"Since you mentioned I'm an arborist," the Princess began, "I decided to plant a tree."

  The dragon therapist interrupted, "Actually, I believe I said abhorrent."

  The Princess shrugged. "Whatever, same thing."

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  "No, it's not." The dragon said.

  "Well," the Princess continued, "I cultivated a new tree. I call it Givus Fuckus Ficus. When it blooms, it will bear a rare, golden, delicious fruit, the fuk fruit, a symbol of goodwill." She held up a potted plant with pride.

  The dragon leaned in closely. "Princess, that appears to be a twig stuck in dirt. It'll never bloom."

  The Princess pouted. "Ah, then I'll have no fuks to give." Her boisterous laugh echoed through the cave.

  The dragon therapist sighed.