A Very Fun Find, Part II: The Gang’s All Here

Sigyn thinks the dinosaurs are such fun that we shouldn’t keep them to ourselves.  She has invited some of our friends and acquaintances over to play.


Yelp is suitably entertained.


“अभिवादन, सानो रबर छेपारो.”

Benno!  It is a quarter your size, it is twice as slow as you, and Parasaurolophus is an herbivorewhat are you afraid of?




“These are great!  I could fit them with electronic controller collars and have my own army of tiny dino-bots…”


“Nein, Remus!  I do not sink ze kleine dinosaurier vill make ze Zoom! Zoom! noises iff you scootz it on ze floor.”


“We observe proper manners in my Sugar Dojo.  Now bow, to show honor to your worthy opponent.”


“Don’t even think about it, Sail Boy!  Back away from Groot or I will blast ya into next Thursday.”


This has been fun, Sigyn, but how do we make them all go home?  I want to sit and play with my dinos in peace.


>|: [


  1. It’s lovely to have friends over. Sometimes it’s even lovelier when they leave, but well done at having what appears to be a successful play date.

    1. Play date? PLAY DATE?! *Toddlers* have play dates. *I* have a beloved who insists on things like sharing and keeping in touch with all the annoying people we know. Totoro and Groot are okay because they don’t say much. Yelp’s no trouble, and I can get along with Thor if I *have* to. (I have centuries of practice in ignoring that brick.) Rocket’s not so bad because he doesn’t take crap from anyone, and I’ve developed a healthy respect for Sigyn’s gal pal Muffy, because she knows about fifty ways to kill a person without leaving a bruise. But Benno and Arnold and Remus are like wearing a wet, scratchy wool sweater while eating raw quince–any sane person would just rather not. And don’t EVEN get me started on Mr. genius-billionare-philanthropist-playboy-jackass-in-a-can…

      1. Is the sweater just wet around the cuffs, so every time you move your hands it’s like the itchy demonic kisses of a thousand tiny jellyfish? Because that’s actually worse in my book.

  2. Wet round the cuffs AND the neck, with an auxiliary wet spot right in the middle of small of the back, just to be clammier and scratchier. Not only that, it also seems to be *shrinking,* and the dyes used were of inferior quality, so I suspect my undergarments will be permanently discolored. I’d banish the sweater into the heart of a sun going nova, but it is one my aunt knit especially for me and I’d be disowned. (Translation: I am not allowed to teleport Sigyn’s friends to Outer Mongolia.)

    1. (Translation: I am not allowed to teleport Sigyn’s friends to Outer Mongolia.)*

      *without Sigyn-ificant consequences. (see what I did there?)

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