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- “Round three,” he shouted.
- And the engineers began to pour in the oil. But what was this? An enormous whoofing sound. A booming, wheezing, sneezing sound. The space-bat-angel-dragon was weeping. If the Iron Man got on to his furnace again, it would mean that he, the monster, would have to take another roasting in the sun – and he could not stand another.
- “Enough, enough, enough!” he roared.
- “No, no,” replied the Iron Man. “I feel like going on. We’ve only had two each.”
- “It’s enough,” cried the dragon. “It’s too much. I can’t stand another. The fires of the sun are too terrible for me. I submit.”
- “Then I’ve won,” shouted the Iron Man. “Because I’m quite ready to roast myself red-hot again. If you daren’t, then I’ve won.”
- “You’ve won, yes, you’ve won, and I am your slave,” cried the space-bat-angel-dragon. “I’ll do anything you like, but not the sun again.”
- And he plunged his chin in the Pacific, to cool it.
- - The Iron Man, Chapter 5
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