Edits to Chapter 26:

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Bright floodlights illuminated the building, so we could see it in all its glory. Interesting architecture on that condo: Kind of an A-Frame thing going on in the front...

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...A bag of golf clubs, and some kind of screen where you practiced tee shots...And a Nintendo!

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More than a mile back, but when Cynthia got winded, she wasn't much better than Ms. McGillicuddy, so it gave me something more interesting to do than wait for her to finish resting. I had to tear up the Jeep's seats to get out again, and fight the door when it shut on me, but Cynthia had only moved a few yards from her last spot when I returned.

Oh, and it had turned dark, so I had to retrieve some flashlights from the trunk as well.

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Cynthia crept toward the pool table. "Mister Arnold? Is that you?"

The man slowly emerged from his hiding spot, eyes bulging, cue stick gripped like a baseball bat. No cigarette. I guess he'd put it out somewhere. "Miss...Yu, is it?...I'd move very slowly if I were you.

His eyes darted back and forth. "Look...off to the left of the door, there's a gun rack...You see that?"

I glanced that way. Impressive assortment of tranquilizer weaponry.

Cynthia rolled her eyes. "Ray, I mean, Mister Arnold...Chill! I got `em domesticated!"

"You?" the man scoffed. "You've barely got a college degree, and no docent experience. I wouldn't trust you to domesticate a goldfish!"

I waved to him. "Hi. Raptor with a human brain. Technically not domesticated, but we're friends."

Mr. Arnold squinted at me. "Damn! You're that one! I always knew you'd get out! I kept telling Hammond you needed like a straight jacket and a Hannibal Lecter mask..."

"Who's Hannibal Lecter?"

"Albert!" A little red haired figure came running out from a bedroom in an oversized Cadillacs and Dinosaurs shirt and camo leggings, throwing her arms around me.

I grinned at the man. "Still think I need a straight jacket and a mask?"

Mr. Arnold shifted the cue stick to one hand, but didn't drop it. "You got a mouth full of deadly lion's teeth, and a set of sharp, nasty disemboweling claws. Forgive me for not turning my back and getting you a beer." To the girl, he said, "Cass, get away from that raptor. You too, Miss Yu, unless—"

He couldn't finish the sentence. While he'd been talking, Buttface had brushed up against Cynthia's leg, rolled over, begged for a belly rub. And now Cynthia knelt beside her pet, honoring the request.

"How the hell did you learn how to domesticate those things?"

"You try letting a dinosaur drag you around on the floor and through shit for an hour and you'll probably get good at it too." She cast my little friend an apologetic glance. "Excuse my language."

Mr. Arnold waved the cue stick in Zelda's direction. "What about that one? Is she safe?"

Cynthia rubbed my girlfriend on the head. "Yeah. She's cool. We, uh...partied together."

The man scowled. "I want a typewritten account of everything that transpired at this so-called `party,' including an itemized list of any and all substances, controlled or otherwise, administered to our company owned dinosaurs."

"Dude, the park is closed. Have you seen the Visitor Center?"

"The park is closed when our investors say it is, Miss Yu."

Cynthia swallowed hard. "Sir, would you be mad at me if I said I was too shitfaced to remember all the items I fed the dinosaurs?"

Mr. Arnold took a deep breath. "I would say that you're fired, Miss Yu, but I'll have to run that by Human Resources. The fact that you're still living and breathing I find somewhat impressive."

"Thank you, sir...I think...Oh, and you know that IT guy? Dennis Nedry? We found his Jeep and glasses by the Dilophosaur enclosure. I'm pretty sure he's dead. A lot of dried blood in that Jeep."

Mr. Arnold swore under his breath. "What the (fudge) was he doing over there?"

"You got me, sir...So, uh, Mister Arnold...How did you get in here?"

"I was about to ask you the same damn thing!"

Cynthia told him about the key.

He sighed. "Hammond's always forgetting shit, so he left one of those plastic key rocks outside the door. The alarm code is Timmy's birthday."

I turned my head sideways to get a better look at his face, to check if he were lying. "I didn't know he cared about anything but this park."

Mr. Arnold laughed. "He doesn't. It's just a way to remind him to send the kid birthday presents."

Cynthia put her hands on her hips. "This is going to sound weird, but...have there ever been koalas on this island?"

Mr. Arnold gave her a look like he'd smelled a fart. "Are you high?"

"Uh, no. And it sounds like the answer to that question is also no."

"If you hear hoofbeats in South America, Miss Yu, think horse, not zebra." He shakily set the cue stick down, and with trembling fingers dug a cigarette out of his shirt pocket. He put it between his lips, but, after glancing at Cassie, did not light up.

The cigarette dropped from his mouth when he noticed that the girl had climbed onto my back.

"Gimme a ride."

"Seriously? No! I want to play Nintendo."

Cassie slapped my rump and squeezed her legs like she were spurring a horse. "C'mon. Just around the living room."

Groaning, I humored her, but after dodging all those obstacles, she begged me to take her out the sliding glass door in back, and we did a circuit around the pool and so forth.

"Daddy!" a voice called from the foliage.

Parasaurolophus language. I raised my eyebrow ridges. "Webby?"

My veggiesaurus baby raced up to me, ramming her head into my flank. I laughed and picked her up.

That's when I noticed the large, long necked shape in the dark.

A fin topped head moved into the illuminated area, revealing the weird mask-like birthmark. "She does nothing but cry for you. I am tired of hearing her whine. Runs Along Mountain Rockslide says you'll eat Webbigail. I had that thought myself, but after being with the young one for a few hours, I decided she annoyed me so much that I would have eaten her myself, had my teeth not been flat and square and designed for mashing plants. You must have incredible patience."

