Aw Fuck, Dinosaurs!

Prologue (Chewbot)

Thirty years. Thirty years. Thirty years of sweeping dirt and cleaning toilets. No, make that “thirty years without missing a single day of work”. That’s what is repeating in your head as you sit uncomfortably in a cheap lobby chair in front of a door labeled “Dick Waverley,” and directly beneath that “General Manager”. You read the slip of paper in your hand for the hundredth time: “Waverley Corporation greatly values your continued dedication to Waverley Corporation, the Leader in Private Sector Technologies. On this, your thirtieth year of service, we’re honored to present you with a token of our appreciation! We look forward to working with you for many fruitful years to come.” Below that, a printed signature reads “Dick Waverley” with a time and date to meet the man himself. Your curiosity has been building since you first got the note. Hopefully it’s a fat bonus check. A raise? Maybe a promotion? Don’t get too excited, you tell yourself, don’t get your hopes up. They’ve never really appreciated the “manual labor” sort around here. The door clicks open and a man in a pinstripe business suit glides past without a second look. As the door swings shut you can tell there’s no one else in the room. “Uh…” you murmur, “Er, Mr. Waverley?” The man turns his head and squints but keeps walking. “I was supposed to meet you?” You’re now walking in step with him. “Sorry, a little busy…” he grunts and turns a corner. You follow him down a flight of stairs to a parking garage and jog to catch up. “Hold on, I have a note about an award?” Waverley has popped the trunk on his M6 and is laying down the briefcases from each hand. “Hmm? Let me see that…” skimming the note briefly. “Oh, right. Uhhh… here” he fishes a full-sized swiss army knife out of his trunk and tosses it in your direction. “Congrats.” Before it had fully registered, Dick Waverley had backed his car up into your leg, honking.

You step aside and watch dumbfounded as he pulls away down the spiral parking ramp. At this point his car violently explodes. “AW, FUCK!” you shout, stunned. From the level below you spot a black van streaking up the ramp. You dash back up the stairs into the building! Apparently, all hell is in the process of breaking loose. A man in a shiny, fire-retardant suit with a flamethrower is busy laying Dick’s office to waste. You freeze. He stops, and looks at you through a reflective visor. Then he goes back to torching the office. You race down a side hallway as scientists run screaming around you, tripping over each other and generally demonstrating a lack of basic physical coordination. A group of men in black suits bust through a nearby office door. One starts spraying bullets from an automatic rifle, peppering some shrieking scientists across the room. Think! Think! You’ve cleaned this building a thousand times. Think! One thing pops into your head: basement lab. You remember it’s been reinforced for whatever weird machine they’re building down there. Run! You gallop down the stairwell two steps at a time, alarm lights bathing the walls red and sirens blaring. The fire sprinklers have sprung into action and you slip on the last step, wrenching at the door handle for balance. The lab’s usually locked up tight but the fire alarm tripped the emergency auto-open mechanism! You fling yourself into the room and slam the door behind you. “What the..?” A man in a lab coat cranes his neck over some piece of electronics. “Hey, aren't you a janitor? What’s going on up there? Someone knock over a burner?” “Shut the hell up!” you hiss. He seems to be the only person in here. “Help me barricade the door!” You frantically scan the room for furniture and realize this is the first time you’ve ever been inside the room. Not only is there no furniture, there’s no… anything. Except for an enormous ring of metal covered in flashing diodes. “Oh no, no no oh no…” starts the scientist. “They’re coming here. This is why they’re here.” He looks at the enormous hexagonal ring. “I was just taking some

readings! I shouldn’t be here!” You walk over to the giant machine where the scientist is frantically hitting buttons. “What? What is why they’re here…” the door bursts open behind you and more men in black suits pile in. The scientist, his head on a swivel, screams and bashes a few keys, and then the room goes white. As your sight returns you shout “What did you do?!” “I don’t know,” he screams, “I panicked!” In the middle of the hexagonal ring a shimmering field appears and an image begins to materialize. It looks like some ferns, maybe some trees in the distance? It’s kind of like looking into a three-dimensional painting, and utterly hypnotizing. A dozen or so men in black have now pushed through the door, some are cautiously stepping toward the machine. One holds a finger to his ear; “Yes sir, affirmative. It’s been activated. I don’t know. It looks like…” and just then the confusion in the room multiplies exponentially. An enormous snout pushes through the image on the machine, nostrils flaring, sniffing around the room, producing an undeniable sort of… moisture. With some considerably effort, the head of a full-sized tyrannosaurus wiggles inconceivably into the science lab. Visible shaken, the government spooks start to back up. One whispers “Aw fuck, dinosaurs,” prompting the T-rex lets out an ear-shattering roar like a cross between a lion and a tornado. Then shit gets crazy. The spooks open fire. “NO!” screams the scientist, “DON’T SHOOT THE MACHINE!” The T-rex, understandably, goes ballistic, thrashing around as much as a giant dinosaur with his head stuck in a collar can thrash. One man becomes instantly pulverized against the lab wall, leaving nothing but a red smear! Three more are crushed under its jaw! Smoke and electricity is starting to arc from the metal frame! “Run!” shouts one man, but most have already scattered. The portal is starting to flash impossible colors and even the scientist has decided to make a break for it, with you right behind! Suddenly your sight goes haywire, the landscape and the T-rex’s head start to fuse together and the room itself begins to rotate… diagonally. The dinosaur shrieks. The last thing you see is a couple 12-foot teeth closing over your head. And everything goes black. Turn to page 312.

Page 312 (Chewbot)

The good news is that you’re not dead. The bad news is that you’re still alive. You’re sitting on a patch of red dirt, dark clouds churning overhead. Is that a volcano? Oh hey, there’s the scientist. Aces. He seems strangely calm for a man staring at a velociraptor who curiously paces nearby. “Don’t move,” squeaks the scientist. “Maybe we can still make it out of here.” “WHAT THE FUCK?” you shout. Tact will have to sit this one out. The scientist hisses “I’ll explain later, but here’s the quick version. I think the Tyrannosaurus’ head merged with the recurve field generated by the time machine…” “TIME MACHINE?! you screech,” “…and the space-time portal fused his mouth with his period of origin. And then he ate us.” “So we’re inside the T-rex’s mouth which is also in the past and he can chew holes in the fabric of time?” “Yes.” “Fuck you.” “Listen very carefully,” the man continues, as the raptor shifts dangerously out of the long grass, onto the dry dirt nearby. If we’re lucky, the T-rex is in our time period and when he opens his mouth again it’ll make another portal somewhere around here. When you see it, jump.” “I think something else is going to jump first,” you choke out, as two more raptor heads pop up over the grass. You can’t remember how you knew that raptors hunt in packs. Oh yeah, Jurassic Park, which reminds you that mixing scientists with velociraptors usually ends poorly. The scientist steps slowly backwards towards you, and against all odds the air wobbles and the world in front of you rips opens up like a burlap sack being torn in half. “JUMP!” yells the scientist, and you do, but something doesn’t look quite right on the other side. Maybe it’s the horse, or the guy in full plate armor.

“AH, SHIT!” you shout, as you plummet twenty feet onto rain-slick mud, next to a battered kite shield, and scramble to your feet. A freshly-halved raptor drops like a pile of bricks to your right. Instead of running in terror you make the mistake of looking around. About an hour ago the sight would have put you on the fast bus to crazy town but at this point it’s just “extremely overwhelming”. The T-rex towers above you, growling, chewing on a knight it just picked off a horse. In front of you, about five hundred men in armor are retreating up a muddy hill toward the walls of a massive fortress, in a downpour, horrified. Piles of bodies and dead horses scatter the open field. A few mounted knights keep their distance, unsure of what to do. You chance a glance behind you. An entire army, thousand of armed men, stand stone still, mouths agape. Their red and gold banners flap in the gale. Great, you've fallen into the middle of a siege. Fantastic. For some reason, you’re feeling safest standing under the T-rex. A shout goes up from the fortress walls and you whip back around. “Wow,” says the scientist, appearing next to you. “I was not expecting this. By the way, my name is Isaac Brun…” THUNK. THUNK, THUNK! A shower of arrows spray the ground in front of you, behind you, up the side of the T-rex, and across Isaac who drops to the ground like a wet sack, pierced through the head. “FUUUUUUUUCK!” you scream. The Tyrannosaurus also bellows in rage toward the castle, from whence arrows continue to pelt him. Suddenly there’s a bright shimmer from its mouth and two pterodactyls spring out, swooping into the heavy sky! A third rockets forth, disoriented, and smashes headlong into the fortress walls, mortar and debris flying as men tumble to their death. The T-rex, clearly fed up with the whole situation, promptly begins lumbering away from the castle toward a dense forest not far to the east, shaking the ground as it goes. You suddenly realize you’ve lost your cover. Before you can react, men on horses wearing red and gold have galloped up on you. They encircle you and point their spears menacingly. “Hold, warlock!” bellows the nearest knight in thick english. “Who are you that can summon dragons? Answer quickly!”

Shit. This is bad. You haven’t had a moment to think since your boss’ car exploded after he gave you that stupid… swiss army knife? You dig into your pocket and whip out the army knife, extend the allen wrench like a wand and wave it around menacingly. “Back off! I’ll zap all your shit!” “Zap all your shit?” you ponder. Nevermind, it sort of worked. The nervous knights have temporarily given you a wide berth, and a moment to think. Will you back away slowly, making a break for the hole in the castle walls, presumably finding shelter and food? Turn to 118. Try to bluff your way through conversation? Turn to 43. Reluctantly follow after the T-rex into the forest alone; realizing it’s your only ticket out of here? Turn to 12.

Page 12 (Bobbin Threadbare)

You quickly realize that nothing the knights could possibly say or do would help your situation in any way. On the other hand, keeping track of that T-rex would at least leave you with a chance of getting home, albeit in the company of a very angry and very large carnivore. Thinking quickly, you point off into the sky and scream, “Look out! A solar eclipse!” You’re not sure if the knights understood you, but they must have noticed the panic in your voice, because they all quickly turn to see what has you scared. You take the moment to run for the forest where you last saw the Time Tyrannosaur, your would-be captors unaware of your retreat until you are already halfway to the forest’s cover. While several knights quickly turn their mounts and gallop towards you, fear has given your legs wings, and you reach the safety of the forest before they can catch you. The knights are forced to dismount in order to pursue you, and their heavy armor prevents them from keeping up. Soon enough, you outdistance them and slow down to catch your breath.

