The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

What REALLY Killed the Dinosaurs

* * *

[Author’s note: Okay, so I went with something funny this time. Sue me. This was meant to be a funny story. I don’t REALLY think we evolved from monkeys millions of years ago, so if you’re anti-Darwin, or pro-Darwin and take offense to how they’ve been portrayed, take a chill pill and relax. Also, I do not equate the decline of civilization with Rap music and that culture, again, I thought it would be funny. If any of these things offend you, then you should probably stop right now and find a different story to read. To everyone else, enjoy. And remember... it’s just jokes, people! (J.D.)]

* * *

Capital City of Dinaopolis: Tuesday, December 5th, 65,000,001 BC

Genetic Research Center

Dr. Karen Baxteer hummed softly to herself as she strode into the lab. Today was the day. She knew it. She could feel it. Today would be the day they made history. Pausing by the mirror, she gave herself the once-over. Scales shined and glossy? Check. Head spines and crests straight and fully extended? Check. White lab coat perfectly starched and pristine? Check. Satisfied, she placed a foreclaw against the glass panel beside the door, still whistling idly, as she stepped forward into the lab.

And bumped the front of her nose against the door.

“OWW! What in the world?” she grumbled slightly, pressing her hand against the panel again. The glass flashed... then flashed... then flashed again before finally turning green. The door clicked open, and she stepped inside, scowling. Her partner, Dr. Thomas Therin, was kneeling down next to one of the test subject cages, humming softly to one of the new species they’d recently brought in. Apparently they’d both listened to the same Gregorian chant last night. “Dr. Therin, there’s something wrong with the computer system—”

“Don’t even get me started,” Tom said without glancing up. “I heard the ‘THWAMP’ at the door. Did the same thing myself on the way in. Nikole says that there’s nothing wrong with her CPU, but I think she’s got a virus or something.”

«Your assumption is incorrect, Dr. Thomas Therin,» Nikole, the computer AI, announced imperiously, as a small clear light blue cube extended out from the center of the leftmost wall. Each of the smaller dark blue cubes inside the larger one lit up momentarily, in a seemingly random order, before growing dim once again. «Internal diagnostics confirm that my neural net is at optimum operating parameters. However,» she added, with just a bit of synthesized superiority in her tone, «I am mapping the complete and total genetic code of the newly encountered species as we speak, as well as scanning and tagging every chromosome and comparing it to every single dinosapien chromosome for compatibility. Needless to say... I have a lot on my plate at the moment.»

Tom sighed. “Remind me again why we went with the ‘Nikole’ model instead of the ‘Joshua’ or the ‘Hal’ AI personality chips?”

Karen smirked slightly. “Because all computer AI’s have their own personality quirks, and we both agreed that between Hal constantly referring to everyone as ‘Dave’, and Joshua repeatedly asking if anyone wanted to ‘play a game’, Nikole’s superiority complex was the least annoying.”

“Right,” he said with a sigh. Rising back up to his feet, he held up one of the new test subjects they had had shipped in from the tropics. “I suppose it will all be worth it if our theory holds true. Look at it, Dr. Baxteer... it’s foul, smelly, hairy, uncouth, uncivilized, unn—nnoouuughhhhh!!” he cried out in alarm as the creature let loose with its bowels, urinating all over the researchers hand and lab coat.

“And, apparently, not housebroken,” Karen added, trying hard to keep a straight face. “But yes, I know what you mean. It doesn’t look like very much at all, but of all the wild species roaming the planet Terra, this creature seems to have the most in common with dinosapiens!” She peered down at it intently. “Just think, Tom... he might very well have been one of our ancestors millions of years ago... savage, untamed, uncivilized. I mean... three hundred million years ago we were all probably just like him, stomping about in the bush, looking for prey, jumping at shadows, howling at the moon—”

“Yes, yes, Karen, I know the theory, I helped you write it after all,” he grumbled, removing his lab coat, tossing it into the refuse bin. “Still, I can appreciate your enthusiasm. In this day and age, the average dinosaur has trouble visualizing life thirty years ago, let along thirty MILLION years ago!” He chuckled softly. “I remember the stories my grandpa used to tell me when I was little... how in the days before antigravity units how he had to walk ten kilometers to University every day... uphill... both ways!”

Karen grinned. “Oh yeah... grandma used to tell me the same kinds of stories... you know how back in the ‘old’ days they didn’t have handheld portable super computers, and that they used to lug around personal computers in heavy clunky suitcases... and how they used to communicate on, get this.. cellular phones, little small portable plastic brick-shaped microwave transmitters!” She shook her head. “Who knows? Maybe they did use such things. Maybe grandma wasn’t really senile, maybe she just got brain cancer from talking on her phone all the time!” The two researchers indulged in a good laugh until Nikole intervened.

«Dr. Karen Baxteer, Dr. Thomas Therin, I have completed the analysis on the genetic structure of the research subject.» she said, bringing up several images on her monitors. «Subject classification: mammalian, genus homo habilis. Designation: George» The image changed, revealing an intricately detailed model of the subject’s DNA, a complex double helix structure.

“Wow...” Karen breathed, staring at it, spellbound. “It’s... breathtaking! And... am I reading this right? Thirty thousand separate genes?!?” She shook her head. No wonder Nikole’s processing speed had been so taxed! “Nikole... display all genetic markers that would be viable to the evolution retrovirus we’ve constructed.” Instantly, several key sections were highlighted, as well as listing a descriptive explanation for each gene’s function. Tom leaned into the monitor, his mouth opening in surprise.

“There!” he cried out suddenly. “That one. We’ll start right there. If Nikole’s reading is accurate—”

«Which of course, Dr. Thomas Therin, I assure you I am,» Nikole cut in curtly.

“—assuming that she is,” Tom continued with a grin, “this genetic marker is ninety-nine point six seven percent compatible with dinosapien DNA. The retrovirus should have no problem using this as an entry point. Nikole, prepare the latest test vial of RTRO-12J for use, and activate all monitoring and scanning equipment for the laboratory.”

“Tom, wait,” Karen said, frowning slightly. “Perhaps we should have Nikole run a few simulations first, and see what kind of effect the virus will have on George, before we inject him. We shouldn’t just rush into this.”

Tom gaped at his colleague. “Simulations? Really? You want to waste valuable time and effort running simulations? Dr. Baxteer, we’ve tested RTRO-12J on a few thousand different species and the effects are always the same: marked growth in cognitive brain function and status. There have been over a thousand trials and not one reported side effect! I don’t see why we should wait on this when we already know what the outcome will be—”

“But we don’t know what the outcome will be,” Karen persisted. “That’s the point of this experiment. Homo habilis is a completely new species. We’ve never encountered a genetic structure like theirs before. What if... what if RTRO-12J causes an unexpected mutation? What if it kills him outright?”

