Jim the Dinosaur

So Jim the Dinosaur walked out of the restaurant and paused by the bench that was just outside the doorway and thought.

If I’m a dinosaur why do I keep eating at this restaurant. I mean, I don’t even support Capitalism in my heart.

But the longer Jim the Dinosaur tried to figure it all out, the muddier his thoughts became. He decided to just leave things be and take a walk. He started off toward the wooded area just east southeast of the Rib Shack. He traveled at a leisurely pace, poking his snout into the air from time to time to take in the olfactorial delights of Spring. When he was about twenty feet or so from the edge of the woods he came across an old frienemy of his named Bill.

Bill was a stinking beast from the Tau Ceti system who liked to spend his weekends prowling the Hudson River Valley, terrorizing the squirrels and chipmunks with his toxic bowels and their sulfurous emissions. Jim the Dinosaur wished Bill would just stop coming around but his luck wasn’t that good, he supposed. Here was that flatulent prig again, fouling up the atmosphere with each noxious blast from his lower region.

“JimDo! Good to see you buddy.” He let rip a winner.

“Go flick yourself off a cliff buddy. Lea’me alone today, wouldya?”

“Come on, JimDo. What would you do without me around to bug you? You’d go soft and lose all your skills.” Bill farted from “without” to “bug”, then let out a little encore around “your skills”.

“Yeah, I guess you’re right. Thanks, man.” And with that, Jim the Dinosaur clamped his jaws tight around Bill’s scrawny neck and bite hard, severing the smelly beast’s head clean off from its neck. The rest of Bill’s body, far from dead, ran off laughing into the woods at breakneck speed, blasting the surrounding trees with a stupefying cloud of methane based ambrosia. “Catchya later big guy!”

“Whatever, man” Jim the Dinosaur said half out loud and half to himself, the smelly visitor long out of earshot by now anyway.

Jim the Dinosaur weighed munching on Bill’s severed head but ultimately decided against it. He was still full from his meal at the Rib Shack. He kicked it into a drainage ditch near where the woods met the road, then decided to walk along the road a ways. Bill was always such a pain in the neck.

About a mile on, Jim the Dinosaur had a thought. What if I can make a film about my life? Everyone will love it and want to watch it over and over again. So Jim the Dinosaur set immediately upon the plan. He began the script that very moment.

A few moments later, he decided to drop the project. Jim the Dinosaur can’t really write too well. Or spell. Or read. Jim the Dinosaur is more of a consumer than a content creator.

The next morning Jim the Dinosaur rose early and headed over to the Rib Shack for some ribs and eggs. He did it more out of habit than any real desire to eat ribs this morning. Eggs, sure he could go for some eggs, but the ribs were just habit.

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