The Dinosaur Keeper

Chapter 3

At a quarter to five Chunk flipped into dawn and the only occupied bedroom, of a house containing eight, tensely vibrated.

But Rex was dead to the world.

Not literally of course, or this would be a very short story indeed, but rather his slumber was as deep as a philosopher at the bottom of the ocean.

As he moaned gently, the dream that filled every night raced through his head, dribbling him into consciousness.

He was surrounded by people, all of whom looked exactly like him. Large Rex’s, Small Rex’s, Mother Rex’s, Father Rex’s, even Baby Rex’s howling at their Rex Parents. Rex himself was a teenager being hugged by, he supposed, both his parents, beaming brightly at him.

Or so he thought.

As he pulled away slightly to look at them, to take in the full admiration of his family, he saw the saddest people in the whole of Chunk stare right back at him, a single teardrop hanging in the corner of his mothers eye.

Then whoosh! The tear turned into a vast ocean and he was suddenly moving at great speed, with rain lashing hard on his face. A second later and the Deep Forest of the plains engulfed him, dressed in his uniform and running, franticly away.

Away from what, he wasn’t sure, but panic consumed his whole being as he hurtled through the woods, branches breaking in his hands, cutting his flesh and leaving a trial of sticky, bloodied leaves.

Turning sharply on his heels, it would happen, as it always did.

As his pace quickened, neck jarring with the constant glancing behind, an ankle would give way, stumbling over a tree trunk. Crashing down he smashed his head on a rock, landing on his back and writhing with agonising pain.

The thing, the predator, behind him would slow down, assured that Rex was helpless and that he could take his time. Stalking the Dinosaur Keeper slowly as the sticks beneath its feet snapped, bringing the noise closer and closer.

The silhouette loomed over Rex and he felt fear, as if being frightened had never really happened to him before.

The new sensation mocked him as it raced through his veins, draining all the blood and replacing it with dread.

The animal would move slowly, salivating at what was to come.

The air pierced with apprehension, the figure clearer but still fuzzy round the edges, baring down on Rex, until his face would come partially into sight.

The dread set like cement, freezing every muscle in his body.

Starting to close his eyes, Rex excepting his fate, a slight glimpse of the hooded creature came into view, springing his eyes open, propped with invisible matchsticks.

The dread broke and a new sensation replaced it. The Dinosaur Keeper fought hard against it but the feeling was unrelenting, pleased with its new victim, not about to leave anytime soon.

Shame.

Shame took over as the whole of the creatures face came into view, and it was like looking into a future mirror.

It was him, Rex, or what he assumed he would be when old and worn.

The whole face contorted with disappointment, a knowing glance of his failure.

Panting hard, sweating from every part of his body, Rex sprang up in bed. It was late, well actually early, but if you had to be up and at work it was late.

Dampened by the Neverland dread, he inhaled sharply, a gut reaction to the fear of the dream.

He was amazed at just how much perspiration had been produced, the bedclothes sodden.

Patting gingerly at the sheets it didn’t take too long to realise that this was actually due to the broken window pane, he hadn’t fixed last night. The rains had lashed over the plains of Planet Chunk, as they did every evening, and also very thoroughly drenched poor Rex.

Still half asleep, but now cursing his own stupidity, Rex rolled over and cast a glance at the clock, a quarter to nine beamed at him in a friendly sort of a way.

So it began, as it did every day in all honesty, the hurtling round the room, whilst cursing his own inability to set the alarm and as before, toes were stubbed, stains were rubbed, dressing decisions took too long and haste replaced speed.

Remembering there was no uniform, or at least not the one he normally wore on a day to day basis, Rex duly stumbled over Pooetesleap who had been quite happily dozing at the bottom of the bed. Whilst apologising profusely to his dog, he charged down the rickety stairs, not caring once when and in what place they groaned back at him, picking up a piece of bread on the way and lodging it firmly in the corner of his mouth.

He spotted the new uniform, freshly wrapped in clear plastic, hanging outside from one of the porch rafters and continuing outside, gulped down the remains of the bread.

Standing on tiptoes, he took down the fresh clothing, admiring it greatly as the door clicked reassuringly behind him. Rex, whilst still giving his fresh navy suit a loving gaze, reached in his trouser pocket for the front door key.

Of course he felt nothing more than rough cotton boxer shorts and a cold skinny leg, the only trousers present still being wrapped in clear plastic.

