It was once again feeding time at the Puhl-DePlugg Reservoir. It seemed like it always was what with the Tyrumposaurus keen on maintaining his svelte, 9-ton figure. This required he devour upwards of 285,000 calories daily. There would be no counting calories today however. The catered dinosaur was a special one. Freshly killed Nuclearballisticus.
The T-Rump had invited several special guests to the oval dwelling to gnaw bones and chew the fat with him. They included the Kimjongadon, the Seoulkoreasaur, the Chungkingosaurus and the smaller Tokyohiroshima. The T-Rump eyed his favorite part of the Nuclearballisticus. He knew the hard shell would explode in his stomach later. He was salivating already and would have to stake his claim.
“Okay, everyone. We need to set some ground rules first.”
He stared down the Kimjongadon, who gleefully clapped his little hands together at the sudden attention.
“Kimjongadon, I’m sorry, but there will be no Nuclearballisticus for you.”
The Kimjongadon stopped in mid-clap.
“You invite me to dinner and you’re not going to feed me? Are you crazy!”
“Here we go again. You wanna see crazy?”
The other dinosaurs ducked their heads into their hands. Even the Kimjongadon blinked. The T-Rump was firm.
“You’ve got to stop playing with your food, Kimjongadon. You make the Seoulkoreasaur here nervous and last week you almost hit the poor Tokyohiroshima.”
“Don’t be too harsh with him,” said the Chungkingosaurus. “He just wants to eat with us at the big table.”
“Yeah,” said the Seoulkoreasaur, “he can’t help it if he’s a Kimjongadon.”
The Seoulkoreasaur reached for a side of Tradebaitor, the ornithopod appetizer of the day, only to see the T-Rump snatch it away.
“Hey! I wasn’t done with that yet.”
“You are now,” said the T-Rump. He turned to the Chungkingosaurus. “You may help yourself to some Tradebaitor … I said SOME,” and to the Kimjongadon, “Oh, I’m sorry, definitely none for you.”
A perplexed Kimjongadon looked to the Chungkingosaurus for support.
“Sorry, he has a point. Behave yourself and we’ll stop for some Petrodactyl on the way home.”
“That’s what I’m talking about,” the T-Rump scolded the Chungkingosaurus. “You shouldn’t encourage the little rogue.”
The Kimjongadon turned four shades of purple.
“I have to live too, you know!” he sputtered, saliva flying.
“Not on Nuclearballisticus, you don’t,” said the T-Rump. “You know what they say, too much of a good thing is bad for you. No, Kimjongadon, it’s become quite clear you only understand one thing.”
“What’s that?”
“Next time, for you … it’s a happy meal.”
David Belisle 