I chuckled. "Thank you."

"She is going to grow up a very confused dinosaur. I hope you're happy."

I smiled, cradling the infant in my arms. "I'm very happy, thank you...Did you teach her anything? I'm new to this whole parenting thing..."

Space Ace let out a heavy sigh. "Usual stuff. Stampeding and grazing. If you keep bottle feeding her, she'll never learn. Tried to teach her that teeth are only for plants, but she kept biting Scott on the butt."

I gave Webbigail a playful bounce. When herbivores eat a bunch of healthy food, it's almost pleasant when they break wind...Such as when Webby did so while I held her. "Well, thank you, Space Ace. I really appreciate your help and information."

"Any time." The large creature lumbered off into the fields somewhere.

Of course Cassie wanted to hold Webby now. No longer the center of attention, she climbed off me, rushing into the house with the little Parasaurolophus clutched to her chest like she were the mama.

Zelda ran out to meet me on the deck, licking me on the face. "We're a family again! Thank you for bringing Webby back!" She licked me again.

"I'm flattered, honey, but Webby brought herself back. I guess she's too much for them to handle. And get this: She's a biter."

She grinned and rubbed up against my neck.

We strolled back inside.

Cynthia now stood at the kitchen island, talking on a Satphone. She said a bunch of stuff in Korean, I'm not really sure if this is an accurate translation, but this is what Cynthia told me she said to her mom: "Really, mom. I'm fine. The storm was kind of crazy, and we had some...animals get loose, but I'm fine. I didn't get hurt or anything...I don't know when I'll be back...the situation is a little weird right now. I still want this job, but the boss guy has to talk to some people. I'll let you know what happens."

Mr. Arnold, who had been hovering over her shoulder as she spoke, now made `wrap it up' gestures.

"Um, the boss guy says I gotta go. Say annyong to Mike for me. Love you." She handed the phone to `Boss Guy' who immediately flipped through a red folder, dialing a number. "John Arnold. X-Ray Echo Echo Yankee Oscar Romeo Echo. I need to speak with Uncle Walt." He paused to listen. "Okay...what about Cousin Oscar?...What do you mean he's not there? Where is he?...Well, tell him It's Eeyore, and it's kinda mother-pumpkin important." He frowned and hung up.

I thought about rushing straight to the Nintendo, but I'd never played pool before.

At first, John got nervous when I asked, but after the first ten minutes, he was coaching me on how to make the shots and stuff. Zelda found it fascinating too, apparently, because she just held Webby and watched me instead of begging to fill our new nest with eggs.

"Guys..." Cynthia pointed to a wall of security cameras. "Bad news..."

I rushed to the monitor, squinted at the dark shapes.

My tail thumped the floor in excitement when I recognized them. "Actually, it's great news! Our babies are back!"

Edmund's cute little head popped up at the corner of the sliding glass door. Percy hopped around her, peering in at us.

Grinning, I rushed to open the door.

I guess John had been okay with that part, but the moment the children scampered into the condo, Felicity and Clouseau made an appearance. He took one look at them and used the Lord's name in vain.

Cynthia slowly retreated from the sliding door/kitchen area, giving me this look like I'd better come up with something clever, and fast.

Cassie, though, wanted to see the raptor babies. Cynthia grabbed the girl, holding her back.

"It's okay! They're our babysitters!"

"If-f you s-say so..." John stammered, reaching for a rifle.

Webby wiggled out of the little girl's arms, running up beside me to squeak at the younglings: "Hello, raptors."

"Hello, raptor-veggiesaurus," Percy answered. (By the way, `raptor-veggiesaurus' is an honorary title).

Webby stopped hiding behind my leg and played with them.

I'm proud to say that Percy and Edmund still considered her family, and did not try to eat her, though they play nibbled her a few times. It seemed I'd either taught them to accept her as one of their own, or maybe she still smelled strongly of raptor.

I grinned at Felicity. "Thank you for taking care of our babies. I really appreciate that."

"About that...I came here to tell you I'm keeping her. Little Edmund has spots...just like me. Plus I smelled her. Our scents are very similar."

I looked and smelled. Felicity did have a point. Still..."So, you made love to a male dinosaur in the research lab and laid an egg on a table? Then abandoned it?"

"Not...that I remember. Did you?"

"No. It's called adoption. You pick up a baby dinosaur that doesn't have a parent and raise it as your own."

"That is exactly what I did! At any rate, I still think she looks like me...You think the humans...?"

"You mean, artificially somehow?"

"...Yeah."

Such a horrible thought. A human, using some kind of device to force a dinosaur to bear an unwanted egg.

I stared at her, she stared at me, and we both shuddered.

Zelda, who had been listening in, misunderstood the conversation and licked Felicity on the cheek. "You are so brave. If you think Edmund is your baby, please keep her."

I and Zelda held claws anxiously as we looked from Percy to Clouseau and back again.

"Percy...doesn't look like you...Are you here for the same reason?"

Clouseau nodded. "She doesn't look a thing like you. But look at the streak running down her tail! And smell her too. Doesn't she remind you of Streaktail? Moriarty and I think so."

I raised an eyebrow ridge. "...And? No offense, but you're not Hastings. We have as much a right to this child as you do."

"Hastings was Moriarty's mate, and my sister! You shouldn't have—"

"It's okay," Zelda blurted. "I wouldn't have let you...`baby sit' Percy if I didn't trust you with her."

I gave my girlfriend a questioning look.

"Did you change your mind about giving me my own egg?"

I blushed. "N-no. That's...why we're here."