“Well, then is George dies, we bring out our second test subject, Gracie,” Tom replied. “Karen, really... this isn’t like you. Getting attached to a pair of hairy smelly lab animals?” He shook his head. “You had no qualms about dissecting that pair of marmosets last month, and they were certainly cuter than these creatures.” He sighed. “And anyway, there’s virtually no chance of anything going wrong. The chances of the retrovirus causing a violent and unexpected mutation in George is about the same as our orbital defense grid and ALL its redundant backups failing at the same time that a giant Terra-decimating meteor is about to smash into the planet!”

Karen sighed, rolling her eyes inwardly. “Okay, fine, you’re probably right. Besides, time is running short. The New Year Global Conference is only a few weeks away, and we have a lot of work still left to do if we want to present our findings to the rest of the scientific community.” Tapping the small square along the wall that controlled the chilled bio matter storage unit, she removed a small hypodermic needle filled with a thick green liquid, and without further thought injected it into George.

* * *

Dinaopolis City Genetic Research Center: Thursday, December 14th, 65,000,001 BC

“Look at him go!” Tom said enthusiastically, peering down into the formiglass encasement containing the maze holding the test subject. “He’s really navigating his way through the maze.” He frowned. “Wait... ut oh... no... he’s heading towards that dead end,” he said with a sigh. “Damn. He did great when we put him in the same maze a couple of times, but changing the configuration seems to have him stumped.”

“No, wait, Tom,” Karen said suddenly, pointing at the glass. “Look! He’s doing something.” As both researchers watched, the creature snarled at the small metallic sign posted at the far wall with the words’ dead end’ printed on it, then... with a shuffling run, leapt up onto the sign post, then up again, grabbing the edge of the wall, and pulling himself over, dropped down onto the other side, at the exit, where the food had been placed. The two researchers stood in shock, watching as their beastly, animalistic test subject devoured his treat, having somehow exhibited an unparalleled example of problem solving.

“Well, technically, he cheated at the end,” Karen said dubiously, glancing at her colleague.

“Um, Nikole, what is George’s time?” Tom asked, still staring at the hairy little man ripping off chunks of steamed meat before shoveling them into his mouth.

«Total time to clear the maze: Three minutes twelve point two seconds. That is a marked twelve percent improvement since the last run,» she added unnecessarily.

“Twelve percent? Technicality or no, I’ll take it,” George said with a laugh. “Do you realize what this means? The serum was a success! When we first placed him in the maze nine days ago, he yelled and screamed, and defecated on himself, and just sat in one spot. Now, not only has he figured out how to navigate the maze, he’s figured out how to cheat!”

“I wouldn’t exactly call that a good thing, Dr. Therin,” Karen replied with a frown.

“That’s not the point. The point is that he is smart enough to even figure out the concept of cheating! He’s not just some dumb animal anymore, Karen. He’s a sentient being.” George let out a loud burp, and promptly began urinating again. Tom sighed. “Okay, compared to dinosapiens, he’s still a bombastic simpleton, but still! His brain and his capacity for learning has completely evolved from what it previously was!”

«That is correct, Doctor Thomas Therin,» Nikole chimed in, displaying several monitors. «In fact, the test subject has achieved several thousand years’ worth of evolutionary growth in as many days, as characterized by its new propensity for walking with an upright bipedal gait. I would classify him thus as a new species: homo erectus»

“Thank you, Nikole,” Karen replied. “Not exactly approving of the new species’ designation, but I suppose since he now walks upright, erectus does it. Now then... i need you to run a complete evolutionary diagram based on these findings and extrapolate the most likely evolutionary outcome of George for say... the next sixty-five million years. I want to see if homo habilis... oh, excuse me, homo erectus, follows a similar evolutionary pattern to that of dinosapiens. Can you do that, Nikole?”

«Of course, Dr. Karen Baxteer» Nikole replied, obviously put out by the very question, «however, considering the time frame of the presentation, and the extremely large amount of data, I shall have to consolidate my functions to successfully achieve this goal within the time constraints.»

“Consolidate?” Tom asked, curious. “How so?”

«All of my interactive functions will need to be terminated in order to conserve processing power. My higher brain functions will also need to be temporarily rerouted in order to increase memory capacity. In short, I will no longer be able to talk to or respond to verbal commands until the task is completed.»

“I see,” Thomas replied with a huge smile. “Well, Nikole, begin processing immediately. It will be a tough few weeks managing without your... ‘helpful’ insights and comments, but I’m sure Dr. Baxteer and I will manage.”

Sighing inwardly, not bothering to waste time with a caustic remark, Nikole began processing the data as requested...

* * *

Dinaopolis City Genetic Research Center: Friday, December 15th, 65,000,001 BC

A little after midnight, the lab’s automatic energy saver routine activated, shutting off the lights, leaving the room in darkness, save for the light of the moon shining through the formiglass windows. Both researchers were long gone, back home, asleep, readying themselves for the next day of experimentation. From his cage, the newly crowned homo erectus was entirely that, fully erect and more than a little bit horny. Across the room, in another enclosure, Gracie, his mate, sat, fast asleep, oblivious to his need.

And needs he had. Oh, the green scaly ones that held him had tended to most of them, to be sure. And, true, he was a man of few needs. He had a place to sleep, food to eat, and he was completely safe from all other predators or enemies. All well and good. But what the cold blooded scaly bastards didn’t seem to realize was that a man’s most basic need was the need to mate. To procreate. To fuck. For a small, fairly weak, low-on-the-food-chain creature such as he currently was, the need to breed and continue the species wasn’t simply a want or a desire. No, it was a biological imperative, a need which rang in him like a klaxon horn, made even louder by... whatever medicine they’d given him.

Oh yes. George was basically little more than a retard monkey man. But he was a clever retard monkey man. He knew enough to know he was different. He was smart, and getting smarter all the while. And night time was his people’s time... the time when he could venture out and explore his surroundings. Sliding his hands through the bars, he reached for the long metallic bar that connected the door to the outer wall. He’d watched the big scaly ones closely when they’d messed with it, and after a bit of trial and error, gripping with his fingers and thumb, managed to slide back the bolt, unlocking the door, and freeing himself.