That’s when it occurs to you that a forest too dense for horses would definitely not hold something as big as the T-rex. Dreading that you might wind up stranded here, you start trying to retrace your steps, when you suddenly come across the unexpected. “Fuck,” you mutter, “Is this shit getting worse?” Seemingly embedded in two separate trees are a pair of time portals. On your left, you can see a large, open building full of futuristic curves and glass walls. The skyline beyond it is like none you have ever seen, and you could swear you saw a flying car move past the window. In the right portal, you see an empty, black landscape of bare rock and overcast skies. You think you can hear a low rumbling, but that might just be the nearby siege. Will you try the left-hand portal? Turn to 215. The right-hand portal? Turn to 3. Or do you wish to press your luck and keep searching the forest? Turn to 166.

Page 166 (Azzur)

Yeah, it's probably better to not go gallivanting through time just because you can. I mean, you just barely managed to escape those knights back there. You press on past the portals, hopefully getting to some clearer territory in the forest. The ominous rumbling above has gotten louder, however, and it's making concentrating incredibly difficult. "Didn't I just pass that tree?" you wonder aloud. The forest has grown dark and the rumbling intensified to the point that you have to cover your ears as you run. There's a break in the treeline ahead and you dash through to a sparse meadow. The ground here has been recently upturned with a massive claw mark imprinted in the ground. How the hell the Timeasaurus Rex got here is beyond you, but you're not one to look a gift horse in the eye.

You don't get much of an opportunity to follow the claw prints before the sky suddenly opens up with a massive bolt of lightning rupturing the ground before you. You fly head over heels as the world becomes very loud and bright in an instant. You're sure you can feel yourself swearing but you can't hear it through the ringing in your ears. As your vision adjusts, you see a wizened old man standing before you clad in dirty white and gold robes. "Dragon summoner! I have come to challenge your powers!" he shouts as a globe of fire extends from the tip of the crooked wooden staff held at his side. You're not one-hundred percent on your history here, but you're pretty damn sure that wizards and magic have never existed, so what the hell is going on here? "I haven't got all day, sorcerer!" the man shouts, voice cracking with age. You reach into your pocket to feel the cool touch of the swiss army knife. It may just come in handy. Will you accept the wizard's challenge? Turn to page 47. Or perhaps try and talk things out? Turn to page 99. Or maybe you can make a run for it and chase after that dinosaur? Turn to page 108.

Page 47 (Erenthal)

Push a man too far, and you’re responsible for what happens next. Since this morning, you’ve had to put up with government goons, time-travelling dinosaurs and medieval goddamn knights. And now magicians. You fucking hate magicians, ever since your mother once took you to see David Copperfield and he wouldn’t sign an autograph after the show. It would have taken him twenty seconds, but noooooo. A fireball impacts near your head, scorching the leaves of a nearby tree. Right, time to go McGyver on this guy’s ass. “Feel the true power of magic!” the old man shouts, and the staff begins to

charge once more, the tip radiating with barely contained power. Every muscle in your body tenses up, ready to dodge. With a broad smile, he points the staff at you. Then, just as you expect the kiss of fire to reach out towards you, the staff fizzles out with a dejected moaning noise. “What’s this? Battery dry? Cheap piece of crap!” the man cries out, shaking the staff vigorously as to coax it back to life. “Knife, or nail-file?” you ask, grinning, as you flick through the blades on the army knife. “Look, erm, there’s been a terrible misunderstanding here… you wouldn’t hurt me, would you?” the ‘wizard’ pleads with you. Just as you are about to respond, you hear loud voices coming from the woods behind you. It’s the knights, and they’ve tracked you down! You turn back to the old man, only to see his feet disappearing into a shimmering portal that slowly begins to close behind him. Then a glint of metal catches your eye, just below the shrinking portal. On closer look, you find a small square technological device of some sort. At the top “TIMEEX 3.0” is etched into the casing and below that are three buttons. At the lower left corner, what looks like a battery-indicator displays a “1”. You assume that this means that the device has one, and only one, charge left. The voices are closing in. Do you leap into the now rapidly closing portal? Turn to page 5. Press the buttons on the device at random, hoping for the best? Turn to page 160. Or take your chances with the knights? Page 303.

Page 160 (Nick Buntline)

Furious at the faux-wizard's shenanigans, you sweep up his stupid device and begin mashing buttons randomly on it. The display begins to flicker wildly and sparks begin to shoot off the battery, and overall you feel quite satisfied with the destruction of his valuable belongings. The knights surrounding you seem less satisfied with your continued suspicious actions, and are beginning to express their displeasure whenthere is a flash of light, a load roar, and the smell of fresh oranges -when suddenly you find yourself in a technicolor wonderland. The ground is covered in a hazy purple mist, the sky is an ever-changing panoply of colors, and the forest has been replaced by an endless field showing glimpses of a million different times, interspersed with the occasional car, plane, or phone booth flying between them. You gaze in amazement at it all, trying to figure out where to begin, and quickly settle on two things as being particularly and immediately relevant. First, you appear to have brought along the knights, who seem to be evenly divided between trying to get on their horses (having fallen off in transit) and trying to get off their horses (having stayed on in transit and been terrified by the process). Second, you also seem to have somehow brought along the elderly, and now quite angry, "magician". "You damned fool!" he yells, as he runs towards you from among the hysterical knights. "Don't you have any idea what you're doing?!? Opening a portal with no destination - you've trapped us all in the Time Stream! And without a functioning controller at that! Now our only way out is to find a stable portal, and it's not like one's going to just fall from the sk-" He is interrupted by a second load roar, one which you now recognize as the destructive dinosaur you've been following! The T-Rex must have been dragged in here too! The old man seems to come to the same conclusion, and dashes off towards the roar at a surprising speed for his frail body. And from what he said, it seems like you'd better catch up with him and the T-Rex if you're to have any hope of getting out of here! But how to do so? Will you borrow one of the knight's horses? Turn to page 8.

Or will you try to hitch a ride with one of the passing phone booths? Turn to page 63. Or is the risk of the old man gaining a lead too great, and so will you immediately start running after him on foot? Turn to page 72.

Page 63 (Green Intern)

After quickly assessing your options, you realize that theres no way that you'd be able to catch up with the Chronosaur and the Wizard Time Traveler on foot, and that the knight's horses, while unattended, are more likely to kick you in the head in their frantic state. It looks like your only option is to try and hitch a ride on one of the dozens of flying phone booths that are apparently a common fixture of the time stream. Taking quick stock (something that you are quite good at doing, being a janitor) of their trajectories, you begin to run alongside the rows of booths as they rise and fall to some unknowable rhythm. Making a mighty leap into the air, you successfully grab the bottom lip of a rather serviceable-looking red booth, and clamber inside. As you do so, however, you hear a thunk, and then see an arrow sticking inches from your head. It appears that the knights have regained their composure, and have taken it upon themselves to slay you, the apparent cause of this whole situation. You scramble to gain some degree of cover, and in doing so, accidentally flip the booth so that the door is facing upward. At this upsetting of its trajectory, the booth lurches forward at a troubling speed, ramming aside slower police boxes, payphones, and Deloreans, and passing by a multitude of portals, each leading to an unknown time. Giving a triumphant yell with the realization that the knights have been left behind for the moment, and a horrified scream with the realization that you can't really control your new ride, you quickly catch up with the Chronosaur. Unfortunately, it noticed your screams, and has turned to face you roaring defiantly. As you come closer, you notice something very odd about the portal that now makes up the majority of its mouth.

It's full of dinosaurs, and you're looking up at them. The portal is below a cliff. As the Rex roars, the the pressure imbalance draws the curious dinosaurs down, and then ejects them sideways. A Raptor rockets past you, barely missing the phonebooth. Another flies far over your head, and you can hear the screams of the knights as the first Raptor crashes into them. The "Wizard," the only man you know who understands time travel, is screaming for help. You only have a few moments before you crash directly into the roaring jaws of the T-Rex, and there's no telling if that time portal leads back to the prehistoric time, or if the timestream as a whole is now infested with dinosaurs. It might not even be the same portal the next time the Rex opens its jaws to roar. At this point, you realize you must make a decision, if you're going to get out of here alive. If you attempt to Save the Wizard, turn to Page 100. If you try to Duck and Cover, and then Thread the T-Rex, turn to Page 2. If you want to bail out and try to land in a random - possibly safer - portal, go to Page 111.

Page 100 (CannibalK9)

While the wizard may just be one more on the list of things trying to kill you, his gasping cries for help and apparent knowledge of time travel wrench your body in his direction before you can fully process the situation. As a pack of Deinonychus whip past and scatter themselves through the eras, you shift your weight to one side bringing the phone booth around in a wide arc, allowing you to reach out with one hand and haul the scrawny man off his commandeered mount. You pull him close and his whimperings subside. The T-Rex is snapping its jaws furiously, trying to catch the prehysteria as they

appear tantalisingly close to its snout. Though you managed to change your course, the extra weight swings you back round towards the Rex, and in your struggle to avoid the flailing head you only succeed in losing your grip. Dropping to the ground in an uncontrollable dive, the old man's screams cause you to glance around, and you find yourself staring directly into the mouth rushing towards you. Your rescue attempt has caused you to fall directly across the path of the Rex and it has no trouble snatching you from your simple trajectory. You're so close that you can see past the portal and down the throat, the smell of decay and searing meat envelops you as a fiery blast from the wizard immolates a Sinosauropteryx that jumps in front of his shot. Shutting your eyes has little effect as the Rex lurches forward and the teeth close around you with a nauseating crunch. ~~~ You land hard on a smooth surface, skidding several meters as you try to swivel onto your back. Two people topple over you, reacting with furious accusations until they look to see where you came from, at which point they run frantically in the opposite direction. The ground is moving along with you, and as soon as you can stop sliding you pull yourself upright and jump off the disorientating conveyor. A few steps away is the Chronosaur, its mouth wrapped around a tree and blood spray dripping down its neck. It quickly disengages itself and looks around, eyes hovering briefly on you, before it notices a morsel by its feet and lowers its head to feed. You recognise the battered heap it's tearing into as the wizard, the top half of him at least. Where his body is from the waist down you cannot say, but you conclude that he was bitten in half as you dragged him along, leaving the rest back in the time stream. You look away, sickened by the sight and by your own sense of morbid pleasure at the magic-wielders demise. As for the current time period... all you can guess is that the Rex managed to bite into one of the portals, fusing two separate times together. Aside from the moving walkways decking the huge enclosed area, and the bright storefronts layered with an inconceivable quantity of garish technology, there are trees and muddy paths strewn about, with well-dressed citizens and dirty peasants somehow mingling naturally.

Will you keep an eye on the dinosaur in case anyone reacts to it with hostility? Turn to page 171. Will you head into the nearest shop; a gadget warehouse that is somehow conjoined with a thatched cottage? Turn to page 51. Or will you jump back on the nearest conveyor belt and see where it takes you? Turn to page 37.

