A Tyrannosaurus on my Doorstep, Chapter 6

Story by Nicholas Driscoll–that’s me!

Art by Sam Messerly.

Click here to read from the beginning.

“The tyrannosaurus truly and sincerely wants to live in your garage.”

Mayor Pilky was sitting in my house, looking at me with pleading eyes. I crossed my arms and glared at her.

“I won’t force you, Walter,” said the mayor. “But the tyrannosaur has really taken a shine to you. And he is our king now, after all. You really should consider—”

“That old lizard is not a king,” I said.

“Well, he is more like a figurehead,” said Pilky. “Like the royalty in Japan or in England. He doesn’t have complete power over everyone in Final Pumpkin in the same way a king of old would have. But still, he is a king under the modern definition.”

“It’s ridiculous,” I said. “Why would I want a dinosaur living in my garage?”

Mayor Pilky uncrossed her legs and leaned forward placatingly.

“Please understand,” she said. “Any upgrades to the garage that might be installed for our new king’s comfort will be covered by the royal fund. You won’t have to pay a dime.”

“That lizard is a meat-eater!” I said. “He might eat me in my sleep!”

“So far King T-Rex has just been nibbling on the local trees. He doesn’t even have sharp teeth.”

“Yeah, what is up with that anyway?” I said. “Since when do tyrannosaurs not have sharp teeth?”

Pilky tried a smile on me. It didn’t work.

“I think King T-Rex’s winning smile was part of why the judge decided in his favor,” she said. “He really does have nice teeth.”

“I don’t see how his dental pulchritude has anything to do with…”

“We are prepared to pay you,” Pilky said then.

My ears perked up.

“Really?” I said.

“You would be King T-Rex’s official ambassador and caretaker,” Pilky said. “And for that role, you would be compensated generously.”

“Really?” I said again.

“I mean with money,” she said.

“Yes, I understand that,” I said. “But how much money are we talking here?”

Pilky named a number. The number had a lot of zeroes. I might not have been too crazy about the idea of having a giant flesh-eating monster living in my garage, but sometimes a big check makes all the difference when it comes to putting up with the blatantly absurd and potentially dangerous.

“Let me get back to you about that,” I said.

Read the next chapter.