Cursing his own stupidity, for the second time that day already, he visualised the keys, emblazoned next to a hazy glow of the unset alarm clock.

Looking at his watch, five to nine curtly replied and rushing to the front window, he spotted Pooetesleap descending the stairs, resting at the bottom.

Rex frantically tapped at the window and Pooetesleap replied by enthusiastically wagging his tail.

Rex then motioned at the door.

Pooetesleap wagged his tail even harder and let out a little bark.

“No, no, no” , squealed Rex, “The Door! THE DOOR!”

Seeing his own foolishness, he stopped shouting and clasped a hand to his chin, as Pooetesleap went back upstairs, bored with the new game Rex had invented.

Then he had it.

The window pane, it was still broken!

Whilst this did fill Rex with horror, at his own laxness in security, he also realised he could simply put his hand through the window undo the latch and let himself in.

Steadying himself, he clipped the coat hanger in the corner of his mouth, faced the house with an arm round the other side of one of the pillars and began to haul himself up onto the roof of the porch.

It was a painstaking process, not helped by the weight of the uniform and his bare feet on the dew covered post.

Slow, steady progress was made and eventually, after a few slips and a readjustment of the now painful coat hanger hooked in his cheek, the edge of the guttering was just in reach.

Rex braced himself with his left hand, and reached toward the cold metallic ledge, his fingertips gliding over the rim of the gutter, as fingernails whitened, trying to find a suitable handhold.

Unfortunately, and as always happens when you’re certain you’ll do something, something else quite different occurred.

He slipped.

Now a fall from a roof that was barely eight foot high, wouldn’t be too bad. If you also factored in that Rex had decided to climb the side of the porch that was directly below the water barrel, then all that was going to happen was that Rex would get a little wet. However, if you take into account that he had a clothes hanger in his mouth, things could get a little sticky.

Rex, though fully stunned at the turn of events, had a few moments to reflect on how he presently looked, should any other person have inhabited this particular part of Chunk and happen to be passing.

There he was, his trousers wedged in the guttering of the porch, whilst the upturned end of the hanger caught him in the corner of his mouth.

Rex swung for a few moments, like a human pendulum on a large grandfather clock.

It wasn’t terribly long before his upturned lip informed him that this really was quite painful.

Pooetesleap appeared below the perilously suspended Dinosaur Keeper and decided to jump up and down, snapping at Rex’s heels, much preferring the new game to the previous one.

With this the Dinosaur Keeper decided to free himself from the hanger and grasping the guttering with his left hand, pulled himself up slightly, unhooking the trousers and sending himself crashing to the ground, just missing the water barrel.

Dusting himself off, and fully appreciating the swelling that had started to occur on his previously hooked lip, he noticed the front door was now open.

How Pooetesleap had done it Rex neither knew, or cared, but he raced in, uniform freed, searching frantically for his boots and bag.

Hurriedly, the trousers and jacket were put on, boots hastily fastened and satchel draped diagonally across shoulders.

With just enough time to adjust his hat, the whistle blew as Rex charged towards the plains, determined not to be late, a new working day beginning.

Happy to be on time Rex turned sharply on his heals, headed back to the house and spent the rest of the morning fixing the broken window, noting that it was a wonderful thing being your own boss.

Lunchtime soon appeared, and Rex was really rather pleased with his newly fitted glass. All in all, it had been a good morning.

There had been a point where he had just fixed the new window for the first time and it had broken, falling out as Chunk turned from dusk to daylight, which quite annoyed him.

But the second fitting was much better and satisfaction now spread through a broad smile.

As he was already home Rex thought a nice cooked lunch would be good, and so opened the vast refrigerator that dominated one of the corners of the kitchen, taking out a large tub and reading his own scrawled description. Cream of Dumdum, delicious!

So soup it was.

Cracking the seal and heating the broth in a huge stock pot he kept on the stove at all times because it was just to heavy to move, he stirred the bubbling liquid thoroughly.

Pooetesleap suddenly awoke, and instantly started jumping up and down and barking until Rex gave him a small piece of bread. Happy with his lot, but still confused to why they had yet to go out that day, Pooetesleap ran to his basket shielding the bread with his paw, as if somebody might take it away.

Rex ladled the hot soup into a rough wooden bowl, added a pinch of salt and pepper, and tasted the concoction. Ah! Reassuringly mild! No matter what you did with Dumdum, it always tasted remarkably bland. Rex moved to the chunky wooden dining table at the far end of the kitchen and pulled up one of the heavy, high backed chairs.