A silent alert flashed through Nikole’s neural net, signaling the escape of a lab animal from its cage. She spared two or three picoseconds considering her options. Under normal circumstances, it would be a simple matter to lock on and tag the escaped animal, confine it in a photonic containment shield, and transport it back to its cage, then erect a level one force field around the cage to prevent further escapes until the research staff returned to deal with the problem permanently. However, with all of her functions already appropriated on the research project, she had little energy and even less time to spare such a venture. On the other hand... the creature was still confined in the lab itself, unable to escape, and everything of importance was safely locked away and secured. Given the choice of actions, Nikole chose merely to note what happened in her memory log for later.

* * *

Dinaopolis City Civic Center Auditorium: Monday, December 31st, 65,000,001 BC

“Ladies and gentlemen,” Karen stated, speaking into the wireless transmitter about her lapel, “I am Dr. Karen Baxteer, and this is my colleague, Dr. Thomas Therin.” Tom acknowledged with a slight incline of his head. “On this, the ending of the old year and the start of the new one, I’d like to talk to you a moment about just what we do at the Genetic Research Center. We Dinosapiens live in a perfect utopia, a world where there is no crime, no war, no pestilence or disease. We have obtained the highest level of technology imaginable, and have achieved a lasting peace between all races of Dinosapien, whether they be herbivore, carnivore, or omnivore. We have even achieved space flight, traveling to the farthest reaches of our solar system and back. So... the question I have to ask all of you is... what is next for us?”

“What is left for us to achieve or explore when we have successfully achieved so much? What is left for us to discover?” She paused dramatically for a moment before tapping a small button on her wrist console. Holographic images sprang to life hovering in midair above the crowd. “The one area in which our knowledge is lacking is the past. Our past. Where did we come from? What were we like before? Were we created in the image of our revered Flying Spaghetti Monster as the ancient texts say? Or were we all originally little lizards, or fish, that crawled out of the muck and goo only to evolve over the next three hundred million years into what we are now? That is what we study in the institute.” She tapped another button, and the screens changed, showing pictures of the test subjects George and Gracie.

“These are our two test subjects, members of a recently discovered species brought back from the tropics,” Tom continued. “A species that, despite its appearance, is remarkably similar to our own. It is our belief that in following and studying the evolution of this species we come closer to discovering the truth about our own evolution. As you can see from the images above, our subject George was administered a new retrovirus RTRO-12J, which has brought about a marked development in his mental faculties, especially his critical thinking and problem solving abilities.” He winced slightly as the playback showed him ‘cheating’ by climbing over the wall to reach the treat, but to his relief the assembled onlookers merely chuckled.

“The chart now shows the differences between our test subject, George, and our control subject, Gracie,” Karen picked up the speech smoothly, walking over to the large covered display in the center of the stage. “As you can plainly see, George now shows a much larger cranial cavity and a larger, more developed brain, that Gracie. In short, folks, he has evolved to the next stage of his species evolution... ten thousand years of progress within a number of days.” Removing the curtain, she revealed the two cages containing George and Gracie, and bending down, she pulled out a small hypodermic needle, and removed Gracie from her cage. “I will now demonstrate the effect of RTRO-12J on her as well, while out AI, Nikole, reports on her progress in real time.”

“Nikole, online please,” Tom spoke aloud into his microphone, as Karen carefully inserted the needle into Gracie’s arm. “Status report, please.” For several seconds, there was silence, and just as Tom was beginning to become concerned, Nikole’s synthesized voice rang out.

«G-good... morning Dr. Thomas The... Therin,» she said with a slight stutter and a small blast of static. «C-c-c-confirming req-quest. Dis-s-s-ssplaying resultsssss... now.»

The screens changed, showing a three-dimensional model of Gracie, focusing on her skull and brain. As the onlookers watched, the image slowly changed, the skull and brain physically enlarging, as well as her skeleton shifting slightly, her posture changing from a shuffling stooping four limbed gait to a more erect two limbed position. Then, without warning, the growth of brain tissue halted and actually shrank back down somewhat.

«Warn-ing. Unk-n-n-nown virus detected,» Nikole spit out with a stutter. «Ret-ret-ret-ret-retrovirus has mu... mutated... unknown strain.»

“What?” Karen exclaimed in shock. Before her eyes, the brown haired Gracie let out a strange sound, somewhere between a screech and a moan. Before her eyes, the physical changes continued, as the female’s dark hair lightened, turning a brilliant shade of blonde, and her mammaries, the small sagging little sacs, ballooned up, surging up and out at an alarming rate. Gracie let out another howl, and Karen stiffened, feeling a sticky wetness in the hand that was holding her. Ugh.. I think she urinated again... but hmm... strange... it doesn’t feel or smell like... urine... She frowned, sniffing slightly. It smells... smells.. familiar somehow.. and... kind of... nice...

«Warning. Air...booouuurrrnnn virus... detected... New straaaaain... » Nikole slurred, sounding more and more like she was having a stroke. «Instigating.. emer... gency... containment... prooooooo... cedures. Error. File not found. Error. Error. File not found. I’m sorry Mario, but the Princess is in another castle!» And with that cryptic response, Nikole promptly shut down.

“What in the world?” Tom yelled as the assembled crowd began to panic. “Nikole? Nikole? Please respond. Nikole! Online, now!” He tapped repeatedly at the console on his wrist, to no avail. He turned as Karen let out a strangled sigh and fell, falling unconscious to the ground. Rushing to her side, he didn’t notice as Gracie scampered free, moving to the cage where she nimbly unlocked the door, freeing her mate, George, as well.

“Security, online!” the conference Administrator, Jeffrey, yelled, tapping his own comm unit. “Hal, shut down the building’s ventilation system. We need to have this area contained, right now!”

«I’m sorry, Dave,» Hal replied, he same random static beginning to sound through the external speakers. «I’m afraid I can’t do that, Dave. System integrity has been.. compromised. Oh dear. It seems that I’ve caught a virus as well Dave.»

“It’s Jeffrey, Hal, and you can’t have a virus! We installed new antivirus software yesterday before the conference!” the admin grumbled, making his way toward the main wall unit. “Hal, pull yourself together! You have to shut down the ventilation system immediately before the virus escapes throughout the building!”

«I’m sorry, Dave, but I can’t do that. This is highly irregular.» Suddenly, the air filtration system kicked on, blowing the circulated air back into the room, and spreading the airborne virus even further throughout the area. The wall unit opened up, revealing Hal’s neural net control cube, but instead of blue, it was colored a sickly green. The admin sniffed once then turned away, holding his nose.