Page 51 (Rhinoceraptor)

You've decided you've gone on this horrible adventure long enough without any supplies, and hearing the crunches and smacks of the Chronosaur eating what could have been the easy way out of this mess is starting to wear on your sanity, so you make your way to the nearest building, which looks like some sort of combination of a warehouse and a cottage. Upon further observation, you infer from the building's name, "Cybersmithe" (with "Cyber" and "smithe" in completely different lettering) that this is a hybrid of some futuristic electronics emporium and an old-timey blacksmith's shop. Sure enough, as you walk in, you find the walls are lined with strange looking devices. Most of them are shaped like medieval weaponry, but with screens and blinking lights in odd places. In the far corner, a man is working on something with a hammer. "Welcome!" says a cheerful voice from directly ahead, you turn and see a man dressed in a customer service uniform standing behind a desk. "May I help you?" "Yes please." you reply, dumping all your money onto the desk, "I'd like to buy a weapon." "Heard about the dragons popping up, have you? You've come to the right place! These three, in fact, happen to be on sale!" The clerk gestures toward three weapons on the wall behind him: a sword with a

keypad displaying unfamiliar symbols on the flat of the blade, an axe with a head that glows and hums like a fluorescent light, and a mace with what looks like two hinges on its handle. "All of our weapons have auxiliary functions in addition to combat." The man continues "For example, the sword--" He stops as his eyes fall upon the small pile of money for the first time. "What the devil is this supposed to be?" He asks, clearly under the impression that you're playing a joke on him. You wonder what the problem is for a moment before it dawns on you; of course your money won't work! Not only are you in a different time, you're in a dinosaur-induced futurepast supertime. Who knows what kind of mixed up money they use here? Feeling disappointed in your fruitless venture, you apologize, gather up your money, and turn to leave the store. CRASH! BLAM! SMASH! An allosaur and five velociraptors burst into the building. It looks like the Chronosaur has coughed up some more creatures from its own time; probably not just its time either, you realize as a sabretooth tiger and a grotesque thing that could only have come from outer space slink in as well. Glancing behind you, you see the three weapons hanging on the wall. The clerk is nowhere to be seen. Considering the circumstances, it wouldn't be that big of a deal if you took one of them, right? Will you take the sword? Turn to page 632. The axe? Turn to page 91. The mace? Turn to page 39.

Page 632 (Gummy Joe)

Acting in desperation, you grab the sword off of its perch on the wall. As you grasp the hilt, the keypad begins to glow with a strange energy, and you can't help but smile. You turn to face the swarming terrible lizards and friends.

"Alright motherfuckers, you're about to become extinct...uh, again." A quick slash lops off two raptor heads. A lunge pierces the sabretooth tiger even as it leaps towards your jugular. "These are some stains I'm gonna be happy to leave in!" you shout to the presumptive location of the clerk as you're showered with fresh gore and viscera. "This is for you Billy Mays, wherever you are!" But the other animals are less than impressed with your fancy swordsmanship and biting wit, and they start to surround you. You swing a few desperate strokes, but it's clear the dinosaurs/blob have learned their lesson and are keeping their distance, waiting to strike as soon as they see an opening. Suddenly, you remember: this sword has a keypad! Glancing briefly at it, you can see there are three main groups of keys. One group glows blue and are made up of symbols that almost look like directional arrows. The second group glows yellow and are made up of symbols that look like a bunch of sunbursts. The third group glows red and is made up symbols that...that look like Hebrew? Yes, you remember seeing these sorts of symbols at your friend Harmon's Bar Mitzvah! What's Hebrew doing on this space-sword?! A burp from the ooze monster snaps you out of your contemplation. You're all out of other ideas, so it's key mashing time! Will you mash the blue keys? Turn to page 217. The yellow keys? Turn to page 149. The red keys? Turn to page 89.

Page 89 (Chewbot)

If you remember correctly – and things are a little blurry right now – there are two raptors to the left, another one pacing at about five o’clock on your right and a

space thing directly ahead. Despite three ex-carnivores lying in pieces nearby you’re still surrounded and GAH! The raptor on the right snaps like a bear trap, missing your arm by inches as you spin from one foe to the next, brandishing your cybersword. “This thing must do something!” you shout as you frantically mash on the sword’s keypad, not even looking at the keys. A dinky speaker on the keyboard suddenly barks “Yitgaddal veyitqaddash shmeh rabba… Be’alma di vra khir'uteh…” The nearest raptor hisses, agitated by the loud noise. “WORTHLESS PIECE OF…” you shriek! Behind you cracks the splintering of wood and a door flies open – as your head spins you see Old Man Shopkeeper emerge wielding a copper-tubed crossbow/shotgun hybrid and a raptor’s head explodes nearby. “Good choice!” he shouts as the chant continues to blare from your sword, and you take the opportunity to chop a filet out of the startled raptor nearby, which goes down with a groan. The third dinosaur, sensing the tables had turned, makes a break for the door, tripping over the sabertooth corpse and stumbling into the space goo, which absorbs it slowly as you watch flesh and bone bubble and dissolve. The blob, having turned from a deep purple roil to a swirl of pastel paisley thanks you with a British accent and exits through the front door, hanging ajar. The shopkeeper and you stand slack-jawed for a moment, and the swordrecording finally ends. “Well,” he says, eyeing the sword, “That Kvetchtana there, that’s used merchandise now. Comes out to thirteen-hundred kilopex.” “What?” you respond, indignantly, “I would have died! What the hell was it saying, anyway?” “Uh, just the Kaddish…” he says, as if he were talking to a five-yearold. “Brilliant feature,” he continues, “for the Jewish gladiators who don’t have time to recite their own death prayer in the middle of a battle. You can only use it once, though, so now it's used. Thirteen-hundred kilopex.” "Wait a second, Jewish gladiators?" you wonder aloud. "Yeah," he remarks, confused, "What'd you think, Christianity was going to catch on?" He chuckles to himself. "I’m just glad you didn’t dial up the ‘Wrath of God’ function with the yellow keys, probably would’a burned the whole place down."

As if on cue, a rocket-propelled missile flies through the open front door, blowing bits of the shopkeeper onto nearby surfaces. Rocket fuel scattered around in the combustion goes up like a Christmas tr-er, Menorah? As the wooden interior is engulfed in flames you leap for the entrance and stumble outside, patting out the flittering flames down your left sleeve. You catch your breath a moment before the sight in front of you takes it away again. If you’ve met a wizard and he met an unfortunate demise, turn to page 70. Otherwise, turn to page 614.

Page 70 (Chewbot)

You pat down the last licks of flame on your cindered sleeve and look up. The man in front of you is covered in cybernetics, sporting glowing goggles and an extraordinarily complex jetpack. He stares you down as he reloads his armgrafted multi-threaded rocket cannon. Around him lies an unprecedented pile of dinosaur bodies from Anklyosaurs to Ceratosaurus, and… uh oh. The Time-rex lies in a smouldering heap nearby, motionless. “I’m here for you, you know,” the man casually mentions. Your mind races a mile a minute. Who? Why?! All you can manage to stutter is “Then you… shouldn’t have killed the shopkeeper…” “He deserved it,” replies the man, lifting the goggles off his face. “Thinks he can sell people faulty fire staffs.” Then it hits you… the mage… no, wait, the scientist? They're all the same person! “Isaac Brun-uhhh?” you stammer. “What’s the matter,” he spits, “Can’t remember my last name because I died too quick? Did you know you’ve been responsible for my death about oh, I don’t know, twenty-seven times now? Did you know I’ve been chasing you for eighteen years? Finally had to fight my way out of this bastards mouth to find you. Ironic, huh? But that’s about to come to

end, right now, finally.” Eyeing your sword, Isaac keeps his distance as his arm-launcher beeps and whirs, warming up. He levels his rocket arm at your head. Panicking, you fumble with your cybersword, almost dropping it on your foot. Suddenly the metal blade flies forward, having stretched suddenly from about 4 feet long to about 20. When you look up, you find it firmly imbedded in the scientist/mage/cyborg’s chest. You look down at the keypad, where your thumb is holding down the blue “UP” button. Oh, THAT’S what those do, you think. “NOT… AGAIN…” gasps Isaac, slumping forward. You hit the down button and the blade retracts. In his dying breath you hear a POP, as though a firework went off near your head and suddenly the field of exploded dinosaur bodies is full of quite alive dinos, except now they seem to be covered in advanced technology, turrets and metal armor. The Chronosaur roars in confusion, simultaneously firing a salvo of lasers from the harness on his head, and all hell breaks loose in an eruption of dino-on-dino laser destruction. You can hear shrieks behind you as terrified townspeople, who now appear to be half-bear, run up the hill toward what used to be a technocastle but is now a zeppelin made from what looks like snakeskin. You get the feeling you’ve been seriously fucking things up lately. A laser bolt sears the ground and the dino melee is getting out of control nearby! Do you fight your way toward the Timerannosaurus in hopes of escaping this batshit abortion of a time period? Turn to 33. Quickly search Cyber-Isaac’s body for potential clues and loot? Turn to 363. Or book it with the townspeople toward the zeppelin? Turn to 482.

Page 363 (Black Wombat)

Deciding that you need to act quickly, you promptly push the retract button on your sword, and, very quickly, nothing happens. It seems that stabbing the

cyborg-wizard-scientist has shorted out the blade's power supply! The showers of sparks emerging from the robo-man's chest confirm that idea. "Fuck, even in the dinosaur-infested future-past, nothing works right." As the chaos rages around you, you are starting to feel very uncomfortable knowing that, while most of the creatures in this era ((eras?)) are armed with laser-crossbows or therma-swords, you currently have a swiss army knife. Deciding that you might be able to get some kind of weapon from Mr. BeenKilled-twenty-eight-times-now, you move to his body, and look for something useful. Unfortunately, the majority of his equipment, such as his bazooka arm, his jetpack, his force-field generator, and his laser nipples all seem to be tied into his main power generator, which your kosher sword has skewered. Just before you turn away in disgust, you notice that he's wearing a headset that isn't connected, and is still glowing with energy! It's labeled 'Babelasaur' You place it on your head, and your world gets far more confusing. It seems that these dinosaurs aren't just screaming at one another with animalistic fury; They're talking! Talking future dinosaurs! You hear a titaniumplated Triceratops with nuclear-powered horns charge into a group of laserheaded raptors with a cry of "Dinotopia foreveeeer!", while a squad of pterodactyl flying over head drop bombs in a strafing run in front of you, reducing a missile-launcher-bearing ankylosaurus((An artilleryosaurus?)) to kibble and bits with high-pitched shrieks of "Death to Queen Dinopolous!" It is increasingly clear that this isn't a random expression of fury, but a two-sided military encounter. This becomes even more clear as you suddenly feel things rushing about your legs. With a scream like a little girl and a lunge, you bail out of the way as a swarm of several dozen compys, each with a beeping device strapped to their chest, surge forwards, screaming in unison "Sic semper Tyrannosaurus!" They charge across the laser-charred and cratered battlefield, directly towards the Epochasaur, who seems to be leading the pro-Dinotopia forces, although it's hard to tell because its enraged screams always translate as "I WILL DEVOUR YOU ALL.",

You land roughly in a crater besides what used to be some kind of horse-drawn hover-volvo ((which implies flying horses, a thought you decide to entertain later)). Before you have a chance to decide on a course of action, a small Archaeopteryx lands on the wrecked car's hood ornament ((a sea urchin?)) and speaks; "Hey! Human! Your have a Babelasaur on! Good!" You stare at the pigeon-sized dinosaur. "Rebel command wants to talk to you. Hurry, come with me before those compys go off!" It says, and starts fluttering away from the battle, towards a rip in time-space If you want to trust the little dinosaur, you can follow it into another place, another time, by turning to page 112. Alternately, you can ignore him and try to change the tide of the battle by grabbing a weapon from a fallen dino and helping: The royalists. Turn to page 21. Or the revolutionaries. Turn to page 222.

Page 112 (Trick Question)

You follow the small feathery creature into the portal. You emerge into some sort of techno-cathedral, from the look of things. Masses of haphazard wiring slither through the room. The archaeopteryx warns you not to trip. Groups of men dressed in medieval armor and dinosaurs outfitted more technologically move through the area. The cathedral seems to be shaking. "Looks like the bombing is still going on. I'd better get you to our leaders right away." It leads you through a small passage near a corner of the room, which leads down several flights of stairs. It's dark, and all that lights the way are a few LED lights embedded into the walls. When you're about fifty feet down, you estimate, the archaeopteryx leads you

through a doorway into a hallway, leading three directions. "You go that way, it's the big door, you can't miss it. I've gotta go get some grub, I ain't et in days." It flies off down one of the hallways. You head down the hallway it pointed out. The hallway twists and turns, and you pass many doors, although none of them seem particularly big. You realize this must be a huge base. After you walk for a while, suddenly all of the lights go out. You hear a large explosion overhead, and lots of shouting. The lights come back on, and they're blaring red. "Warning, the base has been breached. Warning. Warning." The base vibrates more violently. A velociraptor runs from the same direction whence you came, but you notice it's bleeding rather badly. It slows down, stops, and falls over, blood leaking all over the floor. You're pretty sure it's dead. Clutched in his hand is some sort of lazer handgun. Checking it, you notice the display on the side has a big "1" written on it. You really, really hope that's not the remaining ammo. A patch on his vest says "Chekov". Huh. You look around, and notice an open doorway a few more feet down the hall. Your janitorial instincts tell you it's some sort of broom closet, but you can't be sure from here. Another large vibration shakes one of the ceiling tiles loose. It clangs heavily right next to you, and you jump in fear. However, looking up, you see an open duct where it came down. You could probably climb in there, if you jumped. You could probably follow it outside - it might be a good idea to escape. Of course, it's possible you could still meet with the leadership of the rebellion by following this hallway. Will you enter the duct? Turn to page 727. Continue down the hallway? Turn to page 48. Or duck into the doorway? Turn to page 533.

Page 48 (General Ironicus)

You came for an audience and an audience you shall have. Unfortunately the ceiling has different ideas. One more chunk of tile falls and hits you square in the Babelsaur. A small metallic voice chirps "X-POSITOR Activated". With an exasperated shout of "What the HELL is going on here!" you continue down the hallway, only slightly shaken by the blow. The headset's built-in dinopedia function you accidentally switched on takes this as an instruction and begins filling in a few details. Eighty Million years ago all of Dinodom was united under a monarchy that has lasted to this day, shifting from one dynasty to the next. It supported itself through the use of the metal magics cared for by a secretive priestly order. That all changed roughly ten years ago when a radical scientist declared that the magics were actually technology, and further that it could not have been Sauren in origin. Obviously the monarchy denounced and exiled him, but others followed. Eventually they coalesced into a federation of anti-government rebels more threatened by internal division than hostile action. That changed three years ago when a radical faction started firing on monarchial outposts. Hostilities swiftly escalated into the chaos you have found yourself in. "Christ that was a long hallway" you think as the X-POSITOR concludes. You have entered a large chamber illuminated by torches and floating orbs of light. Every species of giant lizard you remember from that trip to the Field Museum in fourth grade and several others are represented in a cajoling mass. On a raised dais a scarred Stegosaurus reclines, wrapped in the tattered remains of a lab coat. He beckons to you, silencing the crowd. "You, human. Step forward. We have waited for one like you. Not many survive the journey." He may be an herbivore but the guards moving toward you aren't. You comply. "We have found a great boon out in no-Dino's-land. This is one of your greatest machines. The Queen says it is an oracle, but we know it is a tool. You will show us how to use it properly that we may have the victory". "Please let me recognize it" you think as the crowd parts before you. As you

ascend the dais your heart falls because you actually do recognize the "oracle". It’s a part of the machinery in the lab, back when things in your life almost made sense. Specifically a part of the console with one giant red button. They do have walnut-sized brains after all. If you try to blunder your way through with the device, turn to page 84. If you decide honesty is the best policy and tell them you have no idea what to do, turn to page 314. If you try to make a break for it, turn to page 110.

Page 84 (The Saurus)

"Sure." you reply "I actually helped to design this machine. What you do is..." You slam your fist down on the red button like a man trying to fire mashed potato across the room slams his fork, and turn to run through the still-parted crowd. You have no idea what the button does, but you know you don't want to be close when it happens. You make it about ten meters before an Anklyosaurus sweeps his tail at you, trying to knock you off your feet. Without thinking, you perform a mighty forward somersault and land on your feet to continue running "FUCK" you think "How did I do that?!", but soon you have your answer, gravity is weakening and you can feel a force slowing down everything around you. "Is this bullet time" you wonder, "Have I become 50 cent?" You hazard a look backwards and see dinosaurs scraping the floor with their talons as they're sucked towards a newly formed vortex around the console, truly you have doomed this dinorevolution before it had a chance to begin. Before you too are dragged in, you throw your arms around the heaviest thing you can find, the tail of a diplodocus - a creature, you hope, too stupid to register any complaints - but it is a futile action and soon the two of you are falling through the timestream to God knows where.

Turn to page 56.

Page 56 (The Saurus)

The diplodocus lands with a heavy thump on the dirt below, as you graze your face against his tail. You close your eyes for a few moments, dreading where you have been brung this time. Eventually you summon the courage and look around, and see nothing of interest on the edge of this forest. Until that is, your newfound friend moves, and you espy, among the flattened reptile corpses, the Stegosaurus who spoke to you in the chamber. Yes, his lab coat is new and unragged, and he is in two dimensions, but it is most definitely him. Pondering how you have affected the course of the futurepast with this action, you decide it is time to take some action. Will you search the flattened reptile corpses for any clue of how you can get back home? Turn to page 107. Enter the dense forest to your right? Turn to page 6. Or try to befriend the diplodocus (who has been happily chewing leaves off trees since you landed) so that you might use him as a form of transport in this unknown land? Turn to page 213.

Page 213 (Teddybear)

You decide that the terrain is far too much to cover by foot. You try to judge how far you've walked today, how tired you feel, and how much faster the diplodocus may be than yourself. You immediately disregard any fact or reason, because let's be honest, you grew up wanting to be a dinosaur-- or, failing that, a dinosaur jockey.

With a solemn pat to his waferized head, you bid farewell to your scientific compatriot and turn your attention to the behemoth in front of you. He stands at least a hundred feet long, approximately the length of the urinal trough back in lab 5A. He looks like he would be much nicer to put your feet on, too. You mull disturbing him from his leaves. A creature this massive needs to be handled with care. How do you even ride one of these things? You decide to call out. "Hello!" Because as it turns out, you have to start somewhere. Hearing the noise, the diplodocus turns his head away from the leaves with a confused and inquisitive "mrrrhh?" Shit. Shit. Big dinosaur. Staring at you. Shit. "How, um, how are those leaves? The weather is lovely? What are your hobbies? Do you like baseball?" Whenever you get nervous, you ask too many questions. Nothing living around except you and the diplodocus, no magical time portal to save you if you botch this. Focus. "Of course you don't, nobody likes baseball, I'm not sure why baseball exists, it's just a sport with running and sticks and hitting things and--" You realize that you're rambling, and to the diplodocus you're probably making nothing but sounds. You swallow hard, then try again. You picture the diplodocus as a cuddly pet. A big, cuddly pet. A big, hundred foot long, extinct, cuddly pet. Breathe. "Hi Mister Diplodocus... Are the leaves yummy?" The diplodocus makes what you could swear was an affirmative moan. You realize in a flash that you're still wearing the Babelsaur. This thing actually

understands you, and you it. And judging by its behavior, you've managed to grab a... special diplodocus. This bolsters your confidence somewhat. "Can you understand me?" He nods. "Can I call you Dippy?" He nods. "Can I get on your back?" He vomits. Bits of leaves marinating in stomach acid splatter on the ground between the two of you, nearly getting on your pants. You recoil back. After turning off the fountain, Dippy looks up to you and nods again, a smidgen of drool dripping from his mouth. He turns back to the leaves to refill his tank. Well, you've lived your life up until today believing that three nods is consent enough to get on someone's backside, and you're sure as shit not going to stop now. Maneuvering around the pile of sick, you gently place a hand on Dippy's tail, then climb onto it. You gradually shimmy up his back. Finally, with one last pull, you made it. Congratulations; you've mounted the downsisaur. It may not be exactly what you thought it would be when you were a kid, but goddammit, you're riding a dinosaur. You survey the situation. From your new vantage point, you can see along the tree tops, and around the horizon. In the middle of the forest, one tree is unusually higher than the rest, jutting out from the natural canopy. In the other direction, there is open field, and what looks to be some light coming from a point in the distance. Looking up and down the tree line, you notice there's a strict, almost unnatural delineation between plains and forest-- as if the outermost trees formed a deliberate fence separating the two. If you want to go into the forest and investigate the tree, turn to page 267. If you want to go across the plains towards the point of light, turn to page 178. If you want to follow along the boundary of the forest and investigate the border, turn to page 385.

