What’s in the box:
A short science fiction adventure.
Reading level:
For ages 13 and up for mild language, and scary sequences.
Cover art by:
Jeff Arce
Trailer:
Content Warning:
This story is a work of fiction. all settings, characters, and events are products of the author’s imagination. The narrative is set during the Covid-19 pandemic between 2020 and 2022. It reflects the emotional and psychological toll of that period. While the characters may express frustrations or opinions related to the pandemic, these views do not necessarily reflect those of the author or any affiliated parties. Additionally, the story contains some mild adult language and a frightening sequence involving an attack from a wild animal, which may be unsettling for some readers. However, no extinct animals were harmed in the making of this project. Parental discretion is advised for readers under thirteen. Enter at your own risk! Enjoy!
SYNOPSIS:
Amy and her son Tommy were sick and tired of being trapped in the house. The pandemic has left the world in shambles. Everything was closed. Everyone was isolated. Endlessly streaming the same half-baked television shows became a Cstultifying leisure. Amy needed to escape. She wanted to go out and breathe fresh air. But it was too dangerous. An alleged outbreak of biological anomalies were running rampant in the woods. Covid was wreaking havoc across the globe. There was nowhere to run to, and hiding was getting old. Then Dirk’s Drive-in movie theater opened back up again. It was time to take a chance. They would soon find out why they should have just stayed safe at home.
This story came to me out of pure unbridled frustration. It was November 23rd, 2021. I just got done watching one of the most exhilarating teasers for a certain upcoming science fiction sequel that blew my mind. I could not wait to get out and see this movie. It had so much potential to be extraordinary. And I—like the characters in my tale—was sick of being imprisoned in my own home. Featured prominently in this certain prologue trailer, we were introduced to a thrilling, action-packed sequence that involved a fantastical rampage at a drive-in movie theater. I had such high expectations. Suddenly, all I wanted in this world was to see this grand idea fully explored and developed. Then, on June 10, 2022, the big movie came out. I was first in line. It was still kind of risky going out in public then. I didn’t know what might happen. I was vaccinated, but there was still a chance that I might get sick. But I couldn’t resist. I had to go. Just for that one scene.
The movie played out. To my despair the film makers decided to cut that entire part completely out. I was so confused, and angry. I felt like I got catfished. Ended up watching a whole two-hour movie about some plague of overgrown locusts with a few legacy cameo’s wasting everyone’s time with bad dad jokes. I even waited for the director’s cut version of said science fiction film to come out on video only to be disappointed yet again. Yes, they restored that original prologue into the film, but it was just the same thing that we already saw in the teaser trailer back in November. A big fat wasted opportunity. As a result, I could not stop thinking about it. I was obsessed. I said to myself, “how can this be better?” Then I wrote a story that felt so good, and such an original take on the scene in question that I just could not keep it locked away on my laptop computer forever. So, this is my story about a trip to the movies that goes horribly wrong.
I am an author of horror and science fiction. When I'm not busy traveling the country drawing crazy cartoons, I spend most of my free time writing crazy stories. For over thirteen years I have been creating dystopian worlds populated by savage monsters, flawed heroes, and homicidal robots. I dwell in the depths of the dark forests that blanket the Appalachian Mountains of Central Pennsylvania. While there, I've got nothing better to do than to throw my characters into dangerous predicaments just to see if I can guide them out...sometimes I can't. But either way, it's still a damned good time.
A constant blogger at my website,
CREATURE FEATURE
By Jeff Arce
“There is still no word from Laz-Tec on how they plan to roundup several genetically altered anomalies that have been found nesting in Marshal’s State Park and Wildlife Preserve.” The stolid reporter with the pretty voice said over the radio. “It has been over two years since a menagerie of experimental specimens had escaped their laboratory in Maine, wreaking havoc across the east coast and abroad. Representatives of the clandestine biotech organization remain tight-lipped on the matter. However, three such specimens have since been identified by a community of local paleontologists as…”
Amy reached over to turn off the radio. “That’s enough of that noise,” she decried, returning both of her hands to the steering wheel.
It was getting dark. The winding road that meandered through Marshal’s State Park was starting to feel sketchy. Both Amy and her son felt it. The forest was closing in around them. The unnerving presence of grave danger was everywhere. But it was the only way to get to Dirk’s. It was the only way to get anywhere other than home. And that was where Amy was determined to get to.