We gave the little raptors teary goodbye hugs, and their new parents respectful muzzle rubs.

"So..." I gestured to the fridge. "Hungry? There's probably some meat in there."

Both older raptors shook their heads. "We had Parasaurolophus before we came here."

I frowned. "Which one? Hopefully not the one with the funny mask thing."

"That one's too tough," Felicity muttered.

The expression on Clouseau's face resembled a person trying to remember the restaurant they recently ate at. "She was called...Struck by Falling Tree."

"That hardly seems sporting."

"No, no. That was her name."

Upon hearing this, Webby wailed. Odd response for a butt biter.

I picked her up and held her. "There there. Ummm..." What exactly do you say in this kind of situation? A Parasaurolophus is edible. "I'm sorry about Struck by Falling Tree. I bet you had a good time together, stampeding around, biting her on the arse...She'll be sorely missed."

Little Webby didn't like the joke.

"Okay, okay. So I heard there's like a heaven for puppies and stuff. Who knows, she might be up there, stampeding around and chewing on prehistoric ferns and cycads."

I bounced Webbigail, patted her on the back until she calmed down.

"I told you they wouldn't give our children back," Zelda whispered to me.

I gave her an apologetic glance.

To my guests, I said, "How did you get here, by the way?"

"We followed your scent. It kinda got confusing around the frilly dinosaur area, plus you were in that box thing with the wheels, but we figured it out."

"And...the massive wooden gate?"

That earned me a blank look. "What gate?"

"Ummm...how did you get past al those walls and electric fences?"

"You mean those sparky cord things? Sharp Tooth smashed a big hole through one of them."

"You mean Rexy?"

"Yeah. That's how we followed her out to the beach, when she swam away, thanks to you."

"Waded, you mean. She can't actually swim."

"Yes. Waded."

"Wow. Okay." I gestured to Hammond's fancy pad. "If you like, we got a pool table and a golf thing. I can show you the pinball machines and Pac-Man if you want, or we can watch a movie..."

Felicity and Clouseau only looked annoyed. "We're not into human things. Zorro and Moriarty are waiting outside. We just wanted to let you know Percy and Edmund are being cared for and you don't have to worry about them."

That...kinda sorta felt like a slap to the face, but..."Hey, I get it. If you don't like human things, you don't like human things. I appreciate you stopping by at all. Nice to see you."

I politely let them out the back door.

John had been white knuckling a rifle this whole time, but now blew out a sigh of relief, setting the gun back in the rack. "So...what was that all about?"

I opened my mouth to speak, but Cynthia spoke first. "Dinosaurs don't have adoption papers."

He pulled out his cigarette, frowned at Cassie, put the cigarette back in his pocket. I could tell he was dying for a cigarette, but didn't want to literally die for a cigarette.

Webbigail squirmed in my arms, apparently still a little anxious herself.

"Hey, I know something that'll take your mind off things for awhile..."

The place had a cool collection of Nintendo games. I flipped through a box of cartridges in plastic sleeves, examining the labels. "I had no idea Mister Hammond was such an avid gamer!"

"He's not." John had his unlit cigarette held between his lips now, about ready to chew out the nicotine. "Tim and Lex hang out here all the time. Those are their games."

"Well, Tim and Lex are cool."

I scowled. Someone had left Zelda 2 in the machine. "Cool-ish." I threw it across the room, picked up a cartridge with a swirling gold logo so beautiful that you couldn't read it.

I popped it into the loading tray, pushed power, and found myself greeted by The Magic of Scheherazade! I didn't even know how to pronounce the name, but I swear they must have somehow hired Phillip Glass or Mozart to write the musical score. Not much space to type in your character's name, I could only write ALBE, but the ability to choose job titles, the time warp back to ancient Arabia drew me right in...

I grinned at Zelda. "This is the most awesome game ever! I should have named you...Shezzerade!"

Zelda tore the Nintendo out of Hammond's entertainment center and dunked it through the sliding glass door.

Into the swimming pool.

Cassie clapped and said, "Opa!"

Zelda, though, looked ready to kill me. "Give me a baby now!"

Slightly miffed about the destruction of an amazing game, but again I found it kinda hot. I gulped, eyes darting back and forth at my companions. "Honey, we're not exactly alone..."

"I don't care, you've made me wait long enough!"

"Fair...point! Ummm..."

Her eyes narrowed. "I'm starting to feel like you don't enjoy the company of female dinosaurs."

"No no! I do! I do! Uh...it's just..."

Zelda wrestled me to the floor, licked me, rubbed her cloaca against me...

I pushed her back. "Wait! This isn't right. I...need to ask Cynthia."

My girlfriend's face appeared to turn red. "You have to ask a human to copulate with me? What kind of dinosaur are you?"

"A proper one. We're sharing a nest with her. It's a human shared nest ritual."

Zelda sighed. "Fine, fine. Go ahead and get your permission. You are a weird raptor, Albert. I'm starting to wonder why I fell in love with you."

I clutched her claw. "Please don't fall out of love with me! I only seek permission to mate in a shared nest, to avoid awkwardness later."

On sitcoms, country guys will take off their hat and hold it to their chest when they're `courtin' a lady' or `gettin' hitched.' It seemed appropriately reverent and respectful, so I took a Crocodile Dundee hat off the wall and did the same thing as I approached my human friend (I guess I could have asked her boss, but, well, I was too afraid he'd say no). The woman grinned and stared at me like she expected a punch line.

"Cynthia, Zelda and I wish to mate. As in breeding."

She didn't react. "Okay."

"Like, now."

Cynthia blinked several times. "What, now? Like right here in this house?"

