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(Last time, on Thunderdome Arcade...) Cystia had never seen a battle like this. Sentinel and Hatter went to war with savage strikes and parries, searching for any weakness in their foe, any opportunity. The crowd was stunned when they both with zero hesitation resorted to using even children, not just as human shields but as actual blunt weapons. For the mods fought not just for recognition and personal victory, but for ancient ideals from a less civilized era. The inexhaustible power of the mods seemed for awhile like it might lead to another draw, for once again neither could seem to get a hand up over the other for long. It seemed entirely likely their audience would grow weary long before they could decisively settle this thing. But Fate had its own plans. Sentinel feinted with his spork at Hatter's precious hat, and when she raised a hand to protect it, he struck anew, stabbing her right in the strawberry pudding and sending the dessert glass spinning from her grasp. Hatter gasped. The crowd gasped. The glass tinkled into a thousand pieces on the ground. Sentinel grinned in triumph. But the pudding did not splatter. It merely plopped there, and quivered. And then it split in half. And split again. And again. Never seeming to grow any smaller, quite the opposite. Long ago, as Sentinel and Hatter SHOULD have remembered, ancient prophets had foretold in verse: When Sacred Spork in rapturous spell, Stirs fruity Pudding of Deepest Hell. Hark! For flanny doom doth knell. One might really think it was very irresponsible of Sent and Hatter to be holding such items of destructive power in such close proximity, stabbing and waving them at each other and stuff, but that's the mods of Cystia for you! And as the puddings hopped squelchily around the Penguinite's feet, rapidly multiplying, slowly growing, and trying to suction themselves onto his shins and dissolve his feathers, he fled the arena, screeching in abject horror, the whole swarm bouncing after him.

This was all a little strange even by Cystian standards. The crowd didn't know what to think, and there was some worry that this would lead to a pink goo scenario that would see the kingdom's crops, cars, and children devoured. And two of those things would be pretty bad! But behind Hatter, someone began to golf clap. "Just as I planned," Sherbet said, with a cool chuckle. Hatter whirled. "What? You did this? But why? The pudding was so innocent and sweet in its little glass, and now it may destroy the kingdom!"

Sherbet's laugh erupted from the shadowed recesses deep within his paper bag. "Good! I hate the innocent, and LOVE destroying things, because I'm PURE EVIL!" He punctuated this by casually biting into a raw onion, because he was also deranged. "And yes, it was I who chose your prompt, I orchestrated that whole battle. And now that Sent's out of the way, I need only--" Just then, there was a deafening rumble, and Mizal, the actual heroine of this tale who had successfully avoided most of the writing, burst through one of the arena walls, riding on a mighty triceratops. Dozens of other dinosaurs followed, many different species, screeching and roaring, a veritable herd of anachronistic improbability.

"NO! It can't be!" Sherbet shrieked. "You were already dealt with, the mole people--" "Hah! You thought the mole people could take me to the center of the Earth, and I wouldn't just befriend the dinosaurs there and escape! Rookie mistake, Sherb! And now MHD will save the kingdom, after I commend myself for announcing it! I had to write this fucking intro twice you know, I deserve to treat myself!" Mizal slipped out of the saddle and ran up to the announcer's podium. "People of Cystia! Welcome to Thunderdome: Thunderlizards Edition!" She gestured at the rampaging dinosaurs below. "The contestants will now have a fight involving dinosaurs!" "Ugh..." "But that's the stupidest prompt on the list..." Sherb and MHD both echoed each other in dismay, before reluctantly drawing their weapons. It was time to walk the dinosaur.