Page 267 (Chewbot)

Standing on tiptoes by Dippy's head, you try to figure out what this latest world you've fallen into could be. It looks a lot like the time-space you were just in, minus the future tech, airships, people and, suspiciously, dinosaurs. If you remember correctly, you should be surrounded by the revolution leaders, but aside from the leader accidentally smooshed by Dippy, they seem to have gone MIA. Wait a second, you think, glancing back at the puddle of ex-dino… wearing a lab coat? Isaac…? No, couldn’t be. In the far distance a monolithic oak breaks far above the surrounding treetops and you nudge Dippy in its general direction, constantly adjusting as the diplodocus gets distracted by everything in its path. Wading through the woods gets dicey, but eventually you find yourself passing enormous tree roots and you enter a tidy and well-manicured clearing. “Haw, another defeat, I’m afraid!” bellows the character before you, moving his bishop to a definitive checkmate. You can’t help but notice the two dapper gentlemen in front of you, decked out in top hats and tailcoats are in fact a pair of raptors. “STOP! STOP! LOOK OUT, IDIOT DINOSAUR!” you shout as they casually step aside and Dippy comes to a slow stop, with one last stomp crushing the raptor’s chess board with a crunch at the base of the enormous tree. Well, this is it, you think. We’ve smashed some vicious carnivore’s game table and now we’re done for. “I say, third time this week, Mr. Catterwaul. I do believe we’re starting to see a pattern here.” “Regrettably so, my friend!” he responds. “No matter, I’m off. Shall we re-match again tomorrow, Mr. Farrington?” “Indubitably!” Mr. Catterwaul gallops away, and you relax slightly. On your revised weirdness scale, this is only rating around a six-point-five. “Mr. Farrington” wanders around to Dippy’s side and takes off his monocle, tucking it into his vest pocket. “Well, then, welcome to the Tree of Time.” He gestures up the tall branches and you noticed for the first time that at each

branch a hole entering the tree’s trunk contains a time portal not unlike the ones you’ve been hopping through. There must be thousands of them… hundreds of thousands! A myriad of other raptors of all sizes in various outfits shuffle across the legion limbs, going about their business. Some look down at you with curiosity. “This is the hub for all reasonable time travel,” he states. “Quite convenient, don’t you agree? Certainly beats the chaos zone.” Your mouth hangs agape and you stutter “Could… Could you take me back to my own time?” The raptor shrugs. “Of course, good sir, or at least somewhere similar I presume.” Dippy makes a happy grunt, which sounds something like GONK. Mr. Farrington leads you on a path around the tree tower when an impact suddenly rocks the earth. “Ah, nevermind that, sir, just the meteors!” He sees your confused expression and continues, “We are ever besieged by meteors, my friend! Fortunately, the Time Tree reverses the impacts nearest us, but leaves the rest of the planet in a dreadful mess. Lucky for you, you didn’t wander out into the open or walk right off the edge of the world, but I suppose only an utter buffoon would do such a thing. Haw!” You approach a massive opening at the base of the tree. “Aha, here we are,” he says, as you pass through an ornate gate reading “Time Ever Branching” and up a ramp heading into the boughs. “Now, if you’ll kindly dismount your companion, we’ll get those testicles removed in a jiffy!” Your mood shifts unexpectedly from elated to confused to cautiously panicked. The weirdness scale has just been elevated to at least nine. “My, uh… wait a second…” A small crowd of raptors are starting to gather. “Just a small matter or two, my friend!" he guffaws at his own joke. "Quite the deal, wouldn't you agree?” He looks around, and you start to wonder if these are even the original stewards of the time tree. “There you are!” Mr. Farrington shouts, beckoning to a raptor that has shown up in a white smock and a stethoscope. “Dr. Everett Canklethorpe here will get you squared away! Best velocidoctor in the land, you won't feel a thing. Pip pip!”. You’re quite suddenly finding yourself surrounded, and even Dippy is smart enough to look nervous.

From Dippy’s back you think you can scramble up a nearby branch, away from the ever-growing pack of raptors. Do you make a break for it up the tree and leave Dippy as a diversion, dashing into the best-looking portal, maybe even back home? Turn to page 345. Trust in Dippy and your Swiss Army Knife to try to fight your way out of Raptor Land? Turn to page 121. Or go balls-out and try to reason your way through this? Turn to page 410.

Page 121 (Feinne)

You’ve faced down dinosaurs, cyborgs, and all manner of bullshit today and there’s one thing you’re damn sure of: You’re not going to take it lying down while a bunch of dinosaurs are trying to eat your balls. And to make matters worse, the knife blade on your Swiss Army Knife seems to be stuck! Cursing, you withdraw the corkscrew and shout the most intimidating battle-cry you can muster on such short notice. “You little raptor bitches better run, or I’m gonna corkscrew the FUCK outta you! I’m a fuckin’ WIZARD with this thing!” You leap off of Dippy’s back, sweeping the curly instrument back and forth in a menacing arc. The raptors seem taken aback by this madcap display, and hesitate. Thinking fast, you take advantage of their confusion and charge at Mr. Farrington, who you’re hoping is some sort of leader among the raptors. You seize the dinosaur in a crude headlock, the corkscrew to its throat. “I say my dear chap, this is a bit much for something so minor, yes? I mean to look at you, it’s not like you were doing much with those testicles.” You’ll be damned if you’re going to take shit like that from a dinosaur, and jam the corkscrew into its neck. The raptor reels and flops as dark blood flows from

the wound. It staggers away into the group of raptors, slurring. “I seem… to be… in a bit of bad sorts…” Mr. Farrington collapses to the ground, twitching and sputtering. The other raptors seem to be entirely demoralized by the brutal corkscrewing and you remount Dippy unopposed. Dippy, for his part, makes a break for the upper boughs as soon as you climb on his back. After what feels like an eternity, you reach a peculiar sort of intersection. To the left, a crude wooden sign labeled ‘Your Past’. In the middle, a rather shabby corrugated metal sign reads ‘Your Present’. On the right, an ostentatious sign bears the legend ‘Your Future’. You can hear scrambling up the tree that suggests the raptors have come to a consensus about you, and it’s probably not good. But which path to take? Do you take the left path of The Past? Turn to page 291. The middle path of The Present? Turn to page 6. The right path of The Future? Turn to page 406.

Page 6 (Rianeva)

All you ever wanted was to go home, and what could be more like home than the present? You point Dippy at the middle portal and ride him into it, narrowly escaping the pack of velociraptors behind you. The first thing you notice on the other side is the stench of excrement. The second thing is that Dippy is no longer with you -- hopefully, he's in a better place now. You peel yourself off the floor to find yourself in the ladies' room at Waverley Corporation headquarters. The only other person here is your coworker Chet, scrubbing out a stall in which unspeakable things have happened. He turns awkwardly, somewhat constricted

by the stall. "Hey buddy! Boss was lookin' for you. Looked 'bout ready to blow his top. Somethin' about three days without callin' or somethin', I dunno... say, wanna take over here?" Oddly enough, he seems completely unconcerned about the Babelasaur still sitting on your head. Chet was never the brightest janitor around here, though. Three days?! There goes that perfect attendance award, and your $300 bonus... You say something along the lines of "No, I don't want to clean that shit up" to Chet, and step out into the hall to get away from the smell. A Deinonychus scurries past, a stack of papers clutched in its arms and its claws scraping the concrete floor. Wait, what? You rub your eyes, but it doesn't help; that was clearly a dinosaur. And it looks like it works here! Clearly all is not well, what with dinosaurs roaming the halls and your boss probably one misplaced broom away from firing you. There has to be a way to get back to your real home... if you feel up to the challenge. You could head down to the lab to see if they're still working on time portals. Turn to page 224. Or sneak into the CEO's office to look for more and easier to understand information. Turn to page 203. Or you could take a break from all this time traveling and go home for tonight. Turn to page 357.

Page 203 (Factorialite)

You decide to sneak into your CEO’s office and try to find out what the fuck is going on. As you walk down the corridor that will take you there, you look out the window to see that more or less everything is the way you left it: the only real noticeable difference is the different cars in the parking lot. You see the random recognizable Civic or Impala here or there but you also see something called a

“Jurassa,” which appears large enough to carry that Deinonychus you passed earlier. You think it must be his. Your trusty Chevy Vega is still there, though, so that gives you a relief. You finally reach the office of your boss, Dick Waverley. You find that his office is locked. How are you supposed to get in? The Swiss Army Knife! It’s stuck in the corkscrew position, but lo and behold it’s a perfect fit and the door turns easily. As you step into his office, you immediately notice that your boss looks more or less identical than he did before, but where there once was a picture of him and his wife on the wall there lies a picture of him and Isaac shaking hands. Isaac looks a lot older than he did in your past-present. Interesting… You decide to sit at the computer and see if you can get some idea about what’s going on. You expect that there will be a password, but as you turn the PC on a simple [S.A.K. No. 328 Detected] comes up on the screen, and you have access! This Swiss Army Knife is a curious tool indeed… You search the computer but find nothing of real interest to you until you come across a document simply titled “Janitor.” As you start to read it, you realize that there must be more to Dick Waverley than you originally thought. It’s almost as if he wanted you to have that knife for a reason… All of a sudden, you hear a thunderous crash! A look out the window confirms your greatest fear: the men in black that shot at you in the past-present are here! This time, not only are there men equipped with flamethrowers and Peacemakers, but they count a Leptoceratops and a Stegosaurus amongst their number as well! They must be after the machine again, and [alert: pun]time is now of the essence. Do you stay in the office and read this document addressed to you? Or perhaps attempt to head the men off at the laboratory? Maybe you opt for flight instead of fight and run for your Chevy Vega. WHAT WILL YOU DO? To read the document, turn to page 34.

To fight off the intruders, turn to page 114. To attempt to escape, turn to page 217.

Page 34 (bbcisdabomb)

As the men (and other species) in black crash their way into the building, you figure you have around five minutes to read before you must find a way out. You turn your attention to janitor.txt: From: The Administrator (administrator@gx* To: Dick Waverly (, Agent Smith (smith@smyth.smith), King Stegosaurus ( David Copperfield ( Subject: Superb Work I believe congratulations are in order for the masterful handling of our unwitting puppet. Even after the first portal opened in the mouth of a dinosaur you all have managed to keep him unaware of our plans and travelling through the time stream, establishing his nature as a paradox. I feel I should mention Waverly’s excellent start to the plan. Firstly, managing to give him knife 832 without allowing him to examine it was a stroke of genius. Secondly, faking your own death to your company’s own private military is hard enough, but faking the deaths of the entire company to the same is a step above. The King sacrificing several hundred of his closest retainers to a vortex also deserves recognition, I think. Do not let the success go to your head, however. The man who would be the key to our success is still an ordinary man at this point, and must be carefully controlled. Failure to continue the plan could spell not only our doom, but the doom of every man, dino, and sentient being on this plane of existence.

As we draw closer to tonight, the night of the Universal Equilibrium, do not lose sight of our goals. Remember, if we complete the Ritual tonight we shall all become powerful as gods!