My face had never been this red. "Is...that a problem?"

She glanced at John, but he only shrugged like `Don't ask me.' "Oh no! I think it's great. In fact, let me get the camera."

She brought out a bulky camcorder, plugged it in, set it up on a tripod.

Mr. Arnold grimaced. "Is this going to make a mess?"

"Probably."

"Hell, it's not my house! Hammond's the one that made all these dinosaurs. It'd serve him right!"

I frowned, but felt too nervous to argue about who my creator was at the moment.

Cynthia got behind the camera, pushing the `REC' button. "Okay, go ahead."

So...actually now my face had never been this red. Or hot. "What, like some kind of heathen?"

"Albert," she groaned. "You just said you were going to...mate with her. Did you change your mind?"

Zelda made a noise that implied `I want to hear that answer myself!'

"N-no, but I want this to be special. I want us to be married."

Cynthia smacked her forehead. "Albert, I already told you I'm not ordained, and we don't have a ship's captain or a reverend handy!"

"What do you suggest, that I and Zelda just...live in sin?"

The woman looked at me like I were mentally disturbed. "Albert, I don't know if you got a choice. You probably aren't going to leave the island anytime soon."

"What if two Christians are on a desert island, and they have no pastor, and they need to get married?"

"Wouldn't that be like some kind of common law situation? It's not like they have anyone to cheat with, except maybe a gorilla or something..."

John smirked. "Adam and Eve didn't have a minister."

"True...But we're like, in the modern times."

"Maybe...you should talk about this with your...radio preacher."

I paused and thought a moment. "That's...actually a good idea!" I picked up the Satphone, dialing the station's number.

The same receptionist answered. "Bueno. Ministerio Montaña Del Fuego.

"Sí, quiero hablar con Padre Santiago, por favor."

The moment she heard me speak, she hung up.

Cassie (with Webbigail in her arms again) had been listening in. "I think it's your scary voice."

"How about you call them?"

"I don't know Spanish."

"I'll put it on speaker. Just tell me what they say, and I'll tell you how to answer."

We actually did try that. I don't know what they thought, maybe that Cassie had become possessed, coached by a demon with a scary voice. They hung up quick.

Cynthia sighed and shook her head. "Fine. I know Spanish. I'll do it."

I took it off speaker, dialed the number for her, and handed it over quick.

"¿Bueno?" Cynthia listened for a moment.

Okay, so there's a lot of Spanish after this, so I'll spare you from thumbing through a dictionary:

"No, this isn't a prank call. Honest...I definitely have no connection to the giant scaly chicken that called you a few minutes ago (which incidentally would in no way be considered a dinosaur)...no, it's weird, maybe it's your phone...Look, we're stuck on a faraway island...It's a Satphone. You know what those are? ¿Como se dice Satphone?...Uh-huh. Anyway, my friends want to get married...Right now, or else they will commit great sin." (I coached Cynthia on that last bit). "Yes, they're both Christians...No, no, I don't think that's a good idea...tonight. The...sea is really choppy, and you know all the storms and sh-stuff, you might crash your airplane or chopper or whatever..."

"Cynthia!" I cried. "What are you doing? We need him here!"

She muted the phone. "No! It's too dangerous! What if he lands here and gets eaten or trampled or something?"

Dejected, I bowed my head. I only wanted to honor the Great Raptor Above by doing what is honorable with my body, and Zelda's..."Then what do you suggest I do?"

Cynthia took the phone off mute. "Sí, lo siento, I'm still here. I'm trying to get some information from my friend."

I and Cynthia stared at each other, at a loss for what to do.

John snickered, leaning on a counter. "I'm just spitballin' here, but I saw this episode of MASH where they performed a Jewish Bris by radio. The rabbi was on a boat, and they repeated what the guy said..."

I grinned. "Mr. Arnold, you're a genius!"

He leaned back. "Naw, I was just thinking about how, after all this running around and nearly getting my ass ripped apart by Velociraptors, I need a good laugh."

Cynthia giggled, took the Satphone off mute. "Hey, is there any way for you guys to preside over the wedding...remotely?...Yeah, yeah, just like that episode of MASH..."

She listened a minute, then clapped her hands. "They're going to do it!"

I gaped at her. "They will?"

"Yeah, he's going to hand the phone to some guy named Jorge, and he's giving us ten minutes to get ready...or maybe it was the other way around."

First official dinosaur wedding ever. Whatever I did would set the precedent for all dinosaur weddings to come. And I only had ten minutes.

Well, I figure it I had made it difficult to imitate, no other dinosaurs would want to get married, so...

"Cynthia, I don't have a ring...And rings are made for human fingers anyway...That being said, humans make a big deal about getting a wedding ring."

She stared at the ceiling, lost in thought. "Yeah, I mean, a rock means commitment, because they're expensive..."

Mr. Arnold plopped down in an armchair. "Plus it gives the woman something big to pawn off when she's broke, or divorced. They like that."

"I...don't think Zelda cares too much about that."

"Then she's the first female in history that doesn't."

Cynthia glanced anxiously at the Satphone. "A ring is also something that you wear all the time. A couple of my friends got tattoos..."

John scoffed. "Good luck finding a tattoo gun in here!"

"Some people wear necklaces..."

Cassie grabbed a flowery lei from Hammond's wall. "You think this will work? I heard people in Hawaii get married with them."

I stared at the artificial flowers. "I guess we could do that...But a ring seems more permanent."

"They're not real flowers, though."

"What happens if Zelda crawls under a bush and loses them?"

"Hmmm..."