Tommy was anxious, his little head on a swivel. Amy gave him a reassuring smile.
“Hey, it’s gonna be okay,” she offered.
He was about to reply to that when something swooped in across their path from the trees. Amy gasped. The car swerved. The tires squealed.
It was only a bat.
Panting, Amy poured her attention back on the road as she giggled. “Well, you don’t see that every day.”
Tommy wasn’t amused.
“This is stupid,” the boy sulked, crossing his arms, and pouting out the passenger side window.
Amy was about sick of his attitude lately. But she was tired. More tired than she has ever been in her life. She didn’t have the energy to argue with him anymore. So, instead, she tried the path of diplomacy.
“Oh, come on, Tommy,” she cajoled. “It’ll be fun. You know, me and your dad used to go to the drive-in all the time when we were young.”
He tittered. “Yeah, bet it was a real hoot when they brought out the color tv too, huh, Mom?”
Little shit.
She should have known better. You can’t reason with terrorists.
Amy was annoyed, but it was hard to stay mad at him. She knew that Tommy has had a major stick up his ass ever since the lockdown had slipped into its second month without resolve. Well, to be fair, he’s been rather petulant ever since his father passed away last spring. That was a difficult time for them both. The navy didn’t help much with that. They had sent their insipid condolences wrapped in a crisp folded flag. It came with a shiny medal and a stringent, lifeless envoy to say, “Sorry for your loss, Kido, but here’s his pension check.”
As if that wasn’t enough to grapple with alone, then came the outbreak of coronavirus to make matters worse. People were dying. And the ones that lived died inside. The pernicious effects of that godforsaken virus spared no one. Not even the kids. So suddenly, Amy was forced to juggle an all-new spate of plights like an overworked jester at a sad circus. She was a grieving widow answering Zoom calls with her distraught coworkers while trying to play substitute teacher, and emotional councilor to her adolescent son. Not exactly how she pictured she would be enjoying her thirties.
There was no time left for her to convalesce when it was all said and done. The world was on fire all around her. Amy had to be like that viral meme that’s been flooding social media since 2016: sitting contently in the middle of a raging inferno with a cup of tea like, “I’m fine with this.” Losing the love of her life was hard. Teaching was hard. Pretending that all of this insanity was somehow normal was the hardest. Amy wanted to scream; she wanted to lament her inner anguish and break something. But losing her mind on top of everything else wouldn’t fix a damn thing. It would only make it worse.
Amy had barely finished high school herself, with lukewarm grades and a good-for-nothing attitude. She thought she was invincible then. All kids do. Now she felt more vulnerable than a liberal arts graduate that has to face the real world for the first time ever. How the hell did they expect her to teach a growing boy with ADHD energy and zero patience for bullshit? She didn’t know. They didn’t care. And all the wine and toilet paper in the world was out of stock. So, she couldn’t drink away her sorrows, and she couldn’t cry about it either. She just had to deal with it. But isn’t that the way of the world? The rich and powerful get to fuck with nature until something dangerous gets out, and then the rest of us just have to deal with it.
Amy at last got some reprieve when the schools finally opened back up again. Alas, they were limited hours, but that was all she needed to recharge her batteries. She caught a little more sleep before having to battle with her coworkers on Facetime again. Also, the wine was back in stock. Amy could finally get back to her favorite hobby of bawling her inebriated eyes out while binge-watching That 70’s Show for the one-hundred-thousandth time. But she knew that she couldn’t keep drowning all her sadness in booze and nostalgia. That’s how you get yourself a very rude awakening. And the last thing that Amy needed was to be awake any more than what was legally expected of her.
Dirk’s Drive-in rescued them from isolation. There finally seemed to be some semblance of hope waiting for everyone at the end of this long arduous road. The old, neglected movie theater nearly went under before the plague got out. They were going to shut down after forty years in business. The news had saddened Amy. Her family had a long history with that place. The fall of cinemas seemed like an imminent fate for a long-celebrated American tradition. Going to the movies was going extinct. But sometimes, life finds a way.
With everything boarded up to try and stifle the spread of infection, Dirk’s saw an opportunity to capitalize on a bad situation with a good time. Availed by the loopholes inherent in the impetuous covid mandates, the drive-in movie theater had found its chance at redemption. Folks from all over the map piled into their minivans and drove for miles just to experience something better than zombie-scrolling on Netflix. To experience something tangible. Everyone was sick of streaming, and they were sick of being locked up in their homes like lab rats. They needed to get out. Though, admittedly, being all cooped up in a can kind of defeated the purpose of going out, but at least the scenery was different.
Amy had to download a new app on her phone just to order snacks. It was irritating, but an approvement over waiting in line forever to grab a refill of pop. Tommy didn’t see the charm in any of it, though. He thought the whole charade of going to the drive-in was a “dinosauric” tradition.
Amy’s hard-used car speakers were old and crackly. The soundtrack came through as graceful as sandpaper grinding against a chalkboard. It was excruciating. She couldn’t believe they were still doing it this way. She hasn’t navigated an AM radio channel since the last time she visited Dirks. Satellite radio and Spotify superseded that burden a long time ago. She forgot what a pain in the butt it was trying to decipher the cacophony that snarled back at them through her car stereo during a movie. But then again, it was still better than dealing with those god-awful window speakers that Dirk’s used to employ back in the day. The stationary poles that used to hold those archaic speaker boxes were still there, taking up useless space since sometime in the late seventies. Those were a whole hell-of-a-lot worse. Nevertheless, Amy found it mordantly humorous that Dirk’s would go through all that trouble developing an app just for the snack bar, but they couldn’t find a way to update their sound system. The high S’s made them both cringe, anguished by the callous feedback. One pinnacle moment in the film where the iron-suit-man clashed with the big purple creature with the magic glove left the whole frame of the car rattling from the blast. Amy and her son stirred in their seats. They had to close their ears with both hands, wincing from the pain. That was probably why they hadn’t felt the creature’s footfalls sooner.
“I need…, to pee,” Tommy whined, chomping on a mouth full of popcorn.
Rapt by the action unfolding on screen, Amy refused to pull her eyes away as she said, “Can it wait?”
Tommy huffed. “Mom, if it could wait, I wouldn’t be complaining about it now.”
When the boy was right, he was right, Amy knew. She turned off the car and said, “Alright, but let’s make it quick. I don’t wanna miss the hammer guy.”
“He looks like a girl with a beard.”
Amy grinned devilishly at that. “Well then, sweety, Mommy might be gay. Because Mommy likes the hammer guy.”
Tommy groaned.
“Mask,” she said as she walked around to meet him at his side.
“Got it!”
They both secured their masks, wondering every time the impulse became just a little more instinctual if this truly was the new normal. They strolled briskly toward the restroom facility. It ran adjacent from the projection house behind their car. There was no line.
Suddenly, Tommy stopped in his tracks. He was still clutching onto his bucket of popcorn under one arm. A slew of kernels went spilling over the rim as he froze, tumbling around his feet. The ground was still wet from a storm that had passed through only an hour before the movie started. There were small puddles filling holes in the gravel here and there. They could hear propellers from a helicopter beating across the horizon. With wide, alert eyes, Tommy gazed up at his mother.
“What’s wrong,” she asked.
“I think I just felt something.”
“What?”
He turned to face the screen. The trees that bordered the massive canvas were rippling behind it, but there was no breeze. Tommy said, “The ground…I felt it move, like an earthquake or something.”
Amy set her hands on her hips and listened. After a few seconds had passed them in silence—disrupted only by the booming of the distant movie soundtrack—she finally decided, “It was just the movie, Tommy. Now, come on.”
The boy wasn’t sold.
Gripping his bucket of popcorn tight against his chest, he wandered off, away from her side. The light from the projector was streaming behind him. Prismatic colors danced across the back of his head. A fireball shot out from the iron-man’s metal hands on the big screen. Its blazing impact sent the purple one tumbling backward. The reverb from a dozen or so car speakers undulated. That staccato sound of helicopter rotors chopping the sky seemed suddenly closer than before. Ominous.
“Tommy?…,” Amy said. Then she felt it.
She gasped. There was a vibration under her feet. It wasn’t from the movie at all.
“Oh my God, What the hell was that,” she exclaimed through her mask.
Tommy tucked the popcorn under his arm. He removed his mask. It distracted his senses. He wanted to smell the air, to taste it unburdened by the stink of his own breath. His heart was racing. He needed to breathe. He focused on the trees jigging behind the screen. He smelled the butter of fresh popcorn, the musk of damp trees and mud. And there was something else. It was very faint, but it was there, clinging ever-lightly onto the wind like the perfume of death. The distinct pungent odor of rotting flesh. The incessant echo of those mysterious rotors began bouncing from east to west across the lot, confusing his eardrums. The trees behind the screen stilled. It felt like the world was suddenly holding its breath. Tommy waited a moment longer. When nothing happened next, he shrugged his shoulders and turned to look over at his mother.
