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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
ca
n'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
dare
n'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
.
"
Very
well
,
"
said
the
Iron
Man
.
"
From
now
on
you
are
the
slave
of
the
earth
.
What
can
you
do
?
"
"
Alas
,
"
said
the
space-bat-angel-dragon
,
"
I
am
useless
.
Utterly
useless
.
All
we
do
in
space
is
fly
,
or
make
music
.
"