Story A: I stormed the coast, trampling tall grass, and other, shorter creatures beneath me. I ducked my head into the crystal water, gulping down gallons, and a couple fish. I pulled my head up, the water rushed off me. This brought a delight over me, so I roared. My roar made branches shiver, disturbed the fauna, echoed through the mountains and back at me. It warned others I was not to be trifled with. Even the long-necked aquatic monsters dove back beneath the water, disappearing into the cool darkness beneath the water's surface, startled by my presence. I lifted a foot. My steps were powerful. If my roar did not echo, then my feet surely did. I opened my wings, flicking the water off of them, then tucked them neatly beside me. Even with my feathers and wings, I could not fly, like some others, so my life was here on the ground. That was why my legs were so powerful. Nor was I as quick as the little ones that ran in packs, diving around and between my legs, chirping annoyingly. But my jaw was grand, and I could easily reach down and snap one into my mouth. Although only a dozen would make me feel full. Those that did feed me were like myself, albeit, smaller. other land monsters who, while quicker than I, could not outrun my sheer size. I would duck my head close to the ground and bare my teeth. I could grasp their tails, stopping them in their tracks. They roared at me, in anger or fear, but that did not deter me. I would tear them from their feet, drag them across ragged ground, wounding them in the process. I hated to fight - I rarely had to - so I would bite their necks, killing them instantly. That would satisfy me for a few days. Long enough for me to rest so I could do it again. ~~~ I supposed I was jealous of the others that dove down at me, soaring across the sky and perching in giant nests on the cliffs, gazing upon me as if they were not my prey. They had a sinister quality about them and sneering beaks. They knew they were safe in the skies. Safe from me, but also safe from the land. The land was victim to storms, floods, the hot lava of volcanoes, the freezing snow storms that made the smaller ones bury beneath the ground. We, the land dwellers, were victims to the land, and had to face whatever force of nature would consume us next, and that happened often in these tumultuous times. It seemed as if this land I walked was unsteady, as if it was still learning and growing. Sometimes it shifted, rumbled through the valleys, caused me to stumble. My feet were wide and heavy, but so was my body. My long tail tried to keep me steady. The following day, there would be a new crack on the surface, too wide for me to cross. I would find another way to the watering hole, until that crack became a watering hole all its own. I knew one thing, and that was I was the king of this land. Very rarely did another dare to cross my path. The only ones I knew were the winged ones that travelled in flocks. They would try to attack me. They would dive at my throat, slashing at me with their sharp teeth beneath long beaks. They would try to grab me with their razor talons. It would take many swings before they would even break my thick, scaley skin. I would turn my head at the perfect moment, grab one of them by the wing. It screeched and fought my grasp. I would shake my head, ripping its wing from the rest of it. It fell, struggled on the ground, crying for its flock. But its flock did not care but for their own safeties. They fled, suddenly understanding that they were no match for me, regardless of their numbers. I put the dying thing out of its misery. I was a merciful king like that. I gulped down the wing. ~~~ The days grew hotter and longer. My body was coated in sweat where my wings did not shield me from the sun. I would wave my wings to cool myself down. Now I rarely went far from the watering hole - even that grew drier by the day. I guarded it closely. My leisurely swimming turned into a watchful survival. I would roar at any creature who dared creep towards the pond. Sometimes I would eat it. The night was forgiving and encased the world in a chilled air. I looked forward to it now. As much as I liked the heat, it was quickly becoming overwhelming and uncomfortable. I began sleeping during the scorching dawn and hunting in the frigid dusk. I had no stamina otherwise. I wondered how long I could go on like this. I wondered if the world or myself would perish first. My hunger grew as others began to move to other, cooler places, or die. The grass began to rot away, leaving nothing but dust where it used to grow. That dust would then blow away, revealing rock and stone where nothing living could thrive. Those that fed off that grass, and the insects within that grass, disappeared. Those that fed off those creatures, disappeared. And myself, who fed on those creatures, well, would I disappear as well? I had little time to think about the philosophical. My stomach howled. I had no other thoughts now, other than eating. I could not wait until the night to hunt. I was starving. I had to move through the blazing heat of the day now. I lumbered along with labored breaths. I never felt the heat on my talons before, but now they felt as if they might melt. ~~~ The days I had always longed for. There was a solid structure above my head that shielded me from the sun. Although it was cooler nowadays than it ever had been. I could venture out now, without worry I would starve without food or roast in the sunlight to death. I could hunt with precision, the insects that crawled over my feet. My feet were strong. They were my prime hunting assets. If I did not use my pointed beak to snatch them unwittingly, then I could grab them between my talons. The latter worked well for small, furry mammals that occasionally crossed my path. Although I basked in the thrill of the hunt, the ground was always full of kernels. They were delicious, if sugary, and always plentiful. They made me sluggish and fat, forcing me to hunt less and less, relying on them more and more. A part of me wondered, is this the life I always dreamed of? I no longer had to worry about my survival, about eating or sleeping. My world, now limited by a wiry wall, protected me. At nights, I no longer had to hunt. I gulped the fresh water every day. Sometimes, on semi-warm days, I would even bathe. Sometimes, I would close my eyes, and not worry about a thing. I had never had this luxury before. There is a give and take in life. I knew there were predators above me now. Occasionally I would see them. But they did not want to hurt, or eat, me. In fact, I believe they solely replenished the kernels within my wire home. I was safe in a way I had never been before. The sun breached the horizon. I had an urge, a need. . . To roar.