He said, “I guess maybe it could be…”
Amy wasn’t looking at him anymore. Her big, trembling blue eyes appeared as though they were about to pop out of her skull. She recoiled, creeping back on her heels. Perspiration on her brow. Her elevated breathing was making her mask pop in and out of her mouth. She was murmuring as if she couldn’t find the words to speak. Her face drained of color. Tommy followed her incredulous gaze. His startled fingers lost their hold on the popcorn. The bucket splashed in a small puddle. Yellow kernels plumed over its rim as it fell on its side. Tommy dropped his mask.
A massive silhouette was looming in the shadows behind the light stream coming from the projector house. There was a thud, and another thud. Then there it was, like a nightmare walking out of a dream. The monster’s enormous, ovoid head was covered in coarse scales. It was bobbing up and down like a bird. Its huge nostrils were sucking in audible pumps of air and snorting it out. The otherworldly beast stood six meters high, with a staggering length of twelve meters across. Even under the cover of darkness, Tommy knew exactly what he was looking at. He knew its dimensions, and he knew it weighed somewhere between five to seven tonnes. He knew that because he had learned about them in school. And he knew it was real because he had a television. The great Dino Exodus was all over the news. Tommy remembered scoffing when he first heard about it, thinking it was some kind of elaborate hoax to keep everyone distracted. Laz-Tec were the ones that cultivated the crisis. They had a funny name. He wouldn’t soon forget that Laz meant Lazarus, as in that guy in the bible that died so that Jesus could prove a point. Tommy thought it was silly. There was speculation that put some of those escaped biological monstrosities right in his backyard. He didn’t believe it then. He thought they were keeping everyone out of Marshal’s for some other nefarious scheme. He never would have expected to see a living breathing Tyrannosaurus Rex standing in the lot at Dirk’s Drive-in. Never in sixty-six million years.
The spectacular creature lumbered toward the projector window, unknowingly cutting off Amy and Tommy’s path to the restrooms. It rocked its body like an agitated ostrich, oscillating on its gigantic talons. They were armored with hard scales like a lizard. Its long, hooked claws sank deep into the sodden earth with every huge step. Its tiny little arms hung from its massive torso, twitching like two futile nubs that wanted to help but couldn’t. Every inch of the monster was rippling with striated, bulky muscle that gave the beast palpable life and weight.
The percussion of the mysterious helicopter propellors were suddenly back again, still too distant to decipher. The creature began to open its serrated jaws just over the lighted pathway of the movie stream. Its menacing silhouette eclipsed the screen.
Amy and Tommy were the first ones to realize that this movie had just turned into a horror.
At last, Amy’s words became clear. “Get back,” she screamed. Tommy was too stunned by what he was witnessing to heed her.
“Tommy,” she shouted again.
The boy snapped out of his daze. He turned to look at his mother and then back again at the dinosaur. As patrons began to spill out from their cars behind them, their terror rose like a wave. In a panicked scramble, they darted this way and that, screaming their heads off. The Rex stirred like a startled chicken. It whipped its huge head toward the sounds. It opened its bladed mouth and bellowed a roar that shook the entire lot. It sounded like an elephant’s trumpet fused with the snarl of a mighty lion. It scared the hell out of them all.
Hundreds of people were scurrying westward toward the busy canvas. Others were going fast in any direction opposite of the projector house. Their frightened shrills and shrieks were deafening. Now it was the behemoth’s turn to be anxious. It whipped its head this way and that, agitated by the noisy chaos. Tommy felt the wind from the impetus of it. He saw the creature’s big yellow eye probing, trying to understand what it was looking at. Its black pupil swelled before it shrank again as it at last caught the boy in its line of sight.
Amy saw it too. “Get back to the car,” she pressed, reaching out to grab Tommy’s collar. She shook him out of his fascination.
Together they whirled back in the direction of their parked car. They ran as fast as they could. The Rex’s implacable predatory instincts found only Amy and Tommy on its radar. Seeing no one else, the creature growled and gave chase. It lowered its head and collided with the left sidewall of a vacant compact family van. It bucked its jagged snout deep into the vehicle’s quarter panel, crushing it like a tin can. The impact of the blast hoisted its back end high off the ground to clear the van from the creature’s path. As Amy and Tommy ran for their lives, the crash of twisting metal and the scream of exploding glass splashed behind their feet with a devastating crescendo. The ground rumbled as the dinosaur gave chase. It loped eagerly across the gravel-covered pathway that cut between the queues of parked cars. A percussion of mini earthquakes grew with each determined thump of the monster’s talons. Amy got to the passenger side of her car first. She was so scared; she never saw herself passing her son in their race for refuge. Gasping and sobbing she fumbled for her keys in her trembling hands. Her mask was starting to feel like a suffocating muzzle over her face, but she didn’t have time to worry about it. She needed to get in, and now. When she found the right key, she frantically jammed it. She disengaged the lock. She tore open the door and then turned around to search for her son. Tommy was sprinting and heaving her way. He felt the heat and smelled the fetid stink of the monster’s breath blowing against his calf muscles. Something warm and wet sprayed across his back as a swift puff of wind beat hard on him. In the same instant, he heard the snap of the Rex’s hungry jaws only a few inches shy from his legs. Tommy yelped. Amy reached out with both arms and snatched her boy away from the beast. Then she dove inside the car with her shrieking child cradled firm against her breast.
The Rex bulled its gnarled skull into the side of the sedan, smashing it inward like a wad of clay. The plastic that lined the inside of the passenger side door shattered into a thousand shards and went flying like bullets. The violent collision shoved Amy’s legs into her son’s hide. Tommy’s crown bashed into Amy’s bottom lip sending a cascade of stars swimming over her vision. Suddenly their equilibrium was flipped upside-down as the car went rolling. The gnashing, snarling abomination thrashed relentlessly at the overturned vehicle. It was biting and jabbing its nose at whatever it could get at, jostling Amy and her son. They were trapped. But the car’s steel, and fiberglass hide shielded them from its violent attacks. The steering wheel pinned Amy down against the back of her neck. Her spine crackled, and her tendons tightened, but she only cared for Tommy, coddling him with the shell of her body. Amy was lying in a ball with Tommy when the beast began tackling the car's undercarriage, entangled with her squalling cub. They were now laying on the roof of the car. She covered Tommy’s mouth with her hand to muzzle his screams. Wide eyes blinking incredulously over her grip, Tommy soon got the hint and fell silent.
The dizzying odor of gasoline pervaded the air around them. It hurt their lungs to breathe it in. Amy had to use Tommy’s hair to stifle her coughing. Somewhere off in the distance, the dubious soundtrack from the superhero film was playing out, but nobody was around to enjoy the show. Not anymore. They were like echoes from another dimension where danger only exists in the movies. But that was no longer of this world. Bird-like talons that have no worldly business being that big were prancing around just outside of the car. They were kicking up a mess of small stones and broken glass. Amy and Tommy followed the creature’s monstrous footsteps, peeking through the car’s empty, twisted window frames. Then they saw the Rex’s huge jaw, with its hauntingly sharp, hooked teeth, redolent of a Great White’s, as jagged and savage as a crocodile’s. They were stained by ages of bloodthirsty carnage, lathered in oozing saliva, and begging to bite into something soft and juicy. Its nostrils began flaring, thirstily sucking in the perfume of its prey’s fear.
Tommy reached up to pull his mother’s hand from his mouth. She allowed it.
“A Rex,” he whispered. “Those idiots made a Rex?”
“Go big or go home, I guess.”
One of its ferocious talons picked up and slammed down, crunching the earth outside of their wreckage. Too close for comfort. Amy shuddered, trying her best to suppress the impulse to scream.
Tommy asked, “Is it hungry? What does it want?”
That clipping helicopter sound was back somewhere in the sky again. It was taunting the creature like a vexing mosquito out for blood. The dinosaur snapped its head up. It seemed rather troubled by that sound. It belched a trepidatious roar. Its cry came out wavering and uncertain. It almost sounded like a pitiful, if not desperate whimper.
“Sssshhhhhhh,” Amy hushed him. “I don’t think it wants us… I think it’s afraid.”
Tommy was mystified. “How could that thing be afraid of anything?”
Amy wasn’t sure. But sometimes the fear of not knowing can be the worst fear of all. She thought back on the first week of the pandemic. How scared everyone was. How crazy the world got.
