Badlands, U.S.A.
The Hell Creek Formation is an intensively-studied division of mostly upper Cretaceous and some lower Paleogene rocks in North America, named for exposures studied along Hell Creek, near Jordan, Montana. The formation includes portions of Montana, North Dakota, South Dakota and Wyoming. In Montana, the Hell Creek Formation overlies the Fox Hills Formation. “Pompey’s Pillar” at the Pompey’s Pillar national monument is a small isolated section of the Hell Creek Formation.
It is a series of fresh and brackish-water clays, mudstones, and sandstones deposited during the Maastrichtian and Danian (Respectively the end of the Cretaceous period and the beginning of the Paleogene) by fluvial activity in fluctuating river channels and deltas and very occasional peaty swamp deposits along the low-lying eastern continental margin fronting the late Cretaceous Western Interior Seaway. The climate was mild, and the presence of crocodilians suggests a sub-tropical climate, with no prolonged annual cold. The famous iridium-enriched Cretaceous-Paleogene boundary, which separates the Cretaceous from the Cenozoic, occurs as discontinuous but distinct thin marker bedding above and occasionally within the formation, near its boundary with the overlying Fort Union Formation.
It is a bright summer day in Hell Creek; the skies are clear with nary a cloud in sight. The sun bears down upon the hard clay surface near the edge of a rock bedding which leads down into a dried out river bed and heats the ground beneath the feet of a group of hikers meandering through the formation. Among the hikers is none other than Goldenboy Gene Banton Junior, dressed in khaki shorts with a white tee shirt, leather hiking boots and topped off with a wide-brimmed hat to shield his face from the rays of the summer sun. He mutters softly to himself while pausing to take a swig of water from the canteen dangling from his waist. Replacing the top he licks the remaining droplets from his lips and breaks into a trot to catch up with the group.
“Of all the places in the entire world to be spending time I have to go and hang out in a freaking desert in the middle of summer,” he grumbles. “I should be in an air conditioned limousine getting my freak on with some hot babe, but no, instead I’m getting my freak on with hot rocks”.
A slender blonde woman, similar clad in a khaki ensemble and walking two paces ahead of him stops and then turn around to face him. From underneath the brim of her hat a pair of aqua blue lenses glares out at him. She reaches up to brush aside an errant strand of long, platinum blonde hair which delicately frames an oval shaped face layered in a fair tone of skin which bears a smattering of soft freckles and is topped off by a taut, short nose giving the woman a decidedly youthful appearance. Although she is a 23 year old grad student with a Bachelor’s degree in zoology and studying for a doctorate in Paleontology, her short, 5’2” stature combined with a slender frame and her youthful appearance lead more to believe that she is in her teens rather than 20s.
Gene knows this perhaps better than anyone as the woman is his older cousin Elise, the daughter of his uncle BW and he has known her all of his life. Growing up she was often called upon by his parents to babysit he and his sister Cassie and has lived and grown up in the same city as he. For a while one would be hard pressed to separate Junior from his cousin, especially once his hormones started to kick into gear and to this very day he would find within himself reasons for spending time with her.
“To be honest I’m surprised you’re here at all. I figured you’d be preparing for your opponent at the pay per view, but you did tell me that you wanted to come along, remember?” she asks, pressing the tip of her index finger against the point of his nose and pushing gently. “You said you wanted to learn about what I do, that your opponent wasn’t worth your time and I’m afraid that it’s too late to turn back now. Besides, we’re from Vegas, and this heat is nothing”. She removes her finger from his face and turns around to renew her trek,” Now just keep your trap shut and follow me,” she continues. “We’re almost at the dig site”.
Elise slowly begins her descent into the bed of the creek, her feet carefully selecting each pedestal as she climbs down. Junior meanwhile jumps down several at a time, confident in his physical dexterity to keep his body upright. Behind him his cousin steps onto a particular rock that disintegrates under her feet and causing her to slide briefly before finding better footing and stabilizing herself. She looks down at the next series of ‘steps’ and frowns, uncertain in their ability to support her weight. She reaches out with her right arm to her cousin and calls him by name..,
“Gene..,” she says.
Without bothering to look behind himself Junior continues his descent and dismisses his cousin with a wave of his hand,
“Don’t worry, I’ll be fine,” he says.
“No you idiot.., me! She fires back in a mildly perturbed tone.