Story B: “I have to say, Professor, this is… this is something else. You’ve really outdone yourself, this time.” You stare in complete awe at what is unfolding before your eyes- the projector sitting in the center of the round room is producing a total of three different holograms, neon blue and choppy at first, before becoming solid and distinctly colored in the air. A sea turtle, a hammerhead, and a koi. They look just like the real thing, swimming elegantly above the floor. “I’m glad to hear you say that, Daniel,” the man at your side says. You look down at him- the years haven’t treated him very well. He’s lost at least four inches in height, and just the strain of standing up a few minutes has his legs wobbling slightly beneath him. “I’ve been working on this for a very long time- you’re still the only one who’s seen it, so far.” Ronan Callaghan, an old professor of yours, and the person you’ve always considered to be the most brilliant in the world. His mind is a boundless field of new, eccentric thoughts and ideas, and this is no exception. This must be his most brilliant work yet… you’ve worked with these creatures for some years now, and everything about the light show is utterly perfect. The appearance, the movement patterns… the turtle and the koi even seem to be reactive to the hammerhead, keeping distant from the bulky-headed shark. “It’s… it’s fantastic. Might even put all the work I’ve done in the field to shame,” you laugh softly, scratching the back of your head. You extend your hand toward the koi, but it swims away… realistic, but you were hoping for your own little Disney Princess moment. “They’re practically the real thing, Daniel,” Callaghan replies with a smugness, a glimmer in his eye. “It is not just a hologram, it is a simulation. Behaviors, reactions… predators, prey… speed. Intelligence. These three are perfect… certainly, this is more interesting than anything Finley has you doing back in the states.” You keep your eyes on the hammerhead, as it seems to show interest in the sparkling, gilded koi. “Yeah. Nothing else compares, I mean… if these are really perfect simulations of animals… this might be one of the most important inventions… ever. It would make for one heck of a zoo, too,” you take a step back from the hammerhead as it eyes you, even though you haven’t a reason to worry. “One heck of a zoo…” he chortles weakly, taking a few steps toward the projector. “How is Finley, anyway?” “Oh, he’s great. I mean, the hours are killing us slowly, but if you love what you do… and get paid well for it, you never really work a day in your life, right?” you smile. “He’s been preparing for the big Hawaii trip. They’re not going to let him take those precious cigars on the plane, though, so I don’t know how he’s going to last six weeks.” “Hm. Curious, I recall that Finley quit smoking some months ago,” Callaghan remarks. You turn to look at him and see his bloodshot eyes staring daggers at you, as if you’ve just said something terrible to him. Eccentric. “Uh… right, sure. Sorry,” you clear your throat. “Is everything alright, professor? You don’t look like you’ve been getting much sleep.” “...hmm, my apologies, Daniel. It’s just been so much work… perfecting it all…” he sighs, rubbing at an eye with his hand, readjusting his thick glasses. “If you don’t mind me asking, how did this whole project start? You were working on something completely different when I graduated.” “I’ll tell you, but only because you’re my best student,” some of the light returns to Callaghan’s eyes as he takes another step toward the projector, resting his weary fingers on the keypad and punching in a few inputs. The hammerhead disappears, and then the koi, and then with some hesitation, the turtle. Callaghan doesn’t stop there, pressing a few more buttons, and then… another construct of that bright, neon light appears across the room. It’s blinding in its size compared to the last three, very tall with width to match. When it stabilizes, a new animal stands before you and your old professor- you realize it’s a long extinct one, a leathery-skinned dinosaur. “This is a pachycephalosaurus,” Callaghan states calmly and casually, sighing, evidently unsatisfied with this creation of his. “Note the round and bald top of the cranium, not unlike Finley,” he points out. “Spiky