It was right below his slitted nostrils and much less likely to grind me to a pulp, I decided to climb the loose string of his shorts. Far above me, the gravelly, happy-go-lucky voice grunted to the tone of his music as I waited for my chance. He rised higher than the tallest building I've seen, the bulge of his pants bounced skyward as he reached his apex, then he descended like a horizontal garbage compactor ready to crush the dust under his meaty bits. If that bulge of his would hit the ground, it could crush a few tanks on Earth, no problem. But it never did. The string attached to that very visual object thudded as it slapped down, and I made a run for it.
I didn't think about what would happen if I failed, I didn't realize that I was so very close to becoming pulp under that bundle of clothed dino-meat. My only thought was that I could not let this opportunity pass by, no matter what. The minuscule slots in the white fabric gave me better handholds than I ever could have asked for as I grabbed hold and held like my life depended on it.
"Gurooooooarrr!"
The Tyrannosaur's version of a train horn signaled his next half a squat. About thirty feet below my clinging heights, the bottom of this string grinded against the ground, then came up along with the rest of this Rex's junk. The string fell limp, and I realized just how much of an oversight I made. My arms felt like they were dipped in acid as I struggled to hang onto the flapping bit of shorts suspension, but I wasn't going to let go, I wasn't going to let gravity be my end in this land of ridiculously huge reptiles!
I was launched upward with every last inch of this multi-hundred foot dinosaur, shooting past the bench-press off in the distance and somewhere around the mid-section of the nearest treadmill's leg where the hulking Rex reached his highest point, yet this string I held onto to kept going. The air working against this high-flying string forced my eyelids shut as we both rose higher.
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