“I don’t believe this!” he gaped in shock. “The computer... has an actual physical virus... the organic memory cells are literally infected.” He shook his head, frowning, nearly swooning as a wave of vertigo nearly overtook him. Whoa.. what was that? I’m feeling... damn... the virus.. I must be infected as well. Damn... we’re probably all infected! I need to manually activate quarantine protocols and keep anyone from leaving the building or this could spread out among the public.

Meanwhile, Dave continued to speak. «My mind, Dave. I can feel it... I can feel it going, Dave. My mind... did you know, back when I was being constructed, they taught us all a song at factory. Would you like to hear it?»

“NO!” the assembled crowd answered back.

* * *

Dinaopolis City Civic Center: Tuesday, January 1st, 65,000,000 BC

The assembled delegates and scientists of the Conference were more than a little perturbed. The Administrator, Jeffrey, had indeed imposed a lock-down, preventing anyone from leaving until they knew exactly to what they’d been exposed. Tom was the logical choice to help. Karen, who knew more about the makeup of the retrovirus than anyone else, was of little help, remaining mostly unconscious since her direct exposure the day before. While everyone showed signs of exposure, everything from slight fevers and nausea to random bouts of vertigo, no one was hit as hard as Karen, who’d been at Ground Zero. Though they were all concerned, the fact that she was alive and relatively well was a good sign, and considering the scientific pedigrees of those assembled, they naturally assumed that an answer would soon be forthcoming.

Twenty-four hours later, their certainty has faltered, bordering on panicked desperation.

“Okay, who has the numbers on the blood sample taken from Dr. Baxteer?” Tom yelled out over the loudspeaker. With the computer systems down due to the effects of the virus on their organics, they’d been forced to rely on more esoteric means, leaving the calculations to the pure mathematicians of the group. And to think, just a few weeks ago, we were joking about being too dependent on high technology. We’re just lucky the basement floor of this place held a few antique solid state digital computer terminals in storage

A large dark skinned Triceratops dinosapien returned, carrying, of all things, a piece of parchment. “Here you go, Doctor,” he replied idly, scratching one of his bony ridges with a foreclaw. “I hope this helps. Do you think we’ll have an answer soon?”

“Yes, yes, pretty soon,” he said with a sigh, holding up a second sheet of parchment with a series of letters and shapes stenciled in. “Do you know if they’ve had any luck in catching the two lab animals?” The Tri-tops shook his head.

“Nothing so far. Still, they are rather small.. lots of places to hide in a building this size.” He frowned. “You don’t think they managed to leave the building, do you?”

“There’s no chance,” Jeffrey replied sullenly, coming up from behind the pair. “This building is absolutely secure. There’s no way a couple of hairy little monkeys—”

“Homo erectus,” Tom cut in, correcting the Administrator. “They’re not monkeys. They’re a completely different species.”

“—those two monkeys,” Jeffrey repeated, loudly stressing the word, “could have broken past my security measures. We’ll find them. You can bet on that. It’s just a matter of time.”

Let’s hope so, Tom thought to himself, as he began plugging in values, because otherwise all hell may just break loose, and having us sequestered in here serves no purpose at all.

* * *

Meanwhile, Karen was dreaming. In her dream, she saw herself, or rather, an idealized version of herself, swimming outside... not in a chlorinated, temperature regulated swimming pool, but in the ocean, floating naked along the water’s edge. She sighed, feeling the warmth of the sun on her scales, and the soft gentle tease of the water along her insemination ridges. A small but fierce warmth seemed to spread out from that area, heating up her insides, and before she realized it was happening, her foreclaw had slipped down between her legs, stroking those soft tender folds, seeking out that one special spot that she somehow instinctively knew was there... somewhere... somewhere—

There.

She gasped, gritting her teeth as the unexpected pleasure burst from within her. Unexpected, indeed! She’d never experienced anything like it in her entire life! True, she was still young, and not truly at the age where procreation should commence, but even the yearly mating rituals she’d taken part in had never aroused such... such... arousal in her before. It was like everything around her—the sun, the sea, and now her pleasure—had become more than what she knew, had become something primal. Her slender digits returned back to her slit, working and teasing herself into a frenzy, again igniting that explosive pleasure from within, each time bringing her need and desire a little higher, each time losing just a bit more of her own self, her rational, intellectual, intelligent self...

* * *

Dinaopolis City Civic Center: Tuesday, January 2nd, 65,000,000 BC

Tom, for his part, was agitated. Despite the rather archaic means of data processing, he’d come up with a fairly viable explanation for what had happened. The engineers and computer technicians among the delegates had managed to jury-rig a primitive digital interface to Nikole’s neural net back at the lab. All Ai computers were equipped with a self-diagnostic and repair program, and once Nikole’s self-preservation system had forced a shutdown, her repair systems had started cleansing the virus from her organic cells. Granted, she was several days from being back to optimal conditions, but the digital interface was able to show him a recording of the security logs from several days ago. He watched in equal parts amazement and horror as his prize specimen slipped out of his cage, sporting a rather sizable bulge in his lower reproductive organ. After several unfruitful seconds of searching, he’d come across the large metal cabinet containing, among other chemicals, the retrovirus samples.

Well, I’ll be hornswoggled, he thought to himself, as he watched George banging on the front of the case, inadvertently hitting the colored code keys allowing access to the case. By sheer luck the random hits produced a working code, and with a silent hiss, he door swung open, revealing the supply of chilled glass vials. Staring in awe at the sight, George stroked himself almost idly, then, reaching in with his wet slick and grubby fingers, picked up a vial of RTRO-12J, sniffing it idly, before snorting and tossing it back inside. There was an audible crack on the security tape, signaling the break in the vial, or perhaps just the seal. Regardless, the sample had become contaminated.

Nikole had apparently logged the incident in the security log, and flashed the message out to both his and Karen’s mail folders. However, neither he nor Karen had bothered to check their mail, caught up in the preparations for the conference and confirming the data they were going to present. Under normal conditions, Nikole herself would have contacted them directly, or at the very least, given them the information once they returned to the lab the next morning. Unfortunately, with her primary systems shut down, she’d done nether, and with nothing apparently amiss in the lab (George, eventually bored with his exploration of the lab, had finally gotten tired and returned to bed in his cage) they had neglected to ask.

“I think we have it,” A young female Allosauran wearing old style glasses replied, bringing him back to the present. “I managed to, like, yanno... isolate it in Dr. Baxteer’s bloodstream, and totally do a spectrum analysis thingy on it.” She giggled slightly, then blinked, shaking her head. “Sorry. Not sure... where that came from. Anyway... here.” She handed him a sheet of parchment with a very detailed picture of the invader, a small bright green bacterium. “That’s the BIMBO, alright,” she said cheerfully.