He mused about the rest of the day, quite happy to have been away from the Dinosaurs for once, deciding to spend the rest of it fixing the fences. This did mean going into the deepest part of the forest, which was a frightening prospect, as if ever he spotted the other Rogue Creature, it was always there. However he would have to get some Betel Nut Palm anyway, to help with yesterdays Stegosaurus’ sickness, and the deep forest was the only place to get it.

So he would effectively be killing two Pterodons with the one stone.

With this he put on his jacket, adjusted his tie and headed towards the plains, the whistle signalling the end of lunch somewhere in the distance.

Whilst feeling quite brave, he thought it would still be best to start with the fences in full view first, before descending into the deep forest. Pooetesleap charged passed, in order to leap, bound and chase other imaginary dogs, occasionally being chased by one himself.

As Rex reached the boundary in the far corner, something quite peculiar happened.

Although completely unaware, the Dinosaur Keeper had been watched, the creature deciding this was the chance he had been waiting for all day.

Checking that no other animal was in sight, it steadied itself on the great branch that currently gave the magnificent beast such a good view of the small Dinosaur Keeper. With an immense whoosh it took off from this platform and ascended as high as possible, keeping Rex in sight at all times.

As the air thinned and the breeze grew slower, it folded the massive leathery wings in slightly, ensuring Rex was still in view and then a second later, was straight into a steep dive heading directly towards the Dinosaur Keeper. The force of the wind made the great jowls of an immense predator flap incessantly, but within a few seconds it was just forty feet away.

A second later it was thirty, then twenty and at ten Rex turned round horror filling his eyes.

Whilst he let out a great shriek of terror and surprise, the animal merely opened its vast jaws showing every one of the glinting razor sharp teeth, and suddenly it was there on the ground, with the gargantuan mouth covering Rex‘s head.

It stopped a few inches short of consuming the Dinosaur Keeper entirely.

Rex in the meantime, was in the middle of its cavernous mouth staring straight at the back of a Pterodons throat, his feet just visible a few inches from the ground and screams echoing round the fleshy chamber.

It was then that he saw them, two massive tonsils, about the size of grapefruits.

Deciding to be quiet he stared at them intently.

Now Pterodon’s tonsils are big, but not that big, normally about the size of a walnut.

Quick as a flash Rex whipped his head out, looked straight into the animal’s eyes, which were puffy and red, and at the end of the Pterodon’s great mouth, it’s nostrils trickled with a bright yellow liquid.

“Oh, dear!”, Rex said, still slightly shaken at the way the Pterodon had presented itself, “You don’t look well!”

He stroked the great leathery flanks of the animal tenderly, whilst the creature looked thoroughly sorry for itself and opened and shut it’s mouth rapidly, head bobbing sharply from side to side.

“No, no”, continued Rex “Try not to make any sounds”

He looked at the yellow goo that had helpfully ran onto his pristine shirt, and had been formerly a resident of the Pterodons nose, watching as it took over most of his trousers.

“Wait here” he said directly to the Pterodon “I’ll be right back”

With this Rex marched off in the direction of the deep forest.

He knew what was required, the Pterodon had flu, and in an animal that size it wasn’t going to be pleasant.

Musing for a while, Rex ticked off the three plants he needed in his head. Bitter-Cola, would stop the headaches, drowsiness and general aching.

Secondly, the Box Wood trees bark would relieve the fever and hopefully drive out the bug, leaving the Tamarind. It’s tangy pulp was so crammed full of vitamin C, it made an orange blush.

Also, while he was there he could get the Betel Nut Palm and take a look at the fence, making that three Pterodons with the one stone.

Off he set to the other side of the plains, just passed the Velociraptors enclosure at the end of the field, so lost in his thoughts not even noticing that Pooetesleap was no longer with him, having stopped at the edge of the deep forest. Now as we’ve established dogs aren’t the brightest of creatures, but even Pooetesleap knew that going into the thickly wooded area was a bad idea, only done when absolutely necessary.

Rex paused momentarily and shuddered. Directly below him was a small mound of Dumdum carcases, their very bones damp with rotting flesh. He had never seen a Dumdum dead, uncooked that is, anywhere else but on the outskirts of the deep forest, and wondered momentarily why they chose to die here. Which reminded him, he must check the fires before the Dinosaurs ate his share of the Dumdums for the day.

So onward he pressed through undergrowth that got thicker and denser with ever stride, reaching into his satchel to pull out a small machete in order to chop away at the lower, thicker branches that stood in his way. It was hot work, and the wool in his jacket really started to rub, so he folded it neatly and bundled the clothing into his satchel.

The Sun, although at its pinnacle by now, seemed to have forgotten to shine in the centre of the forest.

The darkness drank in everything within the woodland, consuming every shadow and shape, twisting them, projecting algebraic images.

It was all Rex could do to keep his mind on the task in hand, but knew that all he needed to do was go in, collect the various plants and then run back to the plains as fast as his legs would carry him. It wouldn’t be long now, but unfortunately everything he needed grew next to the perimeter fence right at the wrong side of the deep forest. He reeled back in disgust as he stood on another Dumdum carcass, and let out a little squeal, before telling himself to keep it together and focus on the reason for being there.

After thirty minutes had felt like several hours, Rex finally spotted the fence, and he was relieved to see it was intact. There would be no need to repair any of it today and that meant even less time in the deepest part of the forest.

It was also, much to Rex’s relief, an astounding result, as he had completely forgotten to bring any tools with him.

He stepped over a small tree stump and made his way into what was fondly called the Circle of Light, which contained most of the herbs and useful plants.

The area was about four metres in diameter, a perfect circle, and nothing covered it apart from the crunchiest brown leaves. Around the edges grew all the herbs, grasses and berries that Rex needed to spice up his cooking, sooth his need for hot drinks or, as today, calm an ailing Dinosaur.

Unbeknown to Rex, the tree stump he had just strode over slithered away.

I’m afraid this is where our tale starts to turn.

For those of nervous disposition it would probably be best to stop reading now. Besides, there are lots of other lovely books to choose. Ones with cute kittens, soft wool and aging relatives who doze by crackling fires.

No? Are you sure? There’s still plenty of time to shut the pages up and do all those little chores you’ve been putting off.

Well don’t say you haven’t been warned.

As the tree trunk vanished, the rest of the scaly body turned slightly and a pair of beady eyes watched the Dinosaur Keepers every move.

The Betel Nut Palm Rex spotted straight away, it’s long wispy branches stretching as far as they could from the thin, willowy trunk, although it vibrated a bit more violently then a shrub in the wind thought Rex. He tore off a couple of the nuts and stored them in the side pocket of his satchel. Spotting the Tamarind next, just to the left, he scraped the tangy pulp from around the seeds into a small plastic tub, noticing a couple of inch thick claw marks in its trunk, before snapping the lid shut with a click. The Box Wood had been depleted in recent months, due to most of the dinosaurs coming down with a nasty bug. So he took very few wood shavings from it and made some cuttings, planting them gingerly in the moist ground, in the hope that they would grow. Still he couldn’t shake the feeling of being watched, and as he dug at the earth, fear getting the better of him and the turning to look over his shoulder becoming more frequent.

The Bitter-Cola trees greedily lined the whole of the outer fence with dozens of healthy saplings, and a few mature ones further back. Rex cut into the bark and extracted the seeds, putting them in the same pot as the Tamarind.

A branch snapped behind him and he quickly turned round brandishing his machete in front, whipped out in a split second from his satchel.

The branches of a tree trembled rapidly, as if newly disturbed, then slowly relaxed and moved more steadily in the slight breeze.

Standing motionless for a while, Rex scanned every inch of the forest.

After a minute or so he shrugged, double checked he had everything needed and started on the way back. About halfway back he twisted sharply round, convinced something was watching him, and it was then that he saw it.

From the corner of an eye it flooded through and swathed every part of his sight, Rubiaceae!

Right in front of him, the Psychotria Punctata was but a few feet away and Rex was stunned.

Never had he seen so much of it!

Rubiaceae, also known as Wild Coffee, was Rex’s favourite drink and he remembered he was running low.

After snaffling a few dozen of the berries, the dreaming of a pleasant day that he could spend roasting them over an open fire clouded his thoughts for a few seconds.

Then there was a thunderous crack! Just to the left of him and several bushes shook ferociously.

No checking his surroundings this time, oh no! There was no waving of the machete or time taken to think about what to do next, he just ran.