head. Herbivorous diet…” “Professor, that’s… that’s amazing!” you stare with wide eyes. “And is it really, you know… accurate?” “Hm. You asked me how this project started,” Callaghan sighs again, watching the head movements of the curious dinosaur. “It was with these, with dinosaurs. But I came to a terrible epiphany, Daniel.” “What’s that, Professor?” “No human will ever know what the dinosaurs looked like. No human will ever know exactly how they behaved. The best we can do is look at their bones, and make educated guesses. This, like all other depictions of this creature, is a bastardization. It is not accurate, it cannot be. We will never have a perfect simulation of a dinosaur.” You swallow, as the air in the room seems to change. He’s always been that way, capable of shifting to a deadly-serious voice in a second, changing the very atmosphere with his words and his tone. He is not a large or physically imposing man, but to an extent, he can be quite scary. “One day, at the rate this world is moving, many creatures will be lost to time. Those sharks will die out- those fish will die out. The turtles… they, too, will die out. When they go, what will be left of them? Bones? Drawings? Recreations in museums? Everything but the ability to… watch them, swimming through the water. Everything but their personality, their flair, their soul. Every child should see a turtle, at least once, don’t you agree? Don’t they deserve to live on in some way? The dinosaurs will never have that luxury, but I can create it for the beings of today.” The pachycephalosaurus takes a step toward you, and Callaghan immediately presses a button, causing the large creature to disappear. It was making you quite nervous- even though you know it’s just a mass of light and code simulating the creature, it’s something you’d rather observe from behind some glass… maybe that’s a little ungrateful, though. After all, you’re the only person on the planet that’s been allowed to experience this work of genius, this work of art. “It’s an unfortunate circumstance, but you’ve done something amazing with what’s available. I’m sure kids would love to be able to see their favorite dinosaurs up close, even if they’re not exact replicas,” you offer, stepping up beside him, staring down at the projector. “How many creatures do you have in your library?” “Let’s see… I have six perfected. Thirty-two works in progress. The dinosaurs are their own category, for I cannot call them either one,” he says, closing his eyes to rest them for a few moments. “Could I see? May I?” you ask, reaching toward the keypad. None of the keys are actually labeled, nor is there a screen to preview the simulations… has he really memorized every combination of inputs that well? “NO!” his voice suddenly booms, practically barking at you and causing you to flinch, your hand rising back up and away from the keypad before you’ve even had a chance to press a button. Callaghan is staring with that same eerie, bloodshot look, before taking a breath and calming down. “No- the technology is… rather sensitive, Daniel. Maybe some other time.” “Yes, sure…” you nod slowly, but you’re beginning to have some doubts. You’ve never known Professor Callaghan to be quite this… short tempered, even when at the point of such exhaustion. “I’m sorry, but I have to ask again, are you sure you’re alright? This project seems to be taking a toll on you.” “I’m looking forward to the night that I can get eight hours’ rest, Daniel, but that night may never come again,” Callaghan chuckles, turning away from the projector. “It only happens two, three times in a man’s life, Daniel. That project that he’s willing to pour every bit of himself into, even if it kills him, no matter the cost. But I’ve grown old- in two years, I’ve perfected only six species. I will be dead long before this project is complete… you are lucky and unlucky, Daniel. You never found that project that kept you up at night with excitement.” “Professor Callaghan…” you frown, pitying the old man. He wouldn’t want you to pity him, but it’s a heartbreaking scenario… all that passion, all that hard work, put toward an unimaginable piece of technology, and he would never get to see it complete. “Maybe if you had someone else working on it with you, the pace would be more… favorable. Someone to