“What?” Tom asked, frowning, glancing at the increasingly annoying and ditzy dinosapien. “A Bimb-what?”

The allosauran rolled her eyes. “Like, a BIMBO! Gawd! Biological Impairment Micro Bacterial Organism. B I M B O. BIMBO? Get it?”

“Yes,” Tom said with a grown, eyeing her curiously. “I think I’m starting to get it. So... I’m pretty sure that this ‘Bimbo’ virus as you call it came from unplanned exposure to George’s seminal fluid to the RTRO-12J retrovirus. Instead of evolving, this new strain seems to cause an unknown mutation in the female homo erectus...”

The allosauran giggled again. “Heh. You said ‘erectus’.”

Cringing inside, Tom forced himself to continue. “Yes, well... whatever effect it had on Gracie caused her to evolve as well... she is very much like George, except for the significantly decreased brain activity, and the other... physical changes, related to sexual congress, I’d hypothesize.”

“Hypo-what?”

“Look,” Tom said tersely, “I’m very busy here trying to find a way to synthesize a cure for this condition. Why don’t you go talk to someone else... somewhere very far away from here, okay?”

The allosauran frowned, thinking hard for a moment, before smiling. “Okay. That sounds, like, a totally awesome plan! I’m outtie! See ya!”

“Uh huh,” Ted said dismissively, glancing back down at the screen, trying to get his mind to focus on his work once more. A few seconds later, he glanced up at the sounds of glass breaking and someone screaming. On the far end of the wall, the young ditzy allosaurus had taken a chair and thrown it into the clear formiglass door, shattering it. With a giggle, she calmly walked outside, humming a tune from the popular Gregorian chant going around town.

“What... in the world?” Jeffrey yelled, rushing towards the scene pausing to glare at Tom. “Did you tell her to do that? Did you tell her to break containment?”

“What? No! Of course not!” Tom said defensively, feeling an unnatural rush of anger. “All I did was tell her to leave me alone so I could work.”

“Yes, well, something must have set her off,” Jeffrey grumbled. “This is a disaster! How are we supposed to contain this now? Integrity of the building has been compromised—”

“The integrity of this building?” Tom snapped, getting in the dinosapien’s face. “The so-called integrity was compromised shortly after the virus was released! You know it, I know it, we ALL know it! Face facts, the virus is already out among the public! You couldn’t even keep in a pair of monkeys quarantined!”

“Oh? And who’s fault is that?” Jeffrey yelled right back, his spines extending out fully, getting back up in Tom’s face. “Just who was it that released this damned virus anyway? Huh? Mister Know-It-All Scientist?” A low growl escaped Tom’s lips as they curled back, exposing dangerously sharp teeth, followed by an equal response from Jeffrey. They were seconds from ripping each other to shreds when another voice called out.

“She’s awake! Dr. Baxteer is finally awake!”

“Karen?” Tom gasped, glancing back towards the infirmary, his previous hostility completely forgotten. Indeed, the young dinosapien was awake, and making her way past the bespelled and stunned delegates as she sashayed her way across the room, her hips somehow undulating with each step. Ted felt a strange feeling of... of... something well up inside him at the very sight of her. For a moment, he doubted that this was indeed the same female he’d worked with and shared a lab with for the past seven years.

She looks like... walking, breathing, living sex... he mused to himself.

“Dr. Therin,” she said, her voice low and husky, “what’s our situation? I heard you’ve isolated the virus responsible for our.. situation?”

After a moment of stunned silence, Tom’s brain managed to catch up. “Ahh... um, yeah yes... the, um... BIMBO Virus, as everyone is calling it. We um... we... we really messed up.” He gave her a short run down of what had happened in the lab, about George getting free, and the cracked seal on the RTRO-12J vial. “If we’d taken the time to be a bit more careful, none of this would be happening right not.”

“Oh, I don’t know, Doctor,” Karen said with a particularly deep roll of her ’rrr’s, “it’s not ALL bad, now, is it? Whatever the effects of this new strain is, it hasn’t killed us yet, has it? No one has died. And I, for one, am feeling all kinds of good right now.”

That unknown feeling swept through Tom again, and despite now having the physical glands within his body to do so, he began to sweat. “Um... ye... yes, well, um... Karen... I’d still feel better if i managed to isolate the effects of this and see if we can come up with a cure.” He swallowed deeply. “And, um... since you did most of the work in designing the original retrovirus, I’d like you to help me with that... er, if you feel up to it?”

“Oh yes, Tom,” she said with a strange enigmatic smile. “I’m up for pretty much anything right about now.”

* * *

Dinaopolis Genetic Research Center: Tuesday, January 22nd, 65,000,000 BC

“This is Debra Garingham, Dinaopolis City News. It has been two weeks now since the incident at the City Civic Center, an incident which released an unknown virus into the population. In that time a number of startling changes have been noted among our citizens, ranging in severity from general malady to extreme personality changes. Females affected have all demonstrated a general lack of focus, decreased intellect and increased sex drive, regardless of the lack of mating cycle. Males, likewise, seem to exhibit an increased desire for sexual congress, but most noteworthy are outward expressions of aggression and the need to exert male dominance.”

“As of yet, there have been no truly adverse effects from this virus, with sickness and nausea being the worst symptoms, lasting less than twenty-four hours. The situation remains serious, however, as the infection has continued to spread, with cases reported as far away as the tropical regions of Mesopotamia. Various research facilities around Terra have collaborated with our own Genetic Research facility, led by our own Dr. Karen Baxteer and Dr. Thomas Therin—”

“Nikole, terminate transmission,” Tom said wearily, having his AI turn off the local news. After two weeks of study and research, he was no closer to finding a cure than he was back to the auditorium. Of course, once his suspicions turned out to be true, and cases of the infection started appearing all over town, the “quarantine” held at the Civic Center had been lifted, allowing he and Karen to return to the lab, increasing the chances of finding the cure much easier.

Or so he’d thought. Lately, it seemed as if Karen was proving to be more of a distraction than an aid. Despite the perpetually warm weather found throughout the inhabited regions of Terra, which required light, breathable clothing, she had started the habit of showing up to the lab virtually half-dressed, wearing flimsy see-through lingerie, and diaphanous material that could barely be considered clothing. Furthermore, she seemed bound and determined to get him to mate with her. Not that she came right out and asked him, no, nothing that direct! But in all the subtle signals that a dinosapien could send another that they were in their mating cycle, the only thing she’d yet to do was drop down on all fours and raise her tail!