Addendum: Don’t let that idiot Isaac near our subject again. He has clearly lost his mind. There is also a link to a picture file in the email. It contains a photocopy of an ancient piece of some sort of parchment written in what looks like claw scratches. The Babelsaur whispers in your ear as it translates: And they will become as of gods upon the sacrifice of a sufficient Paradox: One who has travelled through Time, but returns to his true Home. One who Serves, but Decides for himself. One who Vanquishes his enemies, but Saves his own kind. One who Thinks before he acts, but will Rush to carry a decision out. One who has Died, but remains in Life. One who Believes, but accepts the Blessings of others. Only this Paradox carries sufficient power to sustain the Ritual. You’re not certain if the parchment was written in a pompous language or if the Babelsaur is on the fritz again, but as you sit back to contemplate what you’ve read and thank the good Lord that Dick Waverly is slightly dyslexic, it all makes sense. The men in black coming for you. The dinosaurs. The crazy man who is trying to kill you. The time portals! . . . On second thought, you still don’t understand the time portals. You can hear boots on the floor outside the office. All you can really be certain of is you REALLY don’t want to be caught by them. If you Attempt to climb out the window, turn to page 123. If you want to Fight your way out with whatever you still have after your adventures, turn to page 255. If you want to Hide in the office, turn to page 300.

If you just want to Go home by any route possible, turn to page 357.

Page 255 (Vicas)

You're feeling a bit claustrophobic in here. You look over to the window, as the doors will surely be busted down any moment. But... no, you're tired of all this bullshit. You've seen enough today- err, these days- or maybe, this timeline, that you're just getting tired. If you run now you might get your wife involved in this, if she even exists in this timeline. If they want you now for some voodoo ritual or whatever, they're gonna fight for you. You pull out that swiss army knife. If it's special for some reason, maybe you can use it to defend yourself from hoards of armed men and dinosaurs... you hope. You play around with it, trying to get something other than the corkscrew to come out, but it seems it's stuck! Looks like when they decided to make this thing all special for whatever reason they had to take out a lot of tools, and they didn't even replace it with a laser gun or something. Looks like it's you and the screw, together until the end. You can hear frantic moving around in the building. It can only be a matter of time before they find you here. You brace yourself by the door, listening for passersby. You hear footsteps, fast and purposeful. Twisting the door handle quietly, you tense yourself for a surprise attack, and just as a shadow passes the translucent glass of the door, you push it open and jab at the figure repeatedly, knocking him to the floor. Unfortunately, whatever the man is wearing is tougher than your poor corkscrew, which is all bent out of shape. Suddenly, you realize something about the man. It's Isaac, dressed up in the same suit and tie that all the government agents are, and and looking very surprised. "Aha! I've found you first!" You know what's coming next, and really, you don't want to stomach that shit any longer. "I know, I know, I've killed you so many times, now it's your turn to kill me, or something like that, can we just skip that part?"

He looks up at you, confused. "Killed me? I'm not sure- oh, right, time travel." He seems okay with that explanation, and you realize that this must be an Isaac from before all the times you happened to cause his death. But he was a scientist, wasn't he? You guess that this alternate timeline must have a lot of changes. Maybe now you can actually learn something from him before he dies a horrible death or tries to kill you in much the same way. He looks you over before talking again. "Anyway, whatever you've done to other me’s in the past or future or whatever, it doesn't matter, I'm here to help you." He stands up. "Listen, they're gonna find you. Just give up when it happens, they won't kill you yet. You're really important to them, so you'll still have a chance to-" He cuts himself off quickly as a Leptoceratops turns the corner and spots you. It lets out a yell, "I've found him!" and suddenly it's as if everyone in the building is converging on you. Footsteps pound everywhere as several men and dinosaurs surround you. Isaac pushes something into your hand quickly before melting back into the crowd. You can't tell what it is, but you slip it into your pocket quickly before someone notices it in the chaos. Pretty soon every gun in the room is pointed at you, and several dinosaurs look ready to pounce. This looks pretty bad. Will you give yourself up, like Isaac suggested? Turn to page 27. Fiddle with that stupid swiss army knife some more in hopes that it really does have some sort of death laser? Turn to page 263. See what Isaac gave you and pray that it'll get you out of this sticky situation? Turn to page 58.

Page 27 (Magnetic North

Issac's never lead you astray... well, in this timeline anyway, and its hard to argue with dinosaurs and guns. You raise your arms slowly above your head,

looking to the ravenous Leptocerati and Dilophosauri, knowing they understand you as you say, "I surrender." The dinosaurs snarl, and lower their heads. Two suited humans look at one another, nod in unison and team up to promptly handcuff you and put a black cloth bag over your head. Over the next fifteen minutes, you're hurriedly lead down numerous flights of stairs, and sense elevator motion and your ears popping, though you aren't sure if you're going up or down. Throughout the whole trip, you're trying to move your arms from behind you to feel what it is Issac put in your pocket. You're trusting Issac's plan, whatever it is, but it must have involved this thing... The bag is whipped off of your head suddenly, and as your eyes adjust to the light, you appear to be standing in a large and magnificently appointed executive suite. There are no windows, but rows and rows of televisions screens behind a 15 foot tall chair, itself behind an equally over-sized desk. You can't make sense of what's on the screens, as your eyes are still adjusting to the room. Slowly and silently, the occupant turns to face you. He is a Tyrannosaurus, wearing a maroon smoking jacket, with a cigarette in a long, obsidian holder in one claw, and a snifter of dark red liquor in the other. He leans forward ominously, placing the cigarette to rest as he exhales the final puff of the fine, Iranian tobacco. "Welcome, my friend. I'm Recksth. Thso glad you could join me tonight." The tryannosaurus seems to have a bit of a lisp. He looks you over momentarily, then commands with a dismissive, mincing motion of his free claw. "Oh, let him out of thosth thingsth. He'sth not an animal." One of two men who had been standing behind you reached to unlock your handcuffs. "You may go, you big sthilliesth." The two suited humans turn and leave, leaving the exit to the room guarded only by the two dinosaur sentries previously posted. They appear to be Montanoceratopi, or Udanoceratopses or maybe, oh for fuck's sake, how are you supposed to know all these very specific dinosaur phylums and families? You're a fucking janitor, not a goddamn dinosaur scientists. You don't even know what a dinosaur scientist would be called! Dinocologyist, maybe? God, you're dumb.

"Now, letsth get down to buisthnessth." Rex soliloquizes. "I'm quite thsorry to thse all the trouble you've been through, all becausth of a little mithunderthtanding." He flippantly gestures with his open claw with each sentence. "But don't worry your sthilly little head for another sthecond; I think I can get you back to your home timeline. Asth you may have sthurmisthed, I'm the adminithtrator of this fathility. But don't misthtake that for sthomeone who'sth got histh clawth on all the sthrtingsth. I, asth well, am a victim of sthercumsthance. You've met that... other Tryannothauruth. I had sthimilar misthfortunesth. Sthtolen away from my native timeline, I sthought your sthoverign government'sth assthisthansthe in resthoring the stherene sthanctity of sthpace and time." "But I need your help." He leans further forward. "But firstht... would you mind?" With his weak little claw, he indicates a corked bottle of wine, seated in a bucket of ice before him. "I'd do it mysthelf, but... opposthable thumbsth and all." You approach slowly, and retrieve the trusty swiss army knife in from your pocket, brushing against the object Issac gave you, having momentarily forgotten it was there. You pull out both, carefully peeking at the object as you look sheepishly at the bent corkscrew to hide what your doing. The thing Isaac's given you is a tiny opaque metal canister of something. You can tell there used to be a label, but it's worn off. You can make out a B, or maybe it's an R. There's a neck to the device, but no apparent mechanism to release its contents. You walk up in front of the bottle. Only now do you notice the scorched portion of the otherwise immaculate carpet right beside the bottle, and a large, ovular device with a point aimed straight down, suspended in an hidden alcove in the ceiling directly above you. You smell ozone, and dinosaur shit, but you're used to the latter. Do you comply with Rex's request and attempt to open that bottle of wine with the mangled corkscrew? Turn to page 40,000,000,000,000,000, formerly Page 3 AKA Alabama Pi.

Attack him with the contents of the canister? Turn to page 201. Attempt to use the contents of the canister on yourself? Turn to page 70.

Page 70 (ultra-inquisitor)

Pulling out the canister, you quickly feel it over, looking for some hint to using it. Your thumb rubs against a slight groove, and you quickly make out a slightly inset area at the opposite end to the neck. Holding it up in front of you, you focus on it, Recksth's impassive outline dissipating in a gentle blur. Your fore finger presses hard against the button. A large blast of tear gas hits you square in the face. Choking and half-blinded, you drop to the floor. Instinct, of an animal kind honed over millions of years, forces to back to your feet. You stumble, trampling the canister, which releases another blast of gas. As the fumes envelop you, you turn and career wildly towards the door. Through the stinging water in your eyes, you briefly see the shadows of the guards as they move in on you, but the gas is thick, and hides your escape. Out in the corridor, you do not pause for breath, but blunder on. The softlycarpetted executive halls are unfamiliar to you, but even they are victim to health and safety requirements, and the sight of a fire escape renews your determination. Swinging open the fire door, you hurry down the metal staircase as fast as you dare. Pausing at a window, you see several guards rush past, presumably on their way up to intercept you, but you have given them the slip and reach the ground unnoticed. You quickly survey your options. Going back in the building would be far too dangerous. Two thoughts occur. The police station is just down the block. If you wish to seek sanctuary there, and report your experiences to the police,

turn to 113. Otherwise, you can head to the carpark and attempt to make your way home. Turn to 264.

Page 113 (Snipee)

You are sick of it. You are sick of zany time-traveling scientists, of hilariously retarded dinosaurs, of castrating gentleman raptors, of lisping seven ton executives. You are sick of all of it. It is time to go to the proper authorities and to get your life back on track. You walk purposefully to the intersection and take a left. As you are walking down the street, you inevitably start reflecting on your experiences. Wait a second, just how exactly did the dinosaurs fit in the building earlier? I could have sworn your average lizard tyrant was over three stories tall, and you were talking to one just minutes earlier on a room that was just under ten feet. For that matter, how did the building withstand all that weight? You were walking down a staircase for God's sake. Man, your life sucks. You look up from the ground to see a thirty story building. Now that's more like it. You step inside the brick building. It is a brightly lighted room with industrial air conditioning. Fully uniformed Deinonychuses are chomping on donuts alongside their human counterparts, and you start wondering about the health effects of deep fried dough on dinosaurs. Now that you are actually here, you are at a loss for words. You walk up to the receptionist. “Um. Hello. Er, I want to report a crime scene and -” While the police officers turn around to notice you, you glance at the poster on the far right. There is an unflattering drawing of your face and the text reads as followed: “The time traveling janitor is still at large. Wanted for thirty-eight counts of murder, fifteen counts of armed assault, and three counts of theft. If you see this man, please contact the police immediately.” Fucking Issac. The silence is now suffocating.

