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A SPECTACULAR WORK OF FICTION



     You are both wrong.  It went like this...

     Big-T was one bad Tentonsaurus.  He had respect, and he had his big
fat tail.  He could smack any dinosaur who decided to mess with him.
Needless to say, no one messed with him.  But today was different...            
     "What you doin on my turf, bird boy?"  Demanded Big-T.  
     Bobby Raptor sneered.  "This turf belongs to the Raptor Reds now,
so beat it."
     Big-T responded by smacking Bobby with the broad-side of his absurdly
huge tail.  Bobby hit a tree and chirped in outrage.  "You just made a bad
mistake leaf-sucker!" he screamed.  He reared up and made a bunch of funny
barking noises. "Are you congested?" asked Big-T derisively.  
     Just then, a bunch on Deinonychus came running.  Thier feathers
displayed thier pack-colors; they were Raptor Reds, Bobby's possse.       
     "I don't see no pack with your fat tail" said Bobby.  "Get ready to
join the food chain!"  There was a chourus of snicking sounds as the
Raptor Reds flicked open thier switch-feet. 
     Big-T didn't have toe claws, but he didn't need them.  He reared up
to his full height and whipped out a loaded 9mm.  "I GOT MY PACK RIGHT
HERE!" he screamed, crudely holding the gun between his fore-feet.  He
cocked the hammer back with his beak.  He didn't have fingers, so he
pulled the trigger with his tongue. The gun roared.  The recoil sent the
gun flying from Big-T's un-opposible-thumbed grip.  It also ripped out his
tongue- boy, it really hurt.
     But Big-T wasn't through yet; he still had his hand gernade.
"Stah, our ahl puuh ah in!"  "He's bluffing!" screamed Bobby.  "Take him!"
     Big-T wasn't bluffing.  The Raptor Reds tried to flap thier arms
hard enough to fly away, but it was too late. The disarticulation was
extreme.
     With the carnage over, the Little Fuzzies emerged from the
undergrowth.  They had patiently bided thier time for 100 million years,
raiding the occaisional nest, but with the competition taken out, they
were ready to move in and start SERIOUSLY grubbing some egg. Bad Rat, the
leader, climbed to the top of what was left of Big-T's inert corpse. "ARE
YOU READY TO RUMBLE?!" he screamed. His posse squealed in assent.
     But first, they decided to give Big-T and the Raptor Reds a decent
burial.  
        
    There, was that exciting enough?  

LN Jeff
O-