Rolling his eyes Gene turns around and offers a hand to Elise, steadying her as she descends the rocks to catch up with him. The pair resumes their descent in tandem with Junior offering his hand for support traversing the last few ‘steps’ of rock before finally reaching the bottom of the bed. Looking up at the hill they had just gone down, Gene notes the wide spacing between steps and numerous footprints bearing into slide marks, indicating more than one less than successful trek down the hill.
“Heh, Nature is no match for me,” he grins while bouncing his pectoral muscles. “You saw how easily I did that, right? And I practically carried you along for the ride”.
“Whatever..,” Elise groans and separates from her younger cousin; walking towards the center of the bed. She approaches a site where the rest of her team busies themselves setting up for a continued dig. They prepare various tools while another pair hastily erects a tent overhead for shade and others study a hand drawn map of the dig site. Joining them Elise studies one of the maps and pauses to consult a hand written journal. “I think we should start here,” she says, pointing at a crescent near a fork in the bed. This is where we found the Raptor nest”. Looking up she glances over her shoulder and notices her cousin meandering about the site, lazily kicking a rock along in front of his path. “Geno be careful,” she warns. “This site hasn’t been fully mapped out yet”.
“There’s nothing here, past or present that can hurt me,” he arrogantly replies.
Into one ear and straight out of the other as his mother is so fond of saying, Gene quickly disregards the warnings of his cousin who has already returned to her work and continues his disinterested trek across the ancient river bed. Scanning the ground beneath his feet he spots a discarded crow bar from a previous dig lying between a pair of large rocks; he leans down to pick up the three foot long heavy steel bar and flings it over his shoulder. He carries the bar with him as he spies a very large rock nestled up against the side. Approaching the rock he casts another glance over his shoulder to Elise, who is kneeling over a find, she carefully chips away at it with a small, hand held chisel, pausing every few moments to brush it off and mutters something about coprolite. Having no idea what the word means he shrugs it off and placed the crow bar between the rock and the side of the bed, hoping to find ‘something cool, like a rattlesnake’ behind it.
He pulls hard against the bar, straining in an effort to nudge the rock from its resting place but it does not budge. He pauses to catch his breath and then elects to drive it further into the ground, wedging it between the bottom of the larger rock and a smaller rock behind it. Although the wide brim of the hat does its job keeping the sunlight out of his eyes, the same cannot be said for his arms and hands, with which he struggles mightily against the burdensome boulder. Perspiration begins to build about his sinewy body while he pushes against the crow bar, putting his weight behind it. Beneath him, the relatively soft clay surface starts to slowly give way prompting his feet to slide back a few inches. He pulls them back up, planting them firmly while continuing to push the steel bar against the rock, with sweat now pouring between his fingers and trickling into his palms. It builds up over several moments of huffing and puffing until the bar suddenly slips from his grasp. It bounces off of the bed wall and is flung forward striking him hard on the forehead. Gene falls onto his back and the sunlight becomes a starry nightscape.
The young dinosaur struggles to rise from its nest, not yet fully divested of its sleep and stands on shaky legs. Looking up from the feather and twig laden bed it rears its young head skyward, its eyes blinking in the early morning sunlight. Its massive jaws, more than two feet in length and housing hundreds of serrated, dagger-like teeth open widely in a gaping yawn, chasing the last remnants of slumber back into sub consciousness, Juniorsaurus has finally awaken.
A flock of birds flap their wings rapidly overhead as they fly off in search of food but Juniorsaurus pays them no mind as it steps from its bed, its three-toed feet crunching on a pile of bones left nearby; remnants of its latest meal. A pair of bipedal scavengers lies in wait nearby, watching carefully behind the veil of a pair of shrubs waiting for the larger, messier animal to leave its bedroom and give them an early morning meal. With another yawn the Juniorsaurus lazily flicks its tail and then begins to venture from its nest and into the outside world.
The blond haired young dinosaur is cut off from its exit by a larger, red-haired dinosaur, known as Mommasaurus which blocks its path and emits a throaty growl as it kicks at a separate pile of bones on the dried banks of the river bed but still within the bedroom of Juniorsaurus. The smaller dinosaur growls back, a less authoritative emission than that of the Mommasaurus; a plaintive wail directed at the elder specimen. The red-haired dinosaur will have none of it however and snaps its jaws at the Juniorsaurus.
“Clean your room,” Mommasaurus says sternly, her massive tail twitching in agitation.
“Come on mom”, Juniorsaurus replies in a lower pitched whine. “I wanna go chase some babeosaurs today”.
“I said clean it up..,” she insists with a throaty rumble, