Disclaimer: I do not own Dinosaur King
Ian's POV
Did you ever notice how every child in the world at some point are enthused with dinosaurs? And it's not just the kids. Most adults are intrigued by the dinosaur facts. If you ask me dinosaurs are a major part of our world history. Even though we never really understood them, or why or how they're extinct, the fact that walking with dinosaurs must have been an amazing feat. Most people study these giant lizards. I too study them, but not as a profession. I'm not a licensed palaeontologist. You're supposed to go to school and study what you want to be so your parents don't waste their money on your education. My parents wanted me to be a lawyer when I was young, so I never had the education I wanted. I never wanted to be a lawyer. My parents are just insane. So what am I doing now? I'm making funnel cakes.
Life as a janitor is a job that never challenges me, except physically. There's no career opportunities from it and I make as much money in two years as my parents would make in a week at their jobs, and I have to work longer than them. So why did I take part as a janitor— it was because I love the museum. I originally wanted to be a night watch men, but I don't like being in places at night. And I need to have at least nine hours of sleep each day. So I took part as a janitor. The curator, Mr. Canary, is nice. He is a kind sixty year old man with three kids. His oldest daughter is married to an accountant, her second oldest daughter is running her own business. I asked Mr. Canary what kind of business his daughter ran, and he replied " it's none of your business." And his younger son was a ski instructor.
One day while I was reading a book asking who Bill Clinton's favorite dinosaur was, Mr. Canary approached me with a card.
" For you," he said.
" What is it?" I asked.
" It's an invitation to my brothers birthday party. I expect you to join me, Ian?"
" Why me, sir?"
" I just thought you might enjoy a free meal and have a chance to meet important people."
" Like a mixer? Are you trying to set me up on a date, curator?"
" Ian…if I set you up with someone it wouldn't be true love. I'm giving you this because I need someone to accompany me. My brother's birthday parties can be a real bore. I'm frigate from the last party I went to. It's why I need someone to listen to the boring speeches while I try to spend ss much time with my brother as I can."
" You want me to be your wing man, curator?"
" In a way I do. It's not like I'm not going to pay you. Did I mention you will be giving free meals?"
" I would be honored to accompany you, curator? I just have one question."
" Uh, what is that?"
" Do they have any dogs in their homes?"
" Do you hate dogs?"
" No. I love dogs. They are like miniature dinosaurs but not as carnivorous or wild as them."
" They do have one dog. His name is Chewy. He's the sweetest dog in the whole wide world. How can you not love that dog? But since there are so many guests Chewy will be outside and I'll need you inside to back me up."
" Isn't there any chance I can play with the dog, curator?"
" Well, if we're the last guests to leave that's when Dianna will let Chewy in."
" Who's Dianna?"
" My brother's wife. He has a son who had back surgery so don't shake his hang. And don't hug him."
" I'm not going to hug him, sir? I hardly know him."
" Just don't come into contact with him. He got that injury playing rugby. I heard he's quite the rugby player. So is his brother Shawn I heard. And be careful with his daughter Shannon. She can be very mean to people sometimes."
" Okay. Is there anything else you want me to know, curator?
" Yes. I'll need you to sign his birthday card. He's turning fifty so I bought him a Thing 1 and Thing 1 saying you're Thing 50, but you still have the charisma. So I'll stop by your house on Saturday."
" Saturday. Got it."
" And Ian."
" Yes."
" You still have five minutes on your lunch break."
" Thank you, sir."
XXX
I have a very poor place to live. I'm not a very tidy person. I have empty cans of soup in my living room, loads of dirty shirts in my hamper, and spaghetti on the floor. I'm a very messy person. I'm not use to living alone. It's my fault. No one else's fault, but mine. If I can't do something it's no one's fault but mine. Although, it's not my fault I can't afford ice. I looked like a complete mess. I was smelly because I haven't showered in days, didn't have any high collared shirts, and didn't own a belt. I guess you could say I'm lucky. Lucky that a loser like me could even find a job.
Dinosaurs never had to worry about how they smelled. All dinosaurs can track the scent of another dinosaur from the scent. When dinosaurs hunt they had to hide their scent behind trees or with strong smells. If we traveled one hundred million years ago we would be greeted by colossal animals with horns on their heads, beaks on their noses, and flying beasts bigger than hounds. Dinosaurs lived and evolved for over 160 million years until they became extinct. Some say they became extinct because an asteroid over 9 miles wide hit the Earth in the Gulf of Mexico. No one knows what really caused them to go extinct. A Nigersaurus may have been responsible for the dinosaur extinction. The largest dinosaur I read about was the Giganotosaurus. And unlike in Jurassic Park, there was no evidence that the dilophosaurus could spit venomous mucus.