Branches didn’t just snap themselves and hacking away at all sides, chopping manically at plants that stood in his way, he leapt over any tree trunks that had dared to fall, speeding through the dense undergrowth.

Running twice as fast as he had ever done in his life, Rex made steady progress through the forest back the way he had just come, the ground vibrating from something other than his footsteps.

There it was just a few feet away, the sunlight of the plains. He increased his speed now, as fast as he could possibly go, heart thumping in his chest, convinced of dewy, hot breath on the back of his neck, and bounded the last few feet, skidding on a Dumdum carcass as he exited.

Sliding as the ground underneath changed from dead leaves to dead Dumdum, his arms waved hysterically in the air, and Rex ended up face down in what he presumed had been a happy-go-lucky Dumdum, several months ago.

Now it just oozed down the side of his face, rotting flesh penetrating his nostrils, until he sprang back into action and stood up, looking down at the horrible mess.

Trying to keep down what was, if he remembered correctly, a quite pleasant lunch, he peeled off another Dumdum from his thigh, whilst wiping his face with a handkerchief.

He looked at where he had exited the forest and for a second was convinced of a shadow just at the edge, where the trees met the plains. Standing and panting hard, Rex just stared, the seconds merging into minutes. Finally he cast his gaze down, patting his satchel reassuringly, allowing a deep breath to escape, instantly calming himself down.

He was out of the forest and all in all it was a job well done. Plus there would be no need to go back to check the fence, so a smile replaced the disgust and terror that had previously adorned Rex’s face.

The bushes had still seemed to move in a way that suggested it was more than wind, but he was safe now and considered it not a moment longer. Besides the sick Pterodon could be seen, hunched over itself and looking thoroughly miserable.

Rushing over, as fast as his legs could take him, making soothing noises as he approached, between huge sighs and puffs of breath, Rex couldn’t help but feel proud, knowing he could help and his smile lengthened to a whole hearted grin.

The Dinosaurs weren’t particularly fond of him, Rex knew that, but he couldn’t help but like them regardless of this, and in these rare moments where they showed that they needed him, there was a definite bond. Compassion, at least, came from Rex and although they never said it, thanks was unquestionably shown when the ailing animal started to feel better.

He did of course know that come the weekend, the same Pterodon would probably take great pleasure in trying to swoop over him, just to frighten poor Rex to within an inch of his life, but none of this presently mattered.

Snapping open the tub of Bitter-Cola and Tamarind, he emptied the contents into a small pestle and mortar, which was lodged firmly at the bottom of the satchel. Whilst he did this he fed the Pterodon the Box Wood shavings, which kept falling out of the animals narrow beak, scooping them up again only to bend down to repeat the motion until most had been swallowed.

Happy with his paste, Rex upended the contents of the mortar onto a leaf and slowly rolled out the mixture into a small sausage like pellet. Grabbing the top of the Pterodons beak he tossed the pellet into the back of the cavernous throat until it was duly swallowed.

They sat quietly for a while, occasionally making eye contact with one another but predominantly lost in their own thoughts.

That was until the Pterodons eyes sprang to life, jettisoning a few inches wider as the caffeine finally kicked in. Now Pterodons can’t smile, but Rex was sure that just before he sneezed, emptying the contents of his nose all over the Dinosaur Keeper, there was the start of a grin at the side of it’s enormous beak.

With this the dinosaur gave Rex a little nip with it’s gargantuan mouth and kicked off, soaring forty feet into the air.

Rex was left slightly stunned and dressed head to foot in bright yellow goo. The thick yellowish green liquid that had been the previous inhabitant of the Pterodons nose, stuck rigidly to his shirt and trousers. Resembling an unwelcome lemon jelly at a toddlers tea party, thrown across the room in a fit of rage, Rex wiped his face for the second time that afternoon, but continued to look up at the sky still frozen with shock.

Helpfully Rex was snapped out of this by Planet Chunk itself, as it turned briskly from Daylight to Dusk.

Not having the luxury of time to brace himself Rex toppled over. Somersaulting into a nearby tree, he examined the newly acquired bump on his head, stood up and realised it was a quarter to five, with still so much to do. Deciding on a bit of overtime, Rex strode purposely toward the house.

Starting with chopping the wood for the perimeter fires, he counted the Dinosaurs as he went. After much searching Rex found that the Dinosaurs had thoughtfully left him three Dumdums, enough to last him the rest of the week if he was careful.