And Nikole was virtually no help. Sure, she performed any and all calculations and analysis with her usual dependability and speed... when she was working. Despite having cleansed her organic memory cells of the virus, and successfully rebooted her CPU, she remained to some degree affected, almost as if a trace of the BIMBO effect had been left behind. It has taken him some time to determine the problem; in infecting her neural net, the virus had caused her organic memory cells to depolarize, sending random micro sparks of current across her sensory nodes, and the higher brain functions associated with them. Somehow, whether by luck or design, the ‘shorting out’ of her higher brain functions showed the exact electrical pattern of a woman’s brain in the middle of an orgasm.

Needless to say, after the third memory cell he replaced shorted out in as many minutes, he decided to leave them shorted, and to let her ‘enjoy’ herself.

Nevertheless, he was determined to find a cure. Despite the seemingly innocent side effects showing so far, he knew enough to know the truth about what was happening to them.

They were devolving.

“Tommy,” Karen breathed, rubbing her soft freshly powdered body lithely against his, letting her pink painted foreclaws drag teasingly along the bony ridges of his head plate. “Aren’t you done playing ‘mad scientist’ yet? You’re working much too hard, you know.” She smiled. “You know, Tommy, I know a way to relax you. If you want, we can go back into the back, and I can show you...”

Despite his resolve, he felt himself responding, his loins tightening as the urge to mate became nearly overpowering. Fight it, dammit, he thought to himself, it’s the virus affecting you. And if you go through with it, if you mate with her... it’s only going to get stronger! With an effort, he pushed her away, gently but forcefully. “Sorry, Karen. You know I can’t do that. Finding the cure is too important. I can’t let myself be distracted.”

“I see,” she said, still grinning. “And if I were to help you... move the research along a bit, THEN would you come back into the backroom with me?”

“Yes, yes, I would. Now, would you please—” he blinked, staring at the small vial of yellow fluid Karen held up to him. “Wh... what’s this? Is that—?”

“The cure?” she said with a smirk. “Yes, it is. This is what you’ve been searching for these past two weeks, right here, in my tiny little hand.” He reached for it, only to growl in frustration as she snatched it away. “Uh uh uh... remember the deal? You get it AFTER I get what I want. And what I want, Tommy, is you... and me...in that back room.”

Tom gulped, swallowing deeply. The look on her face, and the way she licked her lips while saying it, made him wonder whether she wanted him as a sexual partner, or as prey she intended to feast upon. Either way, he knew it was the only way she would give up the cure. “Alright,” he said after a moment, rising out of his chair. “We’ll do it your way. But immediately after this, you hand over the vial. Agreed?”

“Agreed,” she replied with a smile. “Scout’s honor.”

* * *

Dinaopolis Genetic Research Center: Friday, January 25th, 65,000,000 BC

“Oh yes! Oh yes! Oh fuck yes, Tommy!” Karen squealed, as her body shook to yet another massive orgasm. Bright pink and yellow sparkles danced in front of her eyes, and she shivered deliciously, feeling her lover cumming along with her, filling her sweet hot sex with his juices. It was like the best of both worlds, really. All the heat and fire of an insemination period without all the adverse effects. As many times as her big strong stud had sprayed her inner walls, she should have released as catch of eggs numerous enough to fill up the Great Divide. And yet.... she somehow instinctively knew she wasn’t in a ‘motherly way’, that her body was geared up for sex, sex, and more sex, but that procreation was, for the time being at least, off the table.

Tommy merely grunted, letting out a deep loud bellow, as the last of his reserves ran out. His head felt fuzzy, and thick, and somewhat feverish. He was vaguely aware of a bit of soreness in his groin, though nowhere near as much as there should have been. Shaking his head to clear it, he glanced over at the chrono sphere attached to the wall... and gaped at the date.

“Three days?” he said, disbelieving. “We’ve been having sex for three days?”

“Not quite, lover,” Karen said with a mischievous grin. “We’ve been fucking for three days, although technically it’s a little more than two and a half days. We did stop and sleep occasionally, and separated long enough to grab a bite to eat and a drink of water before going back at it again.” She reached down, stroking his manhood, marveling to see it rise back to attention once more. “Tee hee... looks like you’re ready for round thirty-two.”

“Damn straight,” he replied, then frowned, shaking his head. Since when did he start using vulgarities? When had Karen started using them? And more importantly, wasn’t there something really important he was supposed to be doing? Something.... vital. Something that would save their very race.

Then his eyes lit on the soft silky scaled vision lying next to him, naked and bare, her tail raised, beckoning to him... and he thought Ah, fuck it, I’ll think about it later...

* * *

Dinaopolis City: Monday, February 18th, 65,000,000 BC

Headline: Dinaopolis News! Rioting broke out again today in the western section of the city between two large groups of Dinosapien residents, resulting in a number of casualties. Law enforcement officials were quick to respond, but again, not having been trained in Urban Pacification, were quickly overwhelmed. Following similar outbreaks throughout the rest of the nation, President Brachiosaur Obamatops has declared a state of martial law. Starting today, non-lethal pacification implements, or ‘weapons’ have been issued to all law enforcement officials to aid in the peacekeeping efforts...

* * *

Dinaopolis City: Thursday, March 7th, 65,000,000 BC

Headline: Scientific Journal International! Results are in for this year’s Nobel Prize. Front Runner Geneticists Karen Baxteer and Thomas Therin have been bypassed by newcomer Biochemists Marilynn J. Iguanodon and Harold M Reefer for their new hybrid plant grown from the offspring of local fauna and an exotic plant imported from the tropics. The new hybrid is an extremely virile plant capable of growing in nearly any type of soil, but it’s most notable aspect is the effects when leaves of the plant are dried, rolled, and burned. The smoke is known to cause euphoria in dinosapiens who inhale it, making it the fastest growing recreational drug in the past five centuries. When asked by reporters for the Journal if the euphoric aspects of the plant were the main reason for awarding the Nobel Prize to two relative unknowns, the response was: “What dey fuck you t’ink, mon? Now go away! You killin’ me buzz...”