I heard a honking sound outside. Could it be him? It was only eleven o' clock A.M. Another idea is the dinosaurs were frozen before the ice age and when they thawed they died. I walked out the door and saw the curator standing beside a cab. He actually ordered a cab? I guess a person could do anthing when they have so much money.
: Let's go," Mr. Canary hollered to me. " I don't want to be late."
I was so not dressed to be going to some rich persons party. But I couldn't excuse an invitation from Mr. Canary. I walked down the stairs wearing nothing but my pyjamas and walked into the cab. We drove away from my apartment and away we went to the party.
" You look like a ten year old boy," Canary said. He was mad at me. I could tell he was mad that I looked like a complete slob.
" I'm sorry, sir," I said as we drove away. " I tried to order a tuxedo, but there was nothing I could afford—"
" Relax. I knewn something like this would happen so I came prepared."
" You did?Where?"
" In the trunk. In my trunk there's a briefcase with a change of clothes for you. I asked the driver to park next to the drive through so you can change when we stop."
" Thank you, sir."
" Don't thank me. Just don't try to embarrass me when we get to the party. And remember not to touch the dog until the party is over or you'll get fur over your coat."
" Yes, sir."
It was a half an hour drive from my apartment to the party. I wonder why the curator didn't just bring his own car to the party. It would be an easier and less expensive way to get there. Maybe the curator just didn't have a car. Not everyone wants to get behind the well of a car—drunk drive into innocent people. I learned that people who try to follow drunk drivers are the most likely to get into an accident. Would there be any beer in this party.. My mouse salivated thinking about it.
I pulled out a pencil and a notepad from my pyjamas. Not only did I like to study dinosaurs, but I liked to draw them. My earlier work of a triceratops looked like a dog with three horns. I wasn't a very good artist before, but I practised a lot. In time I could draw dinosaur pictures so good I could put them in comic books or manga's. I use to spend a lot of time in my room before I went to college. My parents would fight all the time and it was unbearable to just stand there and listen to them—the only thing that kept me going was thinking one day I would change the world. I would dream sometimes that I was an old man who wrote books about people walking with dinosaurs. I never cared about the money, as imaginary as it was, just that I could be a respected palaeontologist. But not all dreams are meant to come true.
We arrived at the birthday party. Since it was April there was some snow left on the grass but none on the driveway. The driveway wasn't as full as I thought it would be. Then I saw the garage. It was big. Their house was three stories high with gargoyles aligned on the ledge. It seemed too big for a man with only three kids. I could hear the sound of barking coming from the front door. It was Chewy.
"Change here." My boss paid the taxi driver an extra five dollars to let me change. It was a very nice tuxedo. I wasn't going to let anything spill on it. As soon as the cab drove away Mr. Canary grabbed my hand. " You don't have to impress anyone if you can't eat with your mouse closed. A wise man once said you're only as good as your last meal."
" Was the person who said that an important man?"
" No. He was a beleaguering New Yorker."
Have you ever had the feeling you didn't want to be somewhere? Like being a Tyrannosaurus being a meal for a Spinosaurus. All these people were Compsognathus and their carnage. But instead of dino meat they were serving swish chess, cupcakes with swirl icing, Nanaimo bars, a vegetable/fruit trays, and little hog dogs with pastry around them. They were already lining up around a table and putting food on their plates.
One man benignly let me cut through him to help myself to a plate. The women were wizen. Their faces looked like the leather handbags they carried. Except for one woman. She had the face of a corn farmer with sun-dried hair. She had sun glasses over her eyes, a green jacket over her pink sweater. Her eyes were green.
" Ian." It was Mr. Canary. He was around two other men with hair as white as a Cryolophosaurus White Dinosaur. My plate was full with two hot dog thingies, broccoli, cupcake, and watermelon slices. I'm what the dinosaurs call a omnivore. I eat meat and vegetables, but they don't have any meat in this house. " This nice man has just been explaining to me the human ingenuity. Would you excuse us?"
Mr. Canary dragged me away from the old men. What was he going to tell me—I hope he wasn't mad because I did something wrong. If I did something wrong I would like to know what it was.
" I don't give a crap about anything these people say. Half of them aren't even related to me. They're just the parents and siblings of my brother's wife. I grow tired of having to deal with people and their stupid problems, which is why I want to retire. When I do retire, I want you to be the new curator of the museum."