They just about fitted in his satchel, although one tail and a head poked out a bit from the flap. He hoped this wouldn’t freak out any of the still living Dumdums as he passed them.

Which reminded him.

Scooping up a passing Dumdum, Rex proceeded to position it over the empty flask from his satchel.

It wriggled and squirmed in his hands, knowing what was coming next and being none too pleased about it. Undeterred, Rex put the stomach of the animal flat on the flask and held it down with his right hand, the left one on the top of the Dumdums head. Cooing slightly, he tickled the animals back to make its neck rigid, the Dumdum eventually accepting its fate.

Starting to push the head rapidly straight down towards the shoulders, repeating this every time it sprang back, the first trickling could be heard, before there was a great flood and the flask became full of Dumdum milk.

Happy he had drained it of a good couple of pints, Rex let the Dumdum go. It staggered slightly and looked at Rex woozily, making its way back to the rest of the group.

Rex always felt quite bad about doing this, the Dumdums certainly didn’t seem to relish the experience, but they were the only source of fresh milk on Chunk, so that was that.

Reminded, by a rather large mound, that he had not collected any of the Dinosaur dung that day, he approached the ever growing compost heap.

Throwing the Betel Nut Palm in the general direction of the Stegosaurus, he pondered the poo.

Well at least it was close enough to shovel straight into the compost heap and it shouldn’t take long if he used the bigger spade.

Piling the dung in he thought about what else he meant to look up in The Dinosaur Keeper’s Manual, Four Hundred and Seventy-Sixth edition.

Compost Heaps.

It’s not that this one wasn’t well maintained, it was. It also wasn’t that it particularly caused a nuisance, because it didn’t.

Its just that at present it was about a mile and a half wide and just as long, the silvery metal sides shining in the half light, warm from that day‘s sun.

He understood the principles of compost, he put in the poo, some straw and a bit of paper, if he had any, and it would rot down to be used as fertiliser later on, thus replenishing the forest and other vegetation. It’s just that the Dinosaurs produced so much dung, that by the time it had rotted down sufficiently there was twice as much waiting to be shovelled in.

The scooping of the poop was a hot task which made Rex thankful he had removed his jacket earlier, with one final grunt he scooped the last of it in, along with the shovel and Rex himself.

Cursing his bad luck he threw the shovel back over the side and scrambled over himself.

Looking down at his ‘new’ trousers he saw nothing but dung, straw and Pterodon snot, and the shirt wasn’t much better either. Oh well, thought Rex, drying cleaning again, good job I’m doing the overtime. With this he called it a day and lit the perimeter fires, checking for Dumdums as he went.

Walking back to the house the Dusk sunlight blinded him slightly and he stumbled blinked to the shed to fill out a dry cleaning form and put the soiled clothing in a bag.

At least his jacket had escaped, being folded up in his satchel.

Pooetesleap was already curled up on the porch, having spent most of the day there.

Rex turned round, half naked and decidedly more stinky than yesterday even, twisting the key, locking the shed.

A great shadow passed over the whole of the front of the house and Rex felt a slight chill.

Something was not quite right.

He looked up at the house, it seemed fine, the new window glinting in the Sun’s rays as it had done this morning.

He looked down at the plains, the Diplodocus’ were still munching away, as they always did, so that was the same as it always was. The Velociraptors paddock, from what little he could see at this angle, was as it should be full of Raptors charging around.

The Stegosaurus’ seemed perfectly normal too, stood under the tree waiting to be sheltered from that nights rain.

Finally, the Pterodons were up in the trees nesting for the evening, so no difference there.

Rex began to think he was probably still spooked from his paranoia in the forest earlier, which was just about when he noticed it.

Pooetesleap was bolt upright, staring in the general direction of the Total Fruit Tree. Nothing unusual about this, as things went, it was past dinner time and he would be hungry.

The arrival of Rex was bound to stir him into action, but the thing was he was so chunking rigid, a gaze fixed up in the air as if hypnotized by a giant pocket watch.

He was also shaking, not like a leaf, but like a great jelly being carried by a nervous waiter over a balloon filled floor.

Rex turned toward the tree and finally saw what had Pooetesleap so transfixed.

There it was, dwarfing the Total Fruit Tree, something that was definitely not there this morning.

Moving slightly, shifting its weight from one leg to the other, stood a thirteen metre high, hungry looking, slightly worn, Tyrannosaurus.