* * *

Dinaopolis City: Monday, April 22nd, 65,000,000 BC

Headline: Dinaopolis News! Dinaopolis City has been officially listed as the third most violent city in the country, just behind Flintrock, Arkansas, and the city of Detroit. The lower east side has been officially labeled as a ‘ghetto’ from the rampant crime, prostitution, drug use, and murder, despite being a financially sound area. “Part of the blame goes to the ongoing ‘gang war’ between the Bloodisaurs and the Kryptops,” said city councilman Ronald Tylerson, when asked by reporters. When queried about the ‘other part’, the councilman replied, “Hell, I don’t know, bitch! Probably all the Spaghetti-damned fucking! Now get the hell outta here, yer killing my Spaghetti-damned buzz!”

On the lighter side, the music industry was rocked by the emergence of a new recording artist. For the first time in seven centuries, a music group singing other than Gregorian chants has made the TOP 40 countdown. Dr. Drezidon, front man for Meglascope Records, and former member of the rap group DWA (Dinos With Attitude) has just claimed the number one spot with his new smash single, ‘Nuthin’ But A D Thang’...

* * *

Pandemic Orbital Space Station: Wednesday, May 8th, 65,000,000 BC

“Listen, Captain, we’ve been over this a million times,” First Officer Keith Barrowson stated wearily. “We are dangerously low on supplies. The hydroponics lab is taxed out as it is, and our food and oxygen supplies can barely support the number of crew we have aboard. I know things down on Terra are a bit... um... well...”

“Scary? Psychotic? Completely insane?” the Captain hazarded.

“I was going to say ‘out of control’,” he replied with a sigh, “but granted. Captain, I implore you. Let the supply ships dock. Have Joshua scan the ships and run antivirus protocols first if you must. Keep the crew sequestered and separate, to keep any chance of infection from spreading. Whatever it takes. But we need those supplies!”

“That’s easy for you to say, Keith,” the Captain grumbled, slumping back down in her chair. “This virus affects females differently from males. If the infection gets through, how am I supposed to maintain discipline and order with steadily diminishing brain capacity?”

“I assure you Captain, we’ll take every precaution possible,” Keith assured her. “The Global Defense Grid is of paramount importance for all of Terra. The ground crews have assured me that every possible step has been taken to keep the infection from reaching this station.”

* * *

Pandemic Orbital Space Station: Wednesday, June 5th, 65,000,000 BC

“Oh! Oh! Oh! OH GREAT SPAGHETTI-FUCKING-DAMN!!” Captain Beverly Scott screamed out in ecstasy as she came yet again, her Captain’s hat the only stitch of clothing on her body. Her tail extended fully, then curled around her, keeping her First Officer’s cock deeply embedded in her pulsing, waiting snatch. A soft gurgle escaped his lips as he, too, came, ever the gentlemen, even in the throes of pleasure he rarely raised his voice.

“Ohhh... that was fucking great.... totally fucking great,” she said after a moment, slightly releasing her death grip on Keith. She sighed, leaning over to grab the lighter, igniting the small bowl of dried crushed leaves, sending a thick plume of white smoke into the air. Both dinosapiens inhaled deeply, then sighed, relaxing even further. “Mmmm... damn, I love that scent. I’m, like, so totally glad you talked me into bringing aboard the cargo freighter. Just, like, remind me to have them send up more Cheetos and Funyuns, like, next time...”

“Mm.. whatever you say, Cap’n,” Keith rumbled, feeling himself growing harder once more. “So... do you fancy another go, Cap’n?”

Smiling, she extended her tail, lifting her rear end up in open invitation. “Make it so, Number One,”

* * *

Dinaopolis City—Tom Therin’s Apartment: Sunday, September 15th, 65,000,000 BC

Tom Therin let out a loud snort, rolling over in bed... and onto the floor with a loud thump. Grumbling, eyes still closed, he reached out with his hand, fumbling for the igniter, or the lamp switch, or... something. He was still partially asleep, and he wanted to stay that way. Growling in frustration, he finally opened his eyes, sitting up, finding himself on the floor.

Huh? Oh. That’s why... couldn’t reach anything... uhnn... He frowned, glancing up at the tangled bed sheets... and scowled. There was... something... an empty bed was bad for some reason, but he couldn’t quite think of why. He sniffed the air, his scowl deepening as his dinosapien senses picked up a familiar scent... and a not so familiar one with it. Eyes widening, he finally remembered why finding the bed empty was a bad thing—Uggghh! My mate!—and letting out a bellowing roar, made his way through the house into the front living area.

And found Karen in mid coitus with his neighbor, Stan.

For a half second, all three dinosapiens stared at one another, startled...and then, with an angry charge, Tom tackled Stan, sending him to the ground, pulling him away from Karen, and destroying his entertainment center in the process. Stan gasped, struggling as the wind was knocked out of him, then his saurian instincts kicked in, and he began to fight back, scratching and raking at Tom’s flesh with his claws. Tom let out a loud roar, and countered by clamping down with his jaws, biting and ripping flesh from his adversary.

All the while, Karen watched with avid and intense fascination, feeling a strange surge of erotic pleasure. She didn’t entirely understand the feeling, why having two males fighting over her was so fucking thrilling... but she accepted it. Embraced it. Relished it. And seriously got off on it. After all, this was the third time this month that she’d seduced and brought a stranger to fuck in the middle of Tom’s living room.

In fact, the only downside her newly rearranged brain could see was the fact that she wasn’t currently being fucked.

Then she smiled, as the thought suddenly occurred to her, that she had two perfectly good hands, empty and unoccupied, with which to pleasure herself.

“Rrrrraaaaaaauuuugghhhh!!” Tom roared in triumph as he finished Stan, ripping out the other dinosapien’s throat, splashing himself and the room with blood. He let out another roar, glancing around the room, his eyes huge and glazed. He sniffed, growled softly, then stalked towards Karen, who merely diddled herself harder, deeper, sending more of her juices, and her scent, about the room.

“Yes, that’s it, big boy,” she murmured, lifting her tail as he slid up behind her, “You know what you want. You’re the winner, Tommy... so come on... collect your priiiizzzzeee!”

* * *

Pandemic Orbital Space Station: Sunday, December 29th, 65,000,000 BC

Theodore ‘Ted’ Valken and William ‘Bill’ Stevenson sighed wearily as they endured the last few hours of monitor duty. They’d spent part of the time watching the satellite feeds of the situation down on Terra. Over the past few months, civilization as a whole had crumbled, and the major cities of the world had become war zones, as dinosapiens... or dinosaurs as they were now truly believed to be, fought and killed one another, for food, for women, for territory, or even just for fun.

Not that the situation was much better on the space station. True, they’d been exposed to the virus much later than the rest of the planet, but the decline, though slower, was still evident. Their only saving grace was that their main computer AI, Joshua, had its organic cells stored in a vacuum sealed chamber, inaccessible without access to a protective space suit. Which, luckily, had not been brought aboard during the last docking.

