Right, listen up, bugwits, ‘cos I’m only tellin’ this story once.
So I’m out wandering the jungle after the last o’ me mates keeled over from liverwurm, wonderin’ how I’m going t’get paid fer this, and I run into some silver-skinned fellow (Editor’s note: Christianus Smith) Can’t understand a word he says, but ’e’s not a giant lizard so we stick together a little while, and soon enough we end up runnin’ into a village of those scaly truadon bastards you get out here (Editor’s note: Arnod). Turns out there’s a few other explorers from the Federation out here, plus a couple o’ scalies who can speak proper, so we get to talking and next day I’m proper employed again. On the way we meet some elf, ’e’s got a map the boss says is worth good money when we get back to civilization, so I taps him on the head and we lighten ’is burden a little before we move on.
The next village down the river (Editor’s note: Sif) won’t let us in, keep jabberin’ about evil spirits. Our face-man talks to ’em a while and eventually gets them to send their chief or big man or ’oever out to talk, as long as we stand in the river while we talk. Lizards, right? Anyway eventually he agrees to join the Federation as long as we promise to go away and stop bothering me. Also ’e gives us a rock. Bugger if I know why.
Now the next stop (Nobok), that’s where the story gets good. See, we get there and the only thing their chief wants to talk about is ‘ow their neighbors blasphemed by killing a sacred monster or summat. Turns out the lot we just came from, they’ve been hunting tyrannosaurs, while this lot thinks they’re children of some god or other. So they want us to help punish the other lot. Only, we just got done talkin’ them into signing on with the Federation. Bit awkward to turn around an’ give ‘em a bloody nose, y’know? Me, I don’t think the Federation’d be missing it if we went and knocked the first bunch off the map, but nobody else likes the idea, the boss says we won’t get paid unless we get all the locals, and I guess I’d feel an idjit heading right back up the river to undo last week’s work. They made us spend an hour in the river.
So instead I says: look, boss, this lot is ticked off ‘cos they worship some bloody great lizard they think is a god, how about we convince them Mister Silver over there is a god? So Silver puts on a show, makes his eyes glow and starts spittin’ fire and whatnot, and we tell the head lizard this guy’s a better god than their Great Monster. He doesn’t quite buy it, says the Monster will devour them all if they stop worshipping, so we says, look, this Great Monster lives around here, right? We’ll kill it and prove the Silver Surfer is better. They don’t like it, but nobody’s man enough to try and stop us. Or lizard enough, I guess. Whatever.
So that’s what we do. We follow the big T-rex tracks up to a ridge a few miles off, see a few of the beasts on the way, lot of dead dinos. They don’t bother us. (The rexes don’t, I mean. I guess the dead ones dint either, ‘cept fer the smell.) We set up a few traps, pits and suchlike, ’cos none of us wants to fight this thing mano a monster. Then we look around the hills til we find a huge stinking cave with lots o’ dino footprints around. Now here’s what we do next: one of us climbs up above the cave and gets ready to push a bloody huge rock off as soon as the beastie comes out, another heads into the cave and sets up a big fire to smoke the beast out. Few minutes later we hear a big roar and the Great Monster charges out, fifty feet tall and on fire and roarin’ bloody murder. We drop the rock on him, pour some alcohol and suchlike, and after a minute it keels over. So we chop him up and haul the good bits back to the village.
Now, I can’t read lizard faces worth a damn, but I’d say there were pretty shocked. Their shaman fellow gives the Silver Surfer ‘is feather hat, there’s a feast, they agree to whatever we ask for.
Oh, and the tyrannosaur flambe was bloody good.
That’s the story.