Ok, so me and my friend Michaelangelo work for Ingen. Yeah, that Ingen. The evil organization from Jurassic Park that just doesn’t understand mother nature is not to be trifled with. In the immortal words of Dr. Ian Malcolm, “you were so preoccupied with whether or not you could, you didn’t stop to think if you should.”
Right. So Mikey and I work as taggers. We go out into the wilds of the world and tag animals for observation and study by shooting them with these micro chipped tag things. I have a wonderfully imaginative subconscious because once the tag has been set, all a person needs to do is hum a little pre-programmed tune and it calms the animal right down.
But the song only resonates with the tag, so you have to implant one first, or the whole thing falls apart.
So I’ve been ordered to tag this giraffe/dog chimera creature: think long neck on the body of a dog, but with the spots of a giraffe, and with its head freaking yards above, it has its tongue hanging out like a dog leaning out of a car window. I can’t decide if they’re cute or horrific, so yeah, chimera.
It’s escaped from the lab and is loose in the city (they’re always loose in the city, right? Why not ever, I don’t know, some rural nowhere with nothing but tumbleweeds and horned toads?). But whatever. Chimera. Loose. Gotta save the city and indulge my Power Rangers envy by being a hero.
I take one of the guns being prepared for this massive mission all of us taggers have schedule for the next day. We’re going to try and reclaim the old Jurassic Park. So I take a gun and go hunt the chimera, because that’s what heroes do.
I get there, and this chimera is practically rabid. It’s terrorizing actual dogs in a downtown park, children are crying, parents are snapping photos of this thing–it’s a mess. It’s distracted by a particularly feisty chihuahua, both barking at each other, except the chimera’s body is like yards back and it’s head is near the ground, it’s head extended to be right in the chihuahua’s face, but Good Night, the little dog isn’t backing down.
I tag it while it’s in the middle of its barking contest and then edge closer, humming the song.
But it doesn’t work.
Cue the scene were it swings it’s head around in a panic, knocking me in my gut, and then I’m trying to wrestle it’s massive neck down while I’m humming this song loudly and frantically.
Eventually, I manage to knock it unconscious (because in dream mode, I’m a badass apparently), and I return to the lab to try and tell anyone that’ll listen that the microchips won’t work against the dinosaurs. No one listens (shockingly) so the next day, our people head out to Jurassic Park and start dying because the humming songs aren’t working.
I find my friend Mikey and we do stealthy-sneaky shenanigans into the computer room to discover that the tags have been programmed with a freaking different song. On purpose, or by accident, who can say? But I’ve got people to save so I leave that question for later.
We rush to the island and start running along, humming these little ditties, the correct little ditties. Dinosaurs drop left and right, and we pave our way through them like Moses parting the Red Sea. But still, we lost good men and women, though Mikey and I hum our way through the island, saving as many as we can.
We’re still humming our butts off when I wake up.