An unnerving stillness settled around them. The only thing left to be heard was the movie’s runaway soundtrack. But then there was that helicopter again, echoing in and out of existence. The Rex didn’t like it. There was severe anxiety in his big terrifying yellow eyes. That antagonizing rotor seemed to be chopping everywhere all at once. The dinosaur’s head followed it, looking for it. The creature was alert and lost at the same time.
Then she found it. The pestilent aircraft was right there in front of her eyes. On the big screen, provoking her. The Rex snarled before lunging straight for it, like a ram preparing to test its horns against a foe. It loped on heavy talons, causing the earth to THUMP! THUMP! THUMP! Amy howled in agony as the metal beneath her back rattled to the beat, feeling like the sting of a thousand hornets on her spine.
The Rex heard the rotors clapping at its left, and then on its right. She was frustrated. Her predatory sharp, keen sense for hearing has failed her. But the Rex could still trust her eyes. The motion that she saw flitting right in front of her could not lie. The helicopter was framed by the screen. It had nowhere left to go. The Rex stiffened her long tail, swinging it high over the cars parked beneath her. She sprang into action. With her head hanging low, it roared once more, warning the pest that she was ready to pounce. She was going straight for the kill.
On the towering screen looming ahead there was a freakishly large humanoid monster with green skin, and a bad haircut. It was also charging at the helicopter with mean intent. It had terrible rage swirling behind its yellow eyes. The helicopter lashed at the beast, hurling a fiery missile at its huge chest. A plume of fire erupted against the green monster’s belly. Ripples surged through its flesh, reducing what once was hard and imposing muscle into soft jelly. The Rex slowed her pace, bewildered. She watched as the blast staggered the strange creature on the screen, knocking him off his big haunches. The Rex didn’t want to find out what the helicopter could do to her, so she wasted no more time dithering. She lunged at the screen, stomping steel fenders, wheel wells, and engine blocks into the earth like they were nothing more than mounds of dirt in her way. The gigantic aircraft was then eclipsed by her swelling silhouette, only serving to disorient the Rex even more, stealing her momentum. But it was too late. The creature had already leapt into the air. Her shins collided with an old rusty swing set planted at the foot of the screen. They tangled her up as the metal coiled around her ankles. She stumbled. Her huge skull crashed into the screen, buckling its frame, and throwing cracks across the chaotic canvas. The angry green monster in the movie was suddenly grappling with the defiant helicopter in the air, disrupting its trajectory. Meanwhile, the movie projection raged over the Rex’s scaly back as she tried to regroup.
Just then, the actual helicopter and true source of the Rex’s anxiety emerged, rising menacingly from behind the screen. The foliage that bordered the screen bowed and swayed under the pressure of its propellers. Its staccato beats tormented the beast. She let out an earth-shattering roar that Amy and Tommy felt all the way back in their overturned car. In a fit of fury, she scrabbled back to her feet. She rammed through the screen, ripping its iron scaffolding out from the ground and sending it toppling back into the wall of trees behind it. A sickening crunch followed the twisted heap down. The projection rolled on against the dinosaur’s thrashing body as it wrestled through the shrubs and debris to break for the clearing on the other side. The helicopter spun in the air to stalk her. LAZ-TEC CO was emblazoned proudly on the side of the craft. Nothing like taking pride in the bad job you’re doing.
A passenger onboard the craft was wearing military-grade gear and night vision nods. He was hanging brazenly from the open hatch, letting the wind rake violently at his clothes. Operating a mounted spotlight attached to its fuselage, aiming the light at their target. The armored soldier was whipping the blinding beam on either side of her face to disorient the Rex’s internal compass. Like a sheep herder, they were trying to get her going only where they wanted her to go. The Rex ran into the forest covered horizon, bellowing roars and agitated snarls all the way there.
When its foot-quakes were dissolved by distance, Amy and Tommy released their breath and relaxed.
Panting, Tommy groused morosely, “I—I told you this was stupid.”
“Well,” Amy answered breathlessly, “not as stupid as bringing back dinosaurs.”
After reflecting on that for a moment, Tommy shrugged his shoulders and said, “That’s true, especially six times. You think they would learn.”
Amy nodded. “Maybe the seventh time they’ll get it.”
Tommy frowned. “We shoulda just had a cookout.”
THE END
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