George and the Dragon Settle a Wager with a Unicorn

When Andy Fanton draws the medieval realm of his comedy creations, the result feels less like a dusty tapestry and more like a Saturday arvo at the footy where anything can happen and the dragons always have something to say. The strip George vs Dragon has long given readers a fresh angle on knightly chaos, and few tales land with quite the same cheek as the time George and his fire-breathing mate squared up against a unicorn in a wager that nobody saw coming.

Published originally in The Dandy and kept alive through the comic strips on Andy Fanton Dot Com, the wager pits cunning against pride in a way that any Aussie with a sense of fair play can appreciate. There is no grudge, no drawn sword, and certainly no jousting until someone falls off their horse — just three creatures trying to prove a point over a few rounds of mischief.

How the Wager Got Started

The wager begins in the kind of way most bets begin down at the local in Parramatta or Gundagai: with one party being a touch too cocky and the other being far too willing to call the bluff. The unicorn trots into frame claiming, with all the smug sparkle of a mythical creature who has never been told no, that no knight, dragon, or combination thereof could outsmart a being quite so radiant.

George, never one to back down from a stoush, points out that radiant and clever are not the same thing. The dragon, breathing small thoughtful puffs of smoke, suggests that the only fair way to settle the matter is through a wager — a proper one, with terms, witnesses, and a guarantee of bragging rights. The unicorn, obviously, accepts without reading the fine print.

The Unicorn's Terms of Engagement

Unicorns, as any reader of medieval humour will tell you, have a peculiar list of demands. The creature insists the wager be measured in three categories: grace, cleverness, and the ability to remain unbothered by anything vaguely silly. These terms are delivered with the kind of lofty confidence that would make a Sydney Harbour Bridge tour guide blush, and they leave George and the dragon exchanging glances that suggest the plan is already forming.

What the unicorn fails to factor in is that George has spent years reading people — and dragons — and the dragon has spent years reading George. Together, they have a working knowledge of human (and equine) vanity that most noble steeds never bother to learn. The terms are noted, signed in a puddle of dragon drool, and the wager is set for the following morning.

Comparing the Stakes on the Table

Before the wager begins in earnest, it helps to lay out what each party actually brings to the contest. The numbers below do not appear in the strip, but they fit the spirit of the deal rather neatly.

Wager Element	George	Dragon	Unicorn
Confidence Level	Steady	Wobbly	Astronomical
Reading the Fine Print	Carefully	Skimmed	Ignored
Trust in Teammates	High	High	None
Ability to Lose Gracefully	Excellent	Mediocre	Catastrophic
Best Weapon	Wit	Flames	A Pose

Reading the table, one can almost hear the unicorn practising its victory speech while George quietly sharpens a pencil and the dragon tries not to set the parchment on fire.

Schemes Each Side Unleashed

George's plan is, as always, disarmingly simple. He suggests that the wager be judged not by a panel of stuffy nobles but by the standards of any decent Aussie with a fair go mentality: who can keep their cool when things get absurd. The dragon backs the plan with a low, rumbling endorsement that shakes a few birds out of a nearby gum tree.

The unicorn, sensing a trap, attempts a counter-scheme involving mirrors, riddles, and at least one attempted distraction involving a wandering bard. None of it works, partly because George refuses to be distracted by anything he has seen before and partly because the dragon keeps sneezing small flames onto the unicorn's tail whenever it tries to leave the clearing.

The Verdict and the Crowning Moment

When the dust — and the smoke — settles, the wager is decided on a technicality so small that even a barrister in Melbourne's High Court would raise an eyebrow. The unicorn cannot, it turns out, prove it remained unbothered, because being unbothered requires being bothered first, and the unicorn was bothered plenty.

George and the dragon share a quiet laugh over a flagon of something strong, while the unicorn trots off into the hills muttering about the rules of engagement and the unfairness of fire-breathing allies. The wager is settled, the pride is dented, and the strip ends with the kind of punchline that Aussie fans have come to expect from Fanton's work.

Where the Next Wager Might Begin

Wagers like this do not appear out of thin air. They grow from the kind of writing that Andy Fanton has been refining for years across print, web, and screen, and they often hint at the larger worlds he builds for his television projects as well. The medieval setting is never just background — it is a stage for manners, bluster, and the small humiliations that make any Aussie larrikin feel right at home.

Fans who love the wager strip often go back through the panels to catch the tiny clues Fanton plants, from the dragon's expressive eyebrows to the unicorn's suspiciously clean hooves. It is the kind of layered joke-telling that rewards a second read with a cold one in hand and a mate beside you.

If this wager has stirred your inner knight, slither on over to Andy Fanton Dot Com and dig through the rest of the archive. The dragons are waiting, the unicorns are plotting, and somewhere in a medieval clearing, George is already working on the next bet. Subscribe, follow the socials, and keep an eye out — the next wager is never far away.