Rex - A Very Short Story
by Ben Wolf
You'll never believe what just happened.
It's unbelievable. Freaky, too.
Well, you gonna tell me, or not?
I'm sitting in this ice cream shop, right?
Noshing on some rocky road. Delicious.
There's a kid behind the counter. 16, maybe. Nametag read Bob, or Rob, or something like that.
Is there a point to this story?
I'm getting to it.
He's standing there, wiping down the counter.
Aaaaaand then, no joke, a T-Rex lumbered through the door.
Like…one of those articulated suits at those dinosaur shows?
Nah, bro. I mean a real, freaking T-Rex. It shook the ground as it came inside the ice cream shop.
You're lying, right?
You're making this up.
Scout's honor, I'm not.
It was an honest-to-goodness REAL T-Rex. Big teeth, tiny arms, scales. All of it.
I still don't believe you.
It happened. Swear to God. Anyway, it thundered right up to the counter and stared down at the kid.
This kid—I couldn't believe the cohones on this kid. He's shaking—literally quaking while he's standing there—
But he looks up at the T-Rex and says, "Y-You're a T-Rex. T-Rexes don't eat ice cream."
There's no way this is real.
It's real, bro.
A live T-Rex? Doubtful.
Do you want to know what happened next or not?
Fine. Sure. What happened next?
The kid said that, and the T-Rex cocked its head to the side, as if the kid had made a good point.
T-Rexes are carnivores after all.
And then the T-Rex ate him.
I'm rolling my eyes so hard at you right now.
You have some kind of imagination.
Obviously the T-Rex ate the kid. What else was gonna happen? He'd settle down with some mint chocolate chip in a waffle cone?
Where do you come up with this stuff? You're crazy.
Hello? Jeff?
Sorry. Dropped my phone. Hard to text and run at the same time.
…The hell are you running from?
What do you think I'm running from?
nah. You're messing with me.
I was the only other one in the ice cream shop, and the kid wasn't that big.
I'm rolling my eyes again.
Think what you want. I'm really hoping I can get
Get what?
Get what, Jeff?
Oh, I see what you're doing. Trying to pretend the T-Rex got you. Not gonna work on me, fam.
Alright, buddy. You let me know when you feel like talking about something normal.
Five minutes later...
Jeff, c'mon.
I know you're pretending, but this is excessive.
Jeff, I know you didn't get eaten by no Tyrannosaurus Rex. They're extinct.
And you're stupid if you think I'm gonna fall for this.
Two minutes later...
Jeff, my lunch break is almost over. Can you please text me to let me know you're okay?
I have six minutes left before I need to clock back in.
the hell is that supposed to mean? You sitting on your phone? Butt-texting me?
C'mon, man. Joke's over. You got me, okay? I'm legit worried for you now. Let's just be done with this.
Dammit, Jeff! Just text me something real so I know you're okay!
That's it. I'm calling you.
Answer your phone, Jeff.
Hey, dummy. Pick up. It's that green button on the screen.
Jeff, I've got 3 min left on my break.
Now I know you're jerking me around. I hear that damned Rick Astley ringtone of yours from around the corner.
I've got two minutes left on my break, but I only need one to kick your ass.
Here I come. Shut your damned ringtone off before I
[End Conversation]