Mr. Arnold leaned over an end table. "Hey, how about these rubber washers?" He showed them to me. Black, fairly thick and durable. "People sometimes get silicone rings when they're allergic to metals. These ones are some kind of plumbing supply, probably goes into a vacuum cleaner or toilet or something, but they're brand new."

I frowned. "I...guess a ring is a ring."

The man took one look at the back entrance and swore, rushing to the gun rack.

Felicity had returned. She peered with curiosity through the sliding glass door. "What's going on here? I heard the window breaking, and something flew into the pool. Are you having relationship problems?"

"Yes," Zelda groaned. "He wants to do something weird before he sexes me."

I grinned. "Quite the opposite, actually! I and Zelda are getting married!"

"That sounds very stressful."

Cynthia chuckled, crossing her arms. "They haven't even begun stressful yet."

John's eyes bugged out in shock. "Miss Yu! Did I just hear you communicating with a Velociraptor...In Velociraptor?"

"Sorry, sir. Zelda here doesn't know how to speak English."

"No, no! Don't apologize! You may have just saved your job!"

Cynthia looked just about ready to dance for joy. "Really?"

Mr. Arnold's face became unreadable. "We'll need to review your employment with HR. There's still the matter of the administration of illicit substances, and a few other disciplinary items, such as your frequent tardiness and your little dips into Petty Cash that need to be accounted for."

Fortunately (or unfortunately, depending on your perspective), the bridge's whole family had already been hanging out around the building (and Struck by Falling Tree's carcass). Attracted by the sound of smashing glass, they all now stood on the back deck.

"Great! You're here just in time for the wedding! I needed some bridesmaids!" I grinned at John. "And you can be my best man!"

I explained the concept to the other raptors. They scoffed and called me a weirdo, but stayed to watch. I think they secretly enjoyed our eccentricities.

The man wiped nervous sweat from his face. "You have got to be joking. They're just going to...witness the ceremony?"

"Raptors are very curious creatures!" I approached the broken door. "Hey, weddings are supposed to have witnesses..."

"Just the same, I'd prefer they'd stayed outside and watched from there."

Despite my best arguments, he flatly refused to let them in (for safety reasons), but agreed to let them observe through what remained of the glass doors. I suppose they do similar things at Federal prisons.

Cassie volunteered to be the flower girl. We didn't have actual flowers, but a basket of potpourri, leaves from the yard, and bay leaves from the kitchen seemed appropriate.

Cynthia couldn't find a record or CD or tape with bridal music on it. Well, except Billy Idol's White Wedding. She grabbed some other LP's instead.

She moved the camera into position. "Okay, everyone get ready!"

For processional music, Cynthia put on Somewhere Over the Rainbow by Israel Kamakawiwo'le. Buttface did somehow know how to toot the bridal march through her nasal crest, but she could only do a couple bars, and then she'd mess up and pipe the Imperial March from Star Wars, so we told her to wait until the reception party.

We had to coach Zelda on how to properly process, but it wouldn't have worked that well anyway, because she had no father to walk her down the aisle, and her relations had to stay on the other side of the door. Cassie eventually abandoned her fixation with throwing around potpourri to help Zelda march the right way. (Incidentally, we came to the decision about the Samoan ukulele music at the same time).

Webby tried to be the flower girl, but she got confused and walked behind Cassie while they were processing and just dumped the basket on the floor.

Cynthia unmuted the phone, repeating what Jorge told her: "Queridos hermanos, estamos reunidos aquí para unir a estas dos personas..." She covered the phone with her hand. "Dude! You don't have a last name!"

I shrugged. "Uh...raptor?"

She snickered. "And what about your girlfriend?"

"She's April Zelda." Cynthia giggled. "I am so going to hell for this!" She uncovered the receiver. "...Albert Raptor y Abril Zelda en santo matrimonio..."

I'll skip the rest of the words, as it's pretty much your standard vows and stuff.

Oh, and I had to translate all of the words into raptorese for Zelda and my `brethren' on the deck. It mostly puzzled them, but Zelda and Felicity got a little teary eyed.

Zelda seemed confused but pleased when I decorated her claw with a rubber washer...And her neck with a lei.

I "kissed the bride." Osculation is a little...challenging for dinosaurs. We actually do have lips, you know, but in the arena of hanky panky, it's a little weird. Like dogs, we growl and gnaw on each other's mouths.

This concluded our Satphone session, and, I thought, the ceremony.

Zelda tackled me to the floor, rubbing her cloaca up against mine.

Relax, nothing happened. Before we could properly consummate, Cynthia cried, "Whoa! really? You guys just got married. You sure you just want to cut to the chase?"

Both I and Zelda cast her annoyed glances, frustration clear on our faces.

She raised her hands like she thought we'd kill her or something. "Hey, it's your call, but a wedding generally involves a party, and a bachelor party, and a bachelorette party. I don't have any way to get you a cake, but we got a sweet record collection. I can be the deejay, and we can have a little party."

I quickly jumped to my feet, wagging my tail.

"What now?" Zelda grumbled.

"There's a wedding party. Didn't you want me to dance for you?"

"I thought you would never ask!"

Cynthia plopped a random record on the turntable:

"Dominique nique nique s'en allat tout simplement routier puvre et chantat en tous chemins, et tous il ne parleque bon dieu..."

"Could you please play anything else?" John cried. "Anything, please! No French Canadian Nuns!"

Cynthia put on a Moody Blues album. Not sure he liked that one much better.

When Just a Singer came on, I worked my mojo on Zelda. We danced to other records, Wovoka by Redbone, ABBA's Eagle Serenade, Stop this Game by Cheap Trick...

She switched it to a slow song on a different record, and attempted a couple's dance I saw in a movie.

No, it wasn't Time After Time. We danced to Died in Your Arms by Cutting Crew, Careless Whisper and some other soft rock hits.

Zelda got a little offended when Cynthia cut in, but I explained it was customary in weddings, and she had no intention of making eggs with me.

"She'd better not, I'd kill her."

Cassie danced with Zelda, on account of the other raptors being outside, and John absolutely refusing to participate (though he clearly enjoyed the spectacle).

Okay, no hotel or champagne. Hammond actually had bottles of the stuff, but John forbade me from drinking any. You know, contamination risk. Instead, Cynthia awkwardly shared the bubbly with her boss.

Buttface, being a disobedient sort, managed to sample Cynthia's drink before she could stop her.

Zelda again chewed on my mouth, shoved me on the floor, rubbing against my cloaca.

Cynthia raised her glass in the air. "Whoo!" She rushed to the camera, swung it around to get a good recording of the act.

Not...used to an audience (honestly, not used to being this super close to any dinosaur, and having her watch me). I cast an uncomfortable glance at John. "Ummm...Mister Arnold? Would you mind stepping out? It feels a little creepy with you watching."

The man looked offended. "Hey, I don't go to raptor clubs. This is just a documentary thing like Wild Kingdom."

Cynthia, though, kept giving the little girl disapproving glances. "Hey, uh, I think it's past Cassie's bedtime anyway. Would you mind...?"

John rolled his eyes, taking Cassie's hand. "You'd better be recording this with the lens cover removed."

"Sir, I'm not a total idiot. I know how a camera works."

"Go to it, then. I'm going to be mad if I just see a recording of Hammond's carpet."

Cassie pulled away from him. "I'm not tired. I want to watch them wrestle."

"Uh, Cass? This kind of wrestling you probably shouldn't see until you're older."

"I'm almost twelve."

John chuckled. "I bet you are. But I still think you should wait until your folks give you that talk about where babies come from. C'mon, let's go fishing."

"I wanna see them make a baby."

"I'm sure you do. I admit, kinda curious myself, but that's not for your delicate eyes. C'mon, you gotta check out the fancy sh...stuff this guy's got on his boat."

At this point, Zelda and I were just cuddling, Zelda impatiently watching me and the humans for the okay. I sat up, talking around...Mrs. Raptor's neck. "Hey, I, uh, appreciate the gesture, but are you sure it's safe enough out there to fish?"

Mr. Arnold scoffed. "You mean you suddenly don't trust your friends?" He opened a door next to an Earthshaker pinball machine. "Neither do I. You should see this pontoon boat: Tranq cannons, dinosaur resistant panels you can drop down the sides, electronic fish finders, a thing you can slide back to fish through the floor...Oh, and the dock is pretty cool too. It's like a watery garage. We'll be out on the ocean before those raptors know where to look...They can't swim, can they?"

"Not...that I'm aware of."

The two marched down a staircase back there.

Webbigail seemed to have grown attached to my little friend, so when they left, she left.

Zelda got a little worried at first, chirping, "You sure you'll be okay?"

Webby replied in Parasaurolophus talk, "I'll be find, mom. You let me run with the herd and I came back okay. I trust Cassie. Good luck on the egg making."

Mrs. Raptor made the `I love you' chirp. "Be careful."

Mr. Arnold closed the door.

I didn't hear the grinding of any motorized garage door opener. I suppose stealth had been of the essence.

This isn't a dinosaur Harlequin Romance story or anything like that, so I'm not going to go into all the steamy details of us making an egg for the first time. I'll just say that neither one of us knew what we were doing at first, but we kinda figured it out.

By the way, besides Cynthia and her camera, still had an audience. I mean, males are a rarity, right?

And, of course, I had Buttface observing the proceedings, but at some point she found it more entertaining to rub her cloaca against a couch.

If you want all the graphic details in VHS format, send $14.95 plus shipping to Dinosaurs Gone Wild, C/O Cynthia Yu, P.O. Box..., Rancho Cucamonga, CA. 8X10 glossies $8.50, please indicate if you want duplicates.

A few hours later, John and Cassie returned from their little fishing trip, unharmed.

"Wow, if that doesn't beat all," Mr. Arnold remarked as he lugged in an ice chest. "I use Hammond's eight hundred dollar rod and reel, catch nothing, and you just drop in that yellow rope and land that huge bass!"

When Cassie entered the house, she held a whiting by that yellow rope, proudly waving it at him. "And this!"

"You know what, you're a little showoff, that's what you are! I ain't taking you fishing again!" by his tone and the girl's smile, I could tell he'd only been teasing.

By this time, Cynthia had tired of watching me and my wife, as we had...completed our union, and now merely cuddled in each other's arms, growling sweet nothings to each other. Likewise, the other raptors had jealously lost interest and wandered off somewhere.

John frowned at our `documentary filmmaker.' "Is...honeymoon night over, or will they be going at it again in a minute?"

Cynthia's eyelids drooped as she slouched in her armchair. "Not exactly earth shattering material, but, you know, it's still great to have a live recording of how dinosaurs breed. I've got it on pause right now." She rested her chin in a palm and blew a raspberry. "And I'm still single."

Her boss snorted in amusement. "Talk to me after your first divorce."

She cast me a nervous glance. "Oops! Little eyes probably shouldn't see that cloacal contact." She threw a crochet blanket over us.

The clock said 2 AM when I dozed off. I woke up around seven, crept out the sliding back door to practice that crane move I saw on The Karate Kid. I had to do it, I mean, the deck kinda reminded me of Mr. Miyagi's place, the sun was just barely rising, and I found a sturdy log to perch upon...

