Chris Sykes's Blog: some bits and bobs - Posts Tagged "prison"

10

“I never thought it, I never once thought it. Me, Tim, a simple, wholesome, always doing the right-ish thing triceratops, in prison.” Tim paced around the small cell. “I can’t believe it. What have I ever done to those... those bugs?”

“To start with, Tim, you destroyed a few of their homes and then you rampaged through their city and killed a few of their people.” In the darkest corner of the cell Larry sat upright with his long tail curled around his feet. He looked like a large, bald cat, with an extremely long neck.

“People? Those things are not people.” Tim spat the words out. “Plus, they kidnapped me and beat me up. What did they expect?”

“I am sorry Tim but these bugs are our leaders and we must obey them, unless you want to get beaten again. I was mad to have done what I did and I won’t do it again.”

“You what? You won’t stop them? You want to be a slave to these... these creatures?”

“It is not that I want to be a slave and won’t stop them, it is that I am and that I cannot. I brought this on both of us. If I had just let you suffer then we would not be here. You would have learnt the ropes and settled down. We could have been left alone.”

“Left alone? Left alone? They won’t leave us alone. They kidnapped me. I was alone before they kidnapped me.” The red mist could even find its way into the prison cell, it seemed.

“Tim,” Larry said sternly, with his long neck bent forwards. He hoped the closeness would help Tim understand what he wanted to say. “We are but dinosaurs. What can we do? If they want us to be slaves, then we are slaves.”

“Yes, Larry, we are dinosaurs. They are bugs. It is not normal, don’t you see?” Even with Larry speaking so closely to him, he did not understand. How could he? He was from a different time, from a different world.

“Tim, I do not know where you have been but the bugs rule this world and we do not. You need to learn your place here otherwise they will hurt you. We must all get along.”

“That is rubbish, absolute rubbish. Never in my whole life have I heard so much rubbish,” Tim paused for a short breath. “You, my friend, should know that we are not slaves. We do not work for... for other creatures, let alone bugs. Argh, it is all that time machine’s fault. This is not where I wanted to go.”

“I cannot help you until you understand.” Larry curled his neck around his body and rested his chin on his back.

“I understand quite clearly. I fully comprehend the situation. You, on the other hand, do not.” Tim turned his back on Larry and stared at the bars of the prison cell. “These dumb bars,” he said rattling them with his horns, “they think they can hold me?” The bars were much stronger than the ones on the cage but Tim did not yet know that. The prison had been specially designed to hold troublesome dinosaurs.

It was not long until Larry heard the pitter-patter of an insect approaching. A dinosaur cannot usually hear an insect’s footsteps, not because insects make no sound but because dinosaurs were like certain old people that we all know and small things needed to make a lot of noise to be heard. The insect that Larry could hear, however, was not small. “Shut up Tim, they’re coming.” Larry’s eyes were wide with fear.

“Oh, they’re coming are they? They want more, do they?”

“Shut up. This is not the time to be picking fights. These bugs are dangerous.” Larry pleaded in a forced whisper.

“AT-TENNNN-TION.” A guard barged through the door expecting the dinosaurs to stand to attention. Larry promptly obliged but Tim was busy trying to push his enormous head through a small gap between the bars.

“I said, AT-TENNNN-TION, dino.” The prison guard yelled and hit Tim in the face with his truncheon.

“Ow, there was no need for that, bug.” Tim stepped backwards out of reach.

“Excuse me sir,” Larry interrupted, “but my friend is a little dozy today. He, er... is not himself.”

“Not myself? How, pray tell, am I supposed to be myself in here?” Tim said. His voice took on the pitch of a tightrope walking dog, competing in a screaming contest with rival howlers all the way across town, whilst wearing a bowtie that had been tied to tightly.

“I cannot help you Tim,” Larry whispered.

“Oh, well then, I guess I’m on my own then,” Tim whispered back with hatred. He did not like this Larry. “I don’t have Larry’s help. I’ve got to do this all by myself. The enormous dinosaur that could crush these bugs in seconds is scared,” Tim mocked.

The guard watched the two bickering, he was becoming quite annoyed and showed his annoyance by lashing out with his truncheon but he had not realised that Tim was out of reach.

“Please Tim, stop. He is getting annoyed with you,” Larry urged, “please, I cannot bear it.”

The prison guard was somewhat different to his fellow bug buddies above ground. He had a large, solid shell, an exoskeleton and his legs had jagged spikes for climbing and digging, and whatever else he fancied doing with them. That was not what made him stand out. The distinctive way he had of dealing with certain events is what made him very special. When he was scared, angry, or annoyed, like he was then, he had a not very delicate way of expressing his feelings. In a confined space, much like a prison cell, he could be the worst insect of them all to annoy. He was a stinkbug.

“Woooooow, dear me. That is bad,” Tim retched.

The guard sniggered.

“I told you,” Larry gagged.

Tim fell on his side and turned a pale green colour. Larry held his head as far away from the guard as possible, whilst Tim pawed desperately at his own nose but nothing they did could remove the stink from their nostrils. It was everywhere. Both dinosaurs squirmed around uncomfortably until the smell dispersed of its own accord.