Before you even managed to work out the words to save yourself, one of the Deinonychuses managed to tackle you from behind and pin you to the floor. “You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to speak to an attorney, and to -.” You rack your brain for a way out of this mess. You do not want to go to prison, and you are terrified of the prospect of dropping the soap in front of a giant monster. If you have a pillow with you, turn to page 10. If you have a dent corkscrew, turn to page 280. If you do not have any of the items or do not wish to use it, continue on to dinosaur court in page 301.

Page 301 (JosephWongKS)

Setting aside the fact that the Deinonychus pinning you down could rip you to pieces in moments with his fangs and claws; there were at least 50 other policemen and police-dinos in the vicinity, each one of them was armed with the standard issue Glock 22 (the Deinonychus' guns being specially remolded to fit the talons of the police-dinos), and you could hear the police sergeant radioing the police and army HQs to put them on alert about your location in the event of your escape. You were tagged as a dangerous felon of the highest degree and it was most unlikely that any law enforcer would shoot to capture or wound. Between the certain death of escape and the almost-certain death at the end of whatever judicial procedures existed in this time-stream, you chose near-certain death, as was rational and wise. And thus you were hand-cuffed and shackled, strip-searched, photographed from 24 angles, and thrown into solitary detention while the wheels of justice slowly

turned. Strangely, you are allowed to retain your Swiss Army Knife - the police officers' eyes seem to glaze over every time they look in the direction of the Knife, and none of them appear even to be aware of its presence. The Knife does you a fat lot of good, with only the corkscrew available and singularly useless in a prison environment. As a janitor you could barely afford rent, let alone the services of a top-notch defence lawyer, but the police are true to their words and a public defender is assigned to you. As you wait in the spartan meeting room for your first meeting with your attorney, your hopes briefly soar as you consider the possibility of actually getting out of this mess as a free man, alive, with all your limbs and sanity intact. Your morale rapidly sinks, though, when the door opens and in staggers a slouching, pallid man with a bright red face and a shaggy beard, wearing a rumpled jacket and a half-done tie, thoroughly reeking of alcohol. "Oh, how wonderful," you groan, "they got me an attorney all right - the worst one they could possibly find." "Mooood gorning, cur," your attorney greets you as he misses the chair and collapses on to the floor, your police guards sniggering openly at the sight. "Cweased to neat chu. I am Caasi."

"Caasi?" you consider, looking more closely at the shambling wreck before you as he clumsily pulls himself up into the chair. "Is... is that Isaac? It is! What the hell happened to him?"

Before you can call out to your old buddy-nemesis, "Caasi" pulls a card from his jacket and slides it across the table to you. "Hair's muh naaarm-gard," he slurs, "dankyewwurrymush." You take the card proferred to you and suddenly Isaac's voice rings resoundingly in your mind. "Do not respond. Do not show any emotion on your face. You will only hear this message once. I have destroyed my mind with alcohol and drugs to

get past their identity detectors and bring this to you. You will be safe until the trial for they have plans for you. Bring the SAK to the trial - you will know what to do with it. Farewell - we will never see each other again." "Caasi" is snoring loudly on the table by now, and remains asleep for the remainder of the one hour set aside for your meeting. Laughing openly, your police guards drag "Caasi" out of the meeting room as you ponder Isaac's cryptic message. ----------------"Caasi" does not contact you again. You ask for another public defender and are told that you are only entitled to one. The day of the trial arrives and you are dressed in your smartest prison uniform and marched off to the court-house. The place is packed full of curious spectators and news crews - you have become a notorious "mass-murderer" since your arrest and the crowd is eager to see "justice" done. They remain silent, though, in awe of the majesty of the law represented by the court-room. And also probably the sheer size of the courtroom - ten storeys tall and 100 feet in length and in breadth. "All stand!" the bailiff announces. "All stand for His Honour His Excellency His Highness His Reverence His Majesty King Eternalsaurus!" The judge enters the court-room as the assembled stands to attention, their faces glowing with love and utmost respect. The judge enters the court-room, wearing an ermine robe and a white wig, and bearing all the terrible stature of an arbiter of law who is also a 50-foot tall, 10-tonne dinosaur. For the judge is the very Tyrant Lizard which sent you on this long adventure in the first place. "Surprised?" King Eternalsaurus winks at you. "Don't be. In fact, I must thank you for my present position. I have seen much, done much, eaten much, since you brought me into this time-stream and we parted in the forests of Avalon." "I have witnessed the birth and death of planets; devoured dying stars and consumed blackholes; guided primitive single-celled amoeba along the path of

evolution into space-travelling civilizations; founded kingdoms and nations and led them into self-destruction and extinction. I have become as unto God." "Oh, them?" King Eternalsaurus smiles as he notices you glancing at the crowd to see their reactions to the King's revelations. "Don't mind them - they only hear what I want them to hear. To them, I am - and have always been - the revered founder of the nation, the unifier of the world, the King, Prime Minister and President, the Cabinet and Privy Council, the Pope, Chief Rabbi and Ayatollah... and also Judge, Jury and Executioner." King Eternalsaurus grins as he finishes his speech, cruelly flashing you his mouthful of densely packed, razor-sharp teeth. From his gigantic mouth shines the swirling glow of galaxies, and you think you spot the disembodied heads of Dick Waverly as well as that of a stegosaurus wearing a crown. He steps off the judge's podium and starts walking towards you, and as this clear and present danger approaches ever closer, you suddenly recall the memory of the photocopied parchment you saw in your ex-boss's office: And they will become as of gods upon the sacrifice of a sufficient Paradox: One who has travelled through Time, but returns to his true Home. One who Serves, but Decides for himself. One who Vanquishes his enemies, but Saves his own kind. One who Thinks before he acts, but will Rush to carry a decision out. One who has Died, but remains in Life. One who Believes, but accepts the Blessings of others. Only this Paradox carries sufficient power to sustain the Ritual. It is all clear to you now. King Eternalsaurus is "as unto a God", having somehow achieved sentience and super-intelligence and consumed the instigators of the conspiracy that had inadvertently set him on his original journey. But he is not yet an actual god, and you are the last remaining piece he needs (to eat) to achieve true godhood. You take out the Swiss Army Knife that has been your constant companion since the chaos began, and you realise what it is you have to do.

During your journeys, did you: Cure the plague afflicting the peasants of Castle Entreeax? If so, add 2 Spirit Points. Leave a Wizard to die in a rain of Raptors? If so, deduct 2 Spirit Points. Give a Wizard a ride in a phone booth? If so, add 2 Spirit Points. Assassinate Queen Dinopolous? If so, deduct 3 Spirit Points. Destroy the dinosaur rebel command? If so, deduct 3 Spirit Points. Organise a peace treaty between Queen Dinopolous and the dinosaur rebels? If so, add 3 Spirit Points. Abandon a diplodocus to the tender mercies of Dr Everett Canklethorpe? If so, deduct 1 Spirit Point. Save a diplodocus from losing his chance at fatherhood? If so, add 1 Spirit Point. Blind Recksth with the contents of a canister? If so, deduct 2 Spirit Points. If you have less than 5 Spirit Points, turn to 410. If you have 5 or more Spirit Points, turn to 420.

Page 410 (JosephWongKS)

"‫ ,גארראן לאגאן‬SPIN ON!" you shout, and the corkscrew of the SAK spirals out towards the jaws of the unsuspecting King Eternalsaurus. " ‫"!ג'יגה ...מפסק ...מקדח‬ King Eternalsaurus screams in pain and shock when the tip of the corkscrew punctures the time portal in his mouth, unleashing waves of energy which spiral

along the corkscrew towards you. As the gathered crowds break out into mass panic and horror, you calmly unlock the USB from the SAK... ... and coolly jam it into your eye, absorbing the collected knowledge and power of the billions of galaxies and trillions of souls that King Eternalsaurus had consumed in all his jaunts through time and space, uniting them within yourself.

"And thus did it come to pass that in A.D. (After Dino) 1 that Our Lord Janitorus did shed His humble mortal coils and take His destined and rightful place on the Golden Throne. His first dictat was to purge the timestream of all heretics, all who bore knowledge that could threaten the bountiful peace that Our Lord Janitorus would herald. Thus did it come to pass that all 150,489 copies of the curiously ubiquitous being known as Ei-Zeck were cleansed from the multi-verse, its pagan mastery of time manipulation and reincarnation wiped out before it could muster a challenge to the authority of Our Lord Janitorus. Thereafter did Our Lord Janitorus rally His Crusadinos to inform the multiverse of his beneficent presence. Foremost among them were the Knights of the Wing brave T-Rexes mounted on stalwart Quetzalcoatlus equipped with the finest in kinetic technology. World after world happily and voluntarily agreed to be united under the reign of Our Lord Janitorus, gratefully accepting the blessings that He so generously proferred to one and all. And thus did it come to pass in A.D. 1,297 that Our Lord Janitorus united all the

worlds of all tributaries of the timestream under His Glorious Realm. All peoples and all dinos have enjoyed and will enjoy unending joy and prosperity ever since, and it is with a joyous heart and cheerful smile that each month 10,000,000 of our brightest youths and hatchlings do enter the Golden Chamber to accompany Our Lord Janitorus as He meditates on the nature of the multiverse and the best way to bring ever more peace and harmony to the faithful and glad-hearted masses." --- The Ascension of Our Lord Janitorus, by Herodinos (A.D. 12,586,093 - A.D. 12,586,193)

Assorted deaths

Page 91 (Roar)

Your eyes scan frantically across the weaponry available to you. All of them seemed adequate for fucking up dinos. The fluorescent glow of the axe, however, stood out among the others. You leap over the desk and snatch it off of the wall, finding it unusually light for its size. The metal seemed to be humming softly in your eardrums. The intruding dinosaurs, however, had decided not to wait for you to prepare yourself. Three of the velocirapters darted past you in the direction of the metal worker in the corner, who had begun screaming in terror at their arrival. Another velocirapter had attacked the saber-toothed tiger, and you could barely even comprehend the nature of that space asshole. The fifth velocirapter, however, was crouched down and prepared to jump at you. Before you even had a chance to raise the axe, there was a whirring sound and

the dinosaur’s head was pierced with a wooden dart. Blood surged from the wound as both you and the now enraged dino turn in the direction that the dart had come from. The clerk is standing in the doorway now with the strangest crossbow you’d ever seen – it was a mishmash of metal and wood. “No!” the clerk shouts in your direction. “Don’t use that axe, it's just a display model! The one that actually works is in the back! That one's just kind of fucked up!” The velocirapter leaps at the clerk, screeching violently. You barely had time to notice, however, as the allosaur was headed straight for you. Ignoring the clerks warning, you heft the axe and raise it above your head. So what if it didn't work? The large dino was almost on you now; you could even smell its rancid breath. There wasn't enough time to worry about whether shit worked or not. “Take this, you toothy fucker!” you scream as you swing the weapon against the side of its head. There was a bright flash, and you felt as though you should have been knocked back. In reality, though, you had hardly even moved – though something was obviously different. There seemed to be a mirror there now, and you see yourself from a sort of odd angle, as if you were looking down onto yourself. Dread fills you as you realize that you – somehow – weren’t yourself anymore, but the allosaur! A sick, animalistic urge fills you as you no longer see your own body anymore, but simply prey. Your body looks just as confused as you feel, and a fleeting thought in your head wonders whether the allosaur is just as horrified as you are. Disregarding your own fleeting resistance, your dinosaur body reaches down and snaps your old body in half, right above the waist. Your last horrified sentient moment before the animal in you takes over is the realization that you taste really, really good. You died.