pass this technology down to.” “Interested?” the man smiles sadly, taking a step away from the projector, and his knee seems to buckle beneath him slightly. “Professor- let me get you a chair.” “No, don’t,” he orders you sternly, shaking his head as he stabilizes himself. “Daniel, it’s just like you to offer your help, but I’m afraid that just isn’t going to be possible.” “What? Why not?” you ask. “You have always been my best student, Daniel, but you… are not cut out for this. Besides, you have that work with Finley on the horizon.” “That’s nothing, compared to this… Professor, please, you have to give me a chance, this technology could change the-” you place a hand on his shoulder, but you don’t feel anything beneath your fingertips- your entire hand phases right through his coat and his flesh, as if you were a ghost passing through his physical form. The world seems to shatter around you. “...Daniel-” “No,” you say- you look toward the projector as things begin to click. The slight inconsistencies in your knowledge, his refusal to let you touch anything. “No, you… you couldn’t have… you wouldn’t-” “Daniel, it’s time for us to part ways again,” Callaghan says with a saddened sigh, stepping closer toward the machine. You move to push him away, but there’s nothing you can physically do to interfere. You cannot interact with him, or the projector- all you can do is make noise. “Stop- stop, just hold on, get away from it!” you plead. “Just stop for one second, please!” “This was inevitable, Daniel. I’m sorry,” he brings a hand toward the keypad, forearm passing through your stomach on the way. “If it is any consolation, you are the closest I’ve come to the real thing. I apologize for my behavior- animals, they aren’t so tricky… but with humans, there’s so many millions of little things… memories, those are the real chore… I’ve been working so tirelessly, I’m beginning to lose myself…” “What’s going to happen to me? What’s going to happen when you click those buttons?” you demand. Your mouth feels dry, and yet, you know for a fact that there was never any moisture there to begin with. “Stop, I’m not- I won’t remember-” “It’s alright. Just calm down. I am going to get you perfect, one of these times. You should feel honored- out of all my students, out of all my mentors, out of all my peers, it is you who I decided should represent us in this machine, Daniel.” “Please…” you whisper, hearing the first key input behind you. “I don’t… want to die…” you hiss. You have no recollection of any supposed past iterations of you- once he turns this simulation off, your consciousness will effectively cease to exist. “Please. I won’t- I won’t forgive you if you do this.” Callaghan pauses a moment, then smiles- it’s warm, but provides you no comfort. “You wouldn’t.” Click.

Will MHD save the kingdom, or will it be overtaken by PURE EVIL? What about PURE DINOS? What about PURE PUDDING? You must vote here to reach the thrilling conclusion!

As a Balkan, I agree.

I've gotta say Story A.

This is a tough one, really. These stories tackled the prompt in two different ways but executed well both times. I liked the unique perspective in Story A - it's realistic to (what I would imagine to be) the sentiments of a dinosaur, with just enough anthropomorphic sentiments to prevent the narrative from getting dull. With that being said, being that dedicated to the animal perspective does rob the protagonist of some agency, but it was an interesting story nonetheless. I felt sympathetic for our wordless protagonist, and I think the author's effort to convey such emotion in a realistic animal character is commendable. Story B had a bit more meat on its bones. It does deviate a bit from the dinosaur prompt, playing more in the world of science fiction regarding imitating living creatures. There are dinosaurs being simulated in the story, but they are intangible, not dissimilar to our unfortunate protagonist. I liked the dynamic between Daniel and Callaghan a lot, and the story did a fantastic job of communicating the complex emotions of both in their circumstance. I really did struggle trying to pick which one I would prefer, because in truth I equally enjoyed both of them. Keeping the prompt in mind, though, I think my final decision is Story A. An amazing job done by both authors nonetheless.