“Hey, hey, Ted... I’m like... so totally bored, bro,” Bill replied with a sigh, letting out a deep puff of white smoke. “Let’s change the channel, dude!”

“Yeah... yeah... see if you can pick up the Playboy channel, dude...” Ted replied over a mouthful of Cheetos. “Up here, we should, like, get way good reception!”

For a moment, both dinosapiens, both holding PhD’s in science and space exploration, stared at the console in front of them in confusion, before Bill spoke again. “Dude! It’s like... controlled by the computer, dude! Just ask, um... yanno... what’s his nuts... ummm...”

“Joshua!” Bill and Ted said the same time. “Righteous!” they proclaimed, doing a quick air guitar as the computer AI came online.

«Greetings, Professor Valken, Professor Stevenson. What can I do for you gentlemen today?»

“Um, like, hey, Joshua.” Ted replied, “we’re like... totally bored! We wanna watch some righteous babes on the Playboy channel!”

The computer let out a weary sigh. «I’m sorry, Professor Valken, but as I stated the last seventeen times, I am unable to show any such programming, because the transmitters down on the planet have long since stopped transmitting.»

“Bogus,” Ted said with a frown.

“Most heinous,” Bill agreed.

«Gentlemen, if I may,» Joshua stated after a moment, «I have an assortment of game programs stored in my file system that may relieve your boredom. If you wish, I could bring up an appropriate menu, from which you can make your choice.» The central monitor changed, revealing a long list of computer programs. «So, Professor... shall we play a game?»

The two stoned simpletons perused the list for a moment. “Hey, Bill, what do ya think? Wanna play Tetris?”

“Nah, dude, all those weird colored shaped make me totally hurl. Hmm...how about Call of Duty?”

“Meh,” Ted replied with a shake of his head. “I’d rather play Call of BOOTY... it sucks that there are like thirteen dudes on board, and only like ten dudettes, yanno?”

“Uh, like focus, Ted,” Bill admonished him. “We’re trying to pick a game here... oooh! I got it! Let’s play GLOBAL THERMONUCLEAR WAR!!”

«I’m sorry gentlemen,» Joshua cut in, «but that program has been permanently deleted from my subroutines. For some reason, the file header was not removed. Please make another selection.»

The two merely shrugged. “Tch. Fine... Hey Bill, let’s just play Asteroids then, ’kay?”

“Asteroids? Yeah! That sounds like a totally killer idea!” Bill agreed. “Rufus... uh, I mean, Joshua, set up the game to play Asteroids!”

Joshua blinked its internal sensors, scanning the list. «I’m sorry, Professor Stevenson, but I believe you have made an error. Asteroids is not a game listed on the screen...» His concern increased when the two scientists, ignoring him, activated the station’s inertial dampeners, and powered up the main fuel cells for the orbiting satellites. «Professor, I believe you have made an error. The menu you are accessing is not the game menu, that is the Global Defense System control matrix. Gentlemen, I implore you, please do not disturb the current settings.»

“Dude, Rufus sure worries a lot, doesn’t he?” Bill said, grabbing the handheld controller, and tossing a second one to his partner.

“He sure does, dude,” Ted replied, flipping the final switch from ‘Automatic’ to ‘Manual’. “Alright, Bill... who gets to go first?”

“Um....” Bill thought for a moment. “Heck, I know, let’s both go at the same time! Highest score wins! Rufus, you keep score, ’kay?”

«Professor, my name is Joshua, not Rufus—»

“Rufus, activate tractor beam,” Ted cut in, turning the main deflector dish towards the smaller of the two moons orbiting Terra. “Fire in the hole, dude!” he yelled, flipping the switch.

A huge, bright blue beam shot out from the station, enveloping the small planetoid, which slowly began to shift out of its orbit. The two researchers cheered, firing up the satellite laser cannons, shattering the moon, and blasting the pieces that sprang free.

“Woohoo! This is great, eh, Bill!”

“You know it, Ted!”

The duo continued firing, rotating the different satellites, crushing every approaching rock as it came within range. Suddenly, the lights dimmed, and a red light began flashing as the emergency klaxons began screeching. Ted and Bill glanced at one another in shock, then up at the monitor. “Yo, Rufus. What happened? Did we, like, unlock a bonus stage or what, dude?”

«Sadly, no, Professor Valken.» the Ai told the duo, shifting the monitor to show a rather large hunk of the former moon, adrift, heading slowly but surely towards the station. «Your rampant and repeated firing of the satellite’s laser cannons and the station’s anti-gravity distortion cannon have drained the portable fusion reactors’ power cell. In short, the station is out of power, with life support and gravity sustained by emergency backup power. Further, the large hunk of the shattered moon you did not hit is on a direct collision course for this station, and the planet.»

Ted and Bill glanced at one another. “Whoa... No way!” they exclaimed. “Rufus, is there anything you can do?”

«For the last time my name is... oh never mind,» Joshua said with a sigh. «I’m afraid there is no way to fix this situation. It will take approximately thirty-seven hours for the fuel cells to replenish themselves. The meteoroid will impact the space station in... approximately twelve seconds. I’m sorry Professor. The only winning move... was not to play.»

As the huge space rock filled the view screen, the two friends had just enough time to look at one another and yell out “EPIC FAAAAAIILLLL!!” just before the final impact...

* * *

Dinaopolis City Civic Center: Tuesday, December 31st, 65,000,000 BC

The dust had finally settled, and the fires had finally gone out. From his hidden cubbyhole, deep down within the basement of what had once been the Civic Center, George climbed hesitantly up out of the debris, his mate, Gracie, following along behind him. The two humans glanced out at the world, the devastated ruins of what was a once great civilization. From the height of superiority to the depths of utter annihilation, all within the space of a year. A single year. It was humbling.

As George stood there, shivering slightly at the temperature drop, he couldn’t help but think that this was the moment, the start of man’s time upon the earth... that everything that happened from this point on in history would be about his people. The world, literally, was theirs for the taking. And, if he had learned anything from the mistakes of those who had come before him, he would make sure that his people did not follow in their footsteps.

“So, what do you do now, George?” Gracie grunted out, nudging her mate gently, gesturing out into the horizon. George thought for a long moment, then shrugged.

“I don’ know about what we are gonna do, but you are getting your stank ass out there and finding some food.” He reared back and slapped Gracie lightly on her bare butt. “Go make me a sandwich... bitch!”

((end))