Page 93 (Joel De Bunchastu)
As you look over the weapons on display, your eyes rest on the mace; it would seem this is the least complicated looking of them, and right now you don't need MORE technological dickery fucking things up more severely. As you grab for it, you could swear you see the shopkeeper wince, but the mace itself feels nice and heavy in your grip, but as you pick it up the mace's hinges creak slightly and almost causes the mace's head to crush your foot, as it falls towards the floor. It begins to feel warm in your grip, and some kind of odd steam escapes from the top of the mace. The shopkeep looks a bit wary as he sees you grab the weapon, and as he attempts to aim at the eye of the dino, says to you, "That one there is armed! For fuck's sake, be careful!" You eye the C-Rex, as it stares you down, occasionally having some bit of historical detritus leak out of its mouth, unfortunately... more moist than it had been previously. It's then that the shopkeeper fires a bolt... directly into the C-Rex's nostril. It roars in anger and looks to see . Seeing that this might be your only chance to get close without using yourself as bait, you circle to the side of the enraged dinosaur, and raise the mace directly above your head, bellowing "GET AWAY FROM HIM YOU BI-" Your battlecry, pithy as it may have been, has been tragically cut short. You fall to the ground, the back of your skull given a terrifyingly powerful strike; as you lay on the ground, watching as the shopkeep is rent in two by the C-Rex's powerful jaws. You look away, by chance to where the mace was, and are startled to see bloodied fragments of bone and small pieces of tissue sticking to it, sizzling on the now red-hot surface of the mace... and then you notice the small brass bar that would have locked the pieces of the handle into place. "Aw, fuck..." you whisper, as the dino reaches down and, mercifully at this point, gives you a permanent headache cure; The last thing you see is a startled Isaac Newton as your head falls into his lap.


Page 178 (Mouser..)
Proudly sitting atop your new dinosaur friend, you are eager to continue on your quest to find a way out of this mess. Spying a light that appears in the distance, you quickly act to intercept the light before, you fear, it might disappear. “Dippy”, you yell “Head towards that light in the horizon!” Dippy makes a sound that can only be translated as absolute confusion at your directions. You change your tactics in speaking to your new special friend, “Ugh, Dippy, go get shiny thing in the sky!” Dippy faces the light, and is transfixed by the sight. You begin hearing him moan in a slow manner, your Babelsaur translates it as “Shiinnnyyy.” Dippy begins lumbering through the plain in the direction of the light, loud booms echoing through the air with every step that he takes. You smile in triumph as you have bested your Downsisaur's handicap, allowing yourself to daydream for a moment about the thrill of the events that have previously occurred in your adventure, you hope that the odds will continue to turn in your favor.. As you turn your eyes back to the light in the sky, you realize that it seems to be getting larger in size. At first, you believe this is because you have covered great strides upon your dinosaur during your brief daydream but when you look back, you find that Dippy has only covered about 100 yards from where you began. Looking forward again, you now see that there is a shape inside of the light. A large, rocky shape, and your heart sinks….”No, Dippy! Turn around! Don’t go towards the light anymore! No light! No shiny!” Dippy’s only response is to continue on a direct path towards the light, moaning “Shiiiinny.” The rocky light begins to grow in size, and is heading directly towards you as if attracted by magnetism. You panic, and begin trying to think of ways to scramble down from Dippy, but you are far too high up to safely get down while he is in motion. You speak in a hurried and panicked tone, “Dippy! Let me down, we’re in danger,

don’t you know what that is?! I can’t get down unless you lower your tail! Lower your tail, God damn it! We’re going to die if you don’t stop!” You come to the realization that you are doomed when despite all of your pleading, and protests, Dippy still only responds with “Shiiiinnyy” With the large rock that you now note is on fire, seconds away from you. You accept that there is no escape and sigh defeated “Aw fuck, Dippy….Meteors.” You feel the incredible heat from the meteor light your skin on fire and have but an instant to scream in pain before the meteor impacts, resulting in a tremendous explosion, which obliterates Dippy, and yourself. You Died.

Page 21 (AutistTree)
You and your trusty steed carefully make your way to the edge of the forest. An icy mist envelops everything here, freezing the few scraggly bushes that manage to grow on the rocky ground. You can't see far, and Dippy begins to get uneasy, wailing mournfully. Yet you decide to edge him on. The fog gets incredibly thick and cold here - you can't even see your hand in front of you, despite the warm orange glow of the sun shining dimly from above. Bravely, you trudge on, hearing a rumble somewhere - a volcano erupting? You press forward...

A poor choice, for you have not only reached the border of the forest, but the end of the world. As you and Dippy plunge to your death, past a stoned out Druid soaring by on his slab, your scream literally freezes in your throat as you float for a few seconds in space, finally succumbing to decompression.


Page 291 (100 HOGS AGREE)
Making a split decision, you take a running leap and dive into the portal that allegedly leads to your own past. The last thing you hear before the whirring, rushing sound of time travel overwhelms your ears is a chorus of highbrow curses from the raptors you narrowly avoided. You tumble head over heels as you are flung through time, a strange feeling of calm washing over you as everything suddenly goes black and you pass out. Groggily, you awaken to darkness and the sound of muffled screaming. You feel closed in, like the walls around you are pressing down against your body. The pressure is overwhelming, but at the same time, oddly comforting. Suddenly, you feel the need for more space and violently push out at your surroundings. Your arms free themselves, then your legs, and you tumble outward onto something warm and soft. Your eyes slowly adjust to the light and you see several gigantic shadows standing over you. One of the shadows lifts you into the air. "It's the first one, a beautiful baby boy! Let's get him wrapped up and ready for his parents." Another shadow responds, "Right away, doctor." As you're swaddled in a plush blanket and put into a covered bassinet it slowly dawns on you that you're literally in your own past. Your life has started over, yet you're cognizant and pretty sure you've retained all the memories of your former life. Maybe this time you'll get shit right and not end up as a janitor in a terrible deadend career. Exhausted from the all the time-based shenanigans of the past several hours, coupled with the stress of your own birth, you begin to fall asleep, the potential

of a new, unspoiled life dancing through your mind. As your eyes close, you swear you notice a scaly green figure wearing scrubs walk past the door to the room you are in. THE END...?

Page 357 (Bellmaker)
You've been bounced around through several time periods and chased by both man and beast. You've been shot at, snapped at, and on one occasion nearly castrated. Now you're under the distinct impression that your coworker is a dinosaur. You need a freaking nap. You stumble out of your workplace. The first thing you notice that everything appears to be as you left it. People are scurrying from place to place on the sidewalks, too absorbed in their personal problems to pay any attention to you. You do hear some teenager make a comment along the lines of "Nice hat!", but you are in too much of a hurry to get home to pay any attention to him. You live close enough nearby that you can walk home. As you start walking you notice that you feel out of breath and exhausted, as if you ran a marathon with a bunch of dinosaurs chasing you. Oh wait, you did. Your hands and feet feel like they are asleep, but that's probably because they're trying to get a head start on the rest of your body. As you enter your place you notice that none of the lights are on. You decide to check upstairs to see if your wife is home. You see her looking out the window in your bedroom wearing her favorite dress. "Honey, I'm-" you start to say, but the image you see when she turns around is nothing like you were expecting. Mostly because it's a man.

"Do you know how hard it's been to track you down? You've only killed me about forty-nine times already!" Crap, it's that wizard/bounty hunter/scientist nutjob again. "Listen Ian-" "It's Issac! Isaac Brunhildar! We go through this every time, and yet every single time you fail to remember and then manage to kill me! I've been chasing you for over thirty years! The damage you've caused to time and space can only be fixed by your FAILURE TO EXIST!" He's practically screaming at this point. He pulls a bizarre gun-like weapon out of his dress and aims it at you. It has a variety of spinning gadgets on it, including one that looks like a tiny satellite dish and another that looks like a drill bit. You can't even begin to comprehend what their functions are. "Now wait a second-" Isaac gives you a sinister smirk. "I'm not falling for that one again. That's how you got me the thirtieth time!" He then pulls the trigger. Time and space distort around you as you cease to exist. At least your moderately noble yet involuntary sacrifice prevents Tyrannosatan from existing as well. THE END

Page 40 quadrillion (XavierGenisi)
Shrugging, you take out the Swiss Army Knife, and attempt to remove the cork with the mangled corkscrew. You seem to have some problems trying to get the corkscrew to stick in there, given how it's covered in blood and bent out of shape.

Rex stares at you impatiently, rapping his claws against his desk. Finally, the corkscrew is in there, albeit at an odd angle, and the cork itself a bit mangled on the top. You begin to pull at the cork with a large amount of force, but it seems really wedged in there, surprisingly enough. "Isth there a problem?" Rex asks with an annoyed tone to the fact that you are currently unable to do something so simple as to open a bottle of wine. "No, no, no! It's all fine, I just need to apply a little stren-" POP! You tug at the bottle one last time, and you are interrupted with the sound of the bottle of wine blasting out of your arms and up towards the ceiling Before you can take action, the wine bottle smashes on the strange device hidden above you. It sparks alive, and a blast of energy fires down, hitting you. You try to move, but your body is frozen in place by some force.

Rex frowns. "How unfortunate." He removes a corkscrew from a desk drawer, showing it to you. "You sthould have asthked to usthe mine." Your body slowly begins to melt into a pile on the floor, leaving the smell of shit. You can hear Rex giving commands as you fade from consciousness: "Get another team into the lab and bring me another versthion of him. And get a janitor in here! I don't want a pile of histh corpsthesth to gather in here!" The End

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