Several people had disappeared down the escaped Tyrannosaur’s maw during its rampage through the streets. The entire city was in an uproar. Luckily, the police had chased the creature into the closed confines of the Brandt Auditorium.
Policemen surrounded the building. Officers set up cordons and locked all the doors closed to trap the terrifying animal. Standing outside and worrying about the people trapped with the T-Rex, Auditorium Director Fulbright was apoplectic.
At last, Fulbright reached the Tyrannosaur’s handler, Gerrold Carlson, on the phone.
“How many people are in with the T-Rex?” said Carlson.
“At least 150,” said Fulbright. “Please, you’ve got to stop this thing.”
“Good God,” said Carlson. “I can be there in five minutes.”
“It’s a lawyer’s convention,” added Fulbright. “Can you imagine the litigation?”
“Lawyers, you say?”
Carlson sighed with relief. “Well then. I’ll be there after I finish breakfast.”
“What cheek!” screeched Fulbright. “You said you could be here in five minutes.”
“Not to worry. The killing is over.”
“Hardly! There’s all those lawyers inside with it.”
“They’ll be fine,” soothed Carlson. “You don’t expect the T-Rex to eat anything rotten do you?”
Written for Sunday Photo Fiction: https://sundayphotofictioner.wordpress.com/2018/04/29/sunday-photo-fiction-april-29-2018/