By me, with art by Sam Messerly.
Click here to read from the beginning.
No, I didn’t have any sort of grand plan. I had no idea what I was doing. But there is a certain point when all the insanity going on in my life kind of crystalized into something similar to bravery, which just proved to me that bravery is a few steps away from insanity itself. Sometimes you are so scared that the only thing left to do is something other people will think is brave.
I certainly didn’t think I was being brave. I didn’t think anything very clearly. I just started walking, and it was really uncomfortable because my pants were still wet from having peed them back in town.
Given this was the second time I had wet my pants dealing with dinosaurs, it really underscored the fact that I need to make sure my bladder is empty whenever working with Warbell.
“Hey!” I yelled. “Hey, you guys! Look, I know you’re not happy. Believe me, I am very much not happy right now, too. But let’s talk this through.”
The triceratops and the parasaurolophus were looking at me now, and they very much did not look happy. The theropod with the limp was still ignoring me and looking over my shoulder at the truck. I waved at him.
“Hey! We have a lot to talk about! So stop shooting green fireballs and start listening!” I shouted.
The parasaurolophus shook its head at me and snorted.
“This matter does not concern you, human being,” it said in a grumbling monotone. “This is a matter to be dealt with by the dinosaurs.”
I stopped in my tracks, but now I was getting mad. I yanked up my pantleg and pointed at my artificial leg.
“This doesn’t concern me, huh?” I yelled. “You know how I got this fake leg? Because of this “matter”—this “matter” that your people are stealing from earth! How do you think you are getting your babies? You’re stealing organic matter and taking it to your stupid immortal dimension when you go back with your young, and all that muscle and tissue in your babies’ bodies comes right out of us! You stole my leg, you freaking monsters!”
All three of the dinosaurs were looking at me now, and they looked surprised. At least I think that was the emotion. They stopped advancing, anyway.
“You don’t know anything about our kingdom,” said the triceratops, though its pronunciation was pretty bad due to its stiff face and beak. “We did not steal your leg.”
“Yeah?” I yelled, shaking my fist. “Are you telling me your people don’t come over on honeymoon trips to this world? And how old are you? You’re immortal, right? How long do you think humans live? Usually less than a hundred years. Yet your actions are stealing our lives, and you just keep on living forever!”
“Who told you these things?” asked the theropod in a surprisingly high and whiny voice.
The three dinosaurs started squabbling and sniping at each other, throwing barbs, grunting, barking as they slipped into dinosaur talk and back into English. After a few rounds of chattering and snorting and squalling, a sizzling stalemate seemed to settle over the situation.
“Don’t listen to him,” said the triceratops finally. “We have to finish this quickly.”
“Alright, if you won’t listen to him,” came a voice from behind me. “Then listen to me.”
I looked. There was Warbell in sharp-tooth mode striding angrily around the truck straight for the three dinosaurs.