I had no choice

Explain yourself, Mr. Bramwell. Why are you harboring a crow in your knapsack?


You don't understand, Mrs. Egram. I had no choice.


The crows attempted to kill us in Turkey, did you know that? ... Or was it Hungary?


It was Turkey, Truman. And yes I am aware of your past associations with the crows.


We ate a mess of them Turkey crows. Hmm mm.


I said, explain yourself!


I had no choice! The crows enslaved me as a child and they force me to do their bidding. The crow in my sack is called Gorgon. He is an important leader among the crows. He is my overseer.


Him's the crow you keep in that cage. Hmmm.


No! He keeps me in a cage. He was only posing as my pet for your benefit.


What is he doing here, with us?


As you know, Mrs. Egram, normally the crows are able to fly through time and through dimensions as easily other birds fly through the air.


Like penguins? Hmmm.


Caw! Penguins are the enemy!


No. Nothing like penguins! Please, let me continue. Since the implementation of the celestial lockdown protocols by Lord Newman, the crows have been unable to travel into Parallel Time. I was commanded to bring Gorgon into Parallel Time with you.


Why didn't you just take him on the elevator yourself?


I couldn't. Carrot Top was monitoring my activities. He is an acolyte of Lord Newman, as are Chuckie and Onslo. I needed your help to defeat them.


Onslo?


I expected him to be there, but his whereabouts are unknown to me.


Why do these crows of yours seek to enter Parallel Time?


They believe a sacred atrifact exists there in the Antarctic that they can use to bring about the appocalypse. Gorgon was hoping to contact a mythical creature known as the Great White Crow.


Preposterous!


The crows may be evil, Mrs. Egram, but no one ever accused them of being intelligent. Their brains are quite tiny.


Caw!


What was to become of us, Mr. Bramwell.


The crows commanded me to leave you in one of the more inhospitable timelimes. ... But I decided to turn against them. I see you as a lifeline to my freedom, Mrs. Egram. You must believe me.


What about Gorgon?


I know someone who is waiting for his supper.


Grrr.


Caw!

Note: No animals were harmed in the making of this blog entry. ... Except for the crow. He was killed.

Did you say Demerol?

What are we supposed to do with this dinosaur?


One of the rules of interdimensional travel is that if Jesus tells you to take a dinosaur, you take the dinosaur.

You have a lot of rules.


That dinosaur is just a baby. He's probably hungry.

I don't like the way he is looking at me.

He probably thinks your his mother. Maybe you should nurse him.

You are disgusting. ... I feel feint.


The lovely Mrs. Egram has a point. The creature is probably famished. Does anyone have any food?

I have some granola bars, some dried fruit, some nuts ...

Talk about disgusting! Bramwell asked for food. It's a dinosaur not a rabbit!

Well, what sort of food do you have, Truman?


Well, let me see. Um, some Jack Daniels, a tin of beluga ... some Demoral.


I got me some french fried potaters and some potted meat. Hmm.


I have a package of orange-dyed crackers and heavily processed peanut butter. Also some Turkish taffy. ... Did you say Demerol?


Oh yes. And not the generic stuff either.


Might you be interested in trading for some Vicodin?


Even up? Throw in an Oxycodone and it's a deal.


Perhaps if you were to include an Ambien. ...


Generic OK?


Done!

Pardon me for interrupting your interdimensional drug deal, but the dinosaur. ... Bramwell, do you have any food?


Of course. I have some pemmican, some Tang and some suet.

Suet? My God, what for? Another one of your rules?


Mmm. It probably for that crow he hidin' in his backpack. Hmmm.


Caw!