When the moon hits your eye!

[Billy]

The camera opened on a closeup of Luchasaurus asleep. It was a night vision camera. It pulled out slowly revealing a bed with corner posts and ropes. Like a (not so) tiny wrestling ring for the monster to sleep in. Paul London spoke from off screen in a phony posh accent.

Paul London: Here we find the rare Luchasaurus in its natural habit…

Luchasaurus snorted, sat up and opened his right eye. He looked around for a few moments before laying back down and closing his eye. Paul London lowered his voice to a whisper.

Paul London: tat. The massive wrestling dinosaur spends even its non-waking moments inside the ring. It’s this devotion to the ring that makes the beast a threat to everyone in the industry. It’s what makes him the best possible tag team partner for a time traveling wrestling icon such as the legendary Paul London.

Another posh voice cut in.

Voice: Who are you? What are you doing here?

Paul London: I’m doing the voice over for this documentary about wrestling dinosaurs.

Voice: But, I’m the voice over artist here! You’re an imposter! Give me three reasons I shouldn’t call security!

Paul London: Spaghetti, macaroni, rigatoni.

Voice: What?

Paul London: Sorry, you made me hungry talking about pasta!

Voice: I wasn….

Luchasaurus grunted and sat up with both eyes wide open. Paul London made a bunch of hurried whisper sounds off screen.

Voice: Would you stop that?

Luchasaurus reached off camera and pulled in an older gentleman in a tweed suit. He roared in his face.

Voice: Help… me…

Luchasaurus commenced an almost cartoonish assault on the gentleman, ripping his suit sleeves and pant legs. Paul London coughed.

Paul London: And now we see the Luchasaurus defending its nest and sleep. The terrifying monster might rip the threat limb from limb if it’s not careful.

Luchasaurus looked at the camera and snorted. His breaths were ragged and deep. Finally he leaned down over the narrator and shouted.

Luchasaurus: RUNNNNNNNN!

The man scrambled to his feet and took off running away from Luchasaurus.

Paul London: And with that single utterance the prehistoric wrestler uttered more of the Queen's English than either Tomohiro Ishii or Tommaso Ciampa finds themselves capable of. How long will this tyrant beast remain at the top of the food chain? How many poor narrators will he terrify half to death? What time is lunch? All these questions we are left wondering as the shy beast returns to its nest for some much needed rest.

Luchasaurus shook his head ‘no’.

Paul London: I said.. AS THE SHY BEAST RETURNS TO ITS NEST FOR SOME MUCH NEEDED REST.

Luchasaurus shook his head ‘no’ and stood up!

Paul London: I mean um…. Then the beast went on to do whatever it wanted until a quarter after nine.

Luchasaurus nodded and grunted.

Luchasaurus: I’m hungry. Time for a snack.

Paul London: What about fettuccine, for some reason I’m craving Italian.

Luchasaurus: Noodle? How about live noodles!

Paul London: What is a live noodle?

Luchasaurus: Live noodles have fangs and they go like…

Luchasaurus proceeded to rather grossly flick his tongue about.

Paul London: Oh, snakes!

Luchasaurus: Yeah, I said time for a snake!

Paul London: I thought you said snack.

Luchasaurus: I like snake snacks!

Paul London: I know, I remember that time at the San Diego Zoo. They had to replace the entire exhibit after you treated it like a buffet!

Luchasaurus stood there scratching his head. Paul London pulled a watch out and looked at it. He sighed.

Paul London: That’s today. Well, sorry to ruin the surprise! Jump in my non-copyright infringing time and mostly relative space machine.

Luchasaurus: Huh? Where’s the alien lady?

Paul London: I’m not sure. Probably the mothership or at the intergalactic championship tournament on Titan!

Luchasaurus: Titan? Sounds yummy!

Paul London: It’s not food big guy… Not for another two thousand years or so!

The camera faded to black over their continued banter about the eventual consumption of the moon Titan by a foul cosmic entity.