“That stink came from you?” Tim asked incredulously.

“I told you Tim, please don’t annoy him.” Larry gulped deep breaths of cleaner air.

“Yes, that came from me and there is more of it too. So stand to attention and start obeying orders.” The guard winked at Larry, not in a friendly way but in an evil, knowing way.

Larry looked at the ground but remained in an upright and formal position. “Please Tim,” he urged through the side of his mouth.

“I don’t believe you,” Tim said to the guard. “I think it was Larry. He’s always making similar smells.”

“I do not.” Larry reddened around his cheeks.

“It was me,” the guard eagerly pointed out and lashed out at Tim with his truncheon. He had clearly forgotten that Tim was out of reach.

“I really don’t think a bug could make such a stink,” Tim continued.

“Shut it, Tim,” Larry shouted, “I can’t bear it if he does it again.”

But it was too late. The guard lifted one leg slightly off the ground and closed his eyes. When he lowered his leg again, his grin was as wide as his head. The stench drifted warmly through the confined prison cell. It floated up Larry’s nostrils and polluted his mind. His eyes watered and his head felt much lighter than it should have. The smell was horrendous, much more potent than before. It smelt like rancid, rotten eggs cooked in canned cabbage after being basted with sardine oil and bashed with a banana. The bug looked smug.

Although Larry’s head felt lighter to him, it must have been heavier because he could no longer keep it from hitting the floor. The rest of him quickly followed suit. Tim rolled his eyes. After spending years walking behind Larry, Tim was used to such stinks. Larry expelled gasses from his rear more frequently than he would ever like to admit. Because his head was so far away from his rear, Larry never noticed the smells that he created and so, he had never quite had the chance to become immune to them, unlike Tim.

“Ha,” Tim faced the bug.

“Enough,” the guard shouted and again lashed out at Tim and again he had forgotten that Tim was out of reach. Tim stuck his tongue out and blew a raspberry. The guard whacked the bars of the cell, he was furious.

Smells worse than anything ever smelt before polluted the dying air. A thick, dirty green cloud filled the cell. It singed the back of Tim’s throat and burnt in his lungs. The taste buds on his tongue wanted to commit suicide but because they were only taste buds, they did not have the option. They sat, helpless on his tongue. Grateful, only when Tim closed his mouth but any gratitude they had was short lived, because the smell drifted into his nostrils and entered his mouth from the back of his throat. Tim felt ill but shrugged his shoulders at the guard as if it was nothing to him.

The guard was enraged, he had never been shown such disrespect before. He was the guard and he was supposed to punish the dinosaur but the dinosaur was not being punished. He rather seemed to be enjoying himself. The guard grabbed for his keys and opened the cell door. Lunging at Tim with his truncheon, he bashed him on the head, once, twice, thrice. Again and again he raised his truncheon and brought it down, harder and harder on Tim’s head.

What the guard did not realise was that Tim’s head was magnificently hard. It was solid. His puny, little arm and truncheon did nothing to hurt Tim. It was more irritating than anything else. Tim gave the guard a cute little wink and used that mighty, crested head of his to knock the guard flying into the bars of the cell. Expelling his final stink, the guard crumpled to the floor.

“Larry,” Tim yelled, “Larry, we have to go now.” He slapped Larry’s face but Larry did not react. “Larry,” Tim slapped him again but again Larry did not react. “Come on, you old wimp. This is our chance, we need to go now.” Tim slapped him again and again and again. He was beginning to enjoy himself.

“Stop,” Larry said in-between slaps, “stop hitting me.” He raised his head out of Tim’s reach but straight into the thick cloud of putrid gas. His head whirled around in a large circle and fell, crashing down to the floor.

“Always the hard way with you, Larry. Always the hard way.” Tim slapped him one last time and used all his strength to push him out of the cell.

The only way he was going to save Larry was if Larry could breathe regular air again, which Tim hoped, was just through the door at the end of the room. Tim buried his head under Larry’s legs and used the leverage to push Larry forwards. One of Tim’s horns prodded Larry in the stomach. It did not hurt him but the force on his stomach set off an internal reaction, which resulted in a rather loud and unpleasant expulsion of gas. “See, Larry? You’re always doing it,” Tim said, holding his breath.

Tim knew Larry would probably complain when he woke up and he would say that they should not have escaped but freedom was theirs for the taking, if they acted quickly. That same freedom would hopefully jolt Larry back to reality and help him realise that they were not slaves at all. They were free beasts, as it clearly stated in their constitution. Tim wished that he had a copy of it so he could show it to Larry and those bugs and that’d be the end of that but he didn’t. He had never even seen a copy but he was sure it existed.

So long as he could get Larry out of the cell he stood a chance. There was no point dwelling on the fact that the time machine was broken and only one person could ever fly it. Those problems would have to disappear for a while because it took Tim all his effort just to move the very large problem lying at his feet.

Time Travelling Dino's: The Pilot