I did a chicken kick, practiced a few moves, fished the Nintendo out of the pool with a net, laid it out on the deck to dry.

I found a skateboard by the door, tried my claw at riding it and doing a few tricks, but mostly fell on my butt

...And the pool. I called it quits when I fell in there. I nearly drowned, had to pop a dinosaur innertube and an inflatable pool lounger and grab a couple foam noodles to escape.

Some beach towels had been left out on the deck chairs, but of course the previous night's rain had turned them into soggy wash cloths, so I shook myself off and dripped water on the carpet when I came in.

Nobody awake. Mr. Arnold had found a case of premium German beer and some other alcoholic beverages, sharing them with Cynthia, and now he lay passed out on the couch, Cynthia drooling in the armchair, the boss-employee thing clearly putting an awkward distance between them.

Cassie, for the moment, appeared to be in bed. My semi-conscious mind had earlier picked up something about her brushing her teeth and going into the other room, as well as a checking of the closets and bed for lurking night time monsters and dinosaurs.

I'd also heard, sometime in the night, the sound of Mr. Arnold scrubbing the couch and spraying it with Lysol.

I found a cookbook, started an experiment in the kitchen. Since it said to wait a half hour, I wandered the living room, drip-drying as I perused Hammond's fascinating book collection:

Edgar Rice Burroughs' Mars collection.

Stephen Hawking, Sagan and other science authors.

Isaac Asimov. Someone should have hidden his typewriter. It seemed his overinflated ego could not be limited to just one area of a given library or bookstore.

Time Life books on the supernatural.

The complete works of H.P. Lovecraft.

A collection of heavily read dinosaur books, larger than three encyclopedia sets, and a ton of children's books.

So I got their pages all wet and wrinkly.

He had a lot of framed awards and mentions from the news and magazines. Lots of stuff about the Ingen company.

I smiled as I looked at the framed photographs of Hammond and his wife, Tim and Lex...kinda cracked the glass on a wedding picture when I dropped it. Oopsie.

I probably shouldn't have played pinball. The loud clanging, the popping of the weighty silver ball against hardwood, and all the weird electronic sound effects drove Mr. Arnold absolutely up the wall.

He rolled over, pillow clamped over his ears. "Can't you see that people are trying to (fracking) sleep over here!" he practically screamed.

"Sorry!" I let the pinball drop between the flippers.

John, not satisfied with that, actually crawled beneath the machine to unplug it.

After banging his head on the way out, he scrunched up his nose. "What's...burning?"

The smoke alarm went off. Cynthia jumped out of her armchair, rubbing her head, cussing and squinting a lot due to a hangover. "Albert! What the hell!"

The two humans glared at me as I threw a black, smoldering pan full of burned food into the sink.

"Just like a little kid," John harrumphed.

When we heard the air raid siren, we all thought it was the smoke detector again, but then we heard the thocka-thocka sound of a helicopter.

Mr. Arnold rushed to the window. "What the (fudge)?"

At this point, his eyes got big as saucers. He grabbed a red binder and rushed to the Satphone.

"John Arnold. X-Ray Echo Echo Yankee Oscar Romeo Echo. I need Cousin Oscar."

I guess Cousin Oscar must have answered.

"Okay...what's our status?"

Sweat suddenly broke out on his face. "Whoa, whoa! Call off the air strike! Call it off! Civilians!...Look, give us some time to evacuate, that's all I (frakkin) ask!...Cynthia Yu. An intern. Hospitality. Oh, and Cassie Muldoon, she's the daughter of our—Well won't you tell me what the (fudge) you know and what you don't, so we don't waste any more time!" He glanced at the `civilian.' "You want to talk to her? Why?"

John handed the phone to her. "Be damn careful what you say, Miss Yu."

Cynthia held the phone to her ear. "Hello?...No no no! Don't drop the atomic bomb! I'm still here!...How the hell can you get one of those anyway?...Damn! So look, the T-Rex is on another island...C'mon, what did you want me to call it? Big Steve?...Fine, Big Steve is on another island!" She whispered something to Mr. Arnold. "Isla Sorna, but we got, um, assets running around, as well as a bunch of veggiesauruses that need fed, of course...Okay, cows. We've got one trapped in the upper floor of the Visitor Center..."

I shook my head, hissing, "She got out!"

"Oh, uh, scratch that one. I forgot she escaped during the power outage...Smart Cow? Like what, you made one that can do calculus or something?"

Confused, I and Mr. Arnold raised our eyebrow ridges.

"...No, haven't found any more civilians, except Mister Arnold and the girl, who incidentally I'm with right now. I think the others are evacuated or dead. I found a Jeep belonging to Mr. Dennis Nedry, but it looks like some...assets killed him...uh-huh...Like I said, Big Steve's on another island. It won't do any good to bomb this one...No, if cows could swim, they'd be with Steve. Don't you have a—" She frowned at the phone. "Hello? Hello?"

John redialed the number, and Cynthia explained the various (redacted) things she went through, handed the Satphone back to her boss.

The man listened for a minute, then breathed a heavy sigh of relief. "Whoo! Miss Yu, you just saved our lives and our investors upwards from eight billion dollars."

Cynthia stared. "I...did?"

"Yeah, I mean, the dinosaurs, plus all the equipment and buildings and fences, not o mention the expense of the atomic warhead itself..."

"So...sounds like I not only get to keep my job, I get a promotion."

Mr. Arnold forced a grin. "Not...quite. You see, there's a catch: Since you seem to have such a way with raptors, your services may be required when Capture Team arrives. Do a good job with that, and you may possibly be eligible for promotion...maybe."

The chopper sounds died away.

Cassie padded up to us, rubbing her eyes. "What's going on?"

Cynthia took a deep breath, exchanged glances with her boss. "Uh, nothing, sweetie. Would you like breakfast?"

The adults had coffee. Cynthia showed me how to make pancakes.

Arnold didn't like the idea of me and Zelda eating "carbs," but didn't like the idea of being close to hungry raptors either, so he decided to give us some anyway, plus the large fish Cassie caught.

I and Zelda ate by the TV. The storm had knocked the satellite out of commission, but we could get a local channel. I watched Xuxa and some Spanish sitcom where a woman walks around in a t-shirt and underwear all the time.

We ate all the fish, by the way, plus four big steaks from the freezer chest. The humans had to eat scrambled eggs and bacon.

We went out fishing after that, you know, to delay the need to hurry back to the Visitor Center for supplies.

Mr. Arnold hadn't been joking about that boat. Kind of a yacht-like thing with giant aluminum `toons.' It had luxury waterproof couches, refrigerators, and a little place you could go downstairs for a nap and eat, plus all those things previously mentioned. You could pull down some steel shutters to keep dinosaurs out.

I found the `garage' equally fascinating. Indeed, you descended the staircase on a dock. Grating on the sides, and below, where the water is, keeping unwanted marine life out. You could also push a button and open a hatch if you wanted to do some basement fishing. It had been built like the `houses' they make for roller coasters, a long narrow portion leading outside.

All three humans boarded, Cassie carrying Webbigail into the boat with her.

I tried to coax Zelda into the boat, but she stubbornly refused. "I'm not getting on that death trap."

I jumped up on down on the deck to demonstrate how safe it was, but it didn't help. The boat shook too much.

I sighed and licked her face. "We'll be back in a few hours, honey."

She made the `I love you' sound, scampering upstairs.

Mr. Arnold watched nervously. "Wait, not that I'm complaining, but she's not going to trash the place, is she?"

Cynthia put a hand on her hip. "They're not exactly housebroken."

I disembarked. "I'll open the back door."

John fumbled for his cigarettes again. "Well, make sure to close this one, at least! I don't want any surprises when I get back!"

I opened the sliding back door, rushed back to the boat.

Mr. Arnold cleared his throat.

"Oh right." So the basement did get closed. And locked.

John pulled down the metal shutters, and the boat rumbled down the relatively narrower passageway.

Cassie found a scarf and sunglasses below deck, decorating me with the items while Mr. Arnold manually opened the overhead door. I did look rather smart and fashionable, if I do say so myself.

We puttered out into the ocean (not as far as it sounds. As previously mentioned, the house was right on the shore). Safely out of reach of my kin, John raised the boat's armor plates to allow for the sea air and magnificent view.

I didn't need glasses to see Zelda running out to watch us. We chirped I love you across the water, waved our claws.

"Oh brother," John groaned. "Are you two trying to make me gag?"

Just Zelda over there. Not sure where the other raptors had gotten to.

We motored out further, and I got a fishing lesson. Zelda kept watching me from afar, lying down on the deck, tail slapping the boards when our eyes met.

Do you think it's weird that I found it kinda sexy when she got bored and chewed on the plastic deck chairs?...Okay, maybe it's just me.

Mr. Arnold remarked that Cassie might have a future career as a fisher-person, as she'd hauled in a good pile of aquatic lifeforms at this point...like crab.

I found some binoculars onboard, which would have been fun if I actually had binocular vision. I did manage to peer through one lens and get a pretty good look at the mountains, the pterodactyls and seagulls (read: pterodactyl snacks) flying overhead...And Mrs. Raptor (as we'd gone a fair distance from shore by then).

Webby found the binoculars as fascinating as I did, but of course couldn't hold them right. I experimented with various methods of holding her and the binoculars at the same time, but didn't get much out of them, and ended up chewing on the eyepiece.

I put her down. "No more binoculars for you."

Isla Sorna just happened to be a short skip across the pond, so to speak. I used the binoculars to take in the place.

Largely undeveloped jungle. No sight of `Big Steve' anywhere.

Was Rexy snacking on campers and lumberjacks? Wading up into South America somewhere and eating people there?...Well, unless she found wild game or something...

I spotted a large luxury yacht, parked along a beach near a lagoon. A rich couple picnicked on the white sand nearby.

Fancy spread. Fine China, silver, wine, a couple stern guys in Love Boat uniforms servicing their picnic table. The rich guy had his nose in a book, his female companion muttering something to him.

Ho hum...I swept down the beach with the binoculars.

Way around the bend, an eight year old blonde girl pranced along the sand, looking under shells and singing to herself.

I grinned. "Hey, Cassie! I found a playmate for you!"

As I watch the girl, the bushes at the edge of the beach rustle, and out came a teeny dinosaur.

The girl smiled and waved to them, offered it some Pepperidge Farm Goldfish crackers...like, gross, who actually eats those things?

"A playmate? What, like a dinosaur?" Cassie snatched the binoculars from me, leaning over the gunwale to get a better view.

The last thing I noticed before she took the binoculars from me: An entire pack of Teenysauruses emerging from the foliage.

(I know, I know, they're called Compsognathus, but I like my name better).

"Oh gosh! She's in trouble!" Cassie thrust the binoculars into my claws.

I stared through the eyepiece. Now two packs of Teenysaurus surrounded the girl. "You think we should help?"

The little girl screamed.

Cassie tucked a large fish scaling knife into the waistband of her jean shorts and jumped overboard.

Cynthia and John rushed to the side of the boat. "Cass!"