Here’s the deal. What’s so great about dinosaurs?
If they were so awesome, how come they couldn’t survive one little global extinction event?
Oh, look, a giant asteroid. Cry me a river.
Enough with all the books and movies and love songs about dinosaurs. Enough with the skeletons in the lobbies of science museums. How are dinosaurs science, anyway? Science is like atoms and Oxygen and stuff, not bones.
And we need to stop giving our children dinosaur toys to play with. Live in the past much?
Even their name is bad. Dinosaur means “terrible lizard.” And dinosaurs weren’t even lizards. Which does make them pretty terrible lizards, I guess. They were also terrible appliances and terrible polo shirts. Come to think of it, what were they good at? Roaring? Dangling their little tiny arms about? Oh, look at me, my arms are useless appendages. I can’t even high five. Not that I’ve ever done anything that would warrant a high five.
We’ve dedicated way too much time to studying these losers. Time that could be devoted to studying things that matter. Like curing post-nasal drip or developing a submarine that operates on land.
Stop distracting our scientists, dinosaurs.
Stop bragging about your three horns. Nobody ever said three horns were better than one and I don’t know why you assume you’re so freaking cool, Triceratops. Rhinos are plenty cool with just the one.
Stop leaving your footprints everywhere for us to discover. So what? We’ve got feet too. Only we don’t feel the need to show them off all the time. Ever heard of shoes, terrible lizards?
And guess what you evolved into? Birds. Yep. Birds. What’s up now, Mr. Ferocious? Flappity-flap. That’s right. Go take a worm to your nest, dino, your crappy little babies are hungry.
So, how am I going to do it? How will I teach dinosaurs a lesson they won’t soon forget? Don’t you worry your pretty little head about it. I’ll take care of this. Next time I run into a dinosaur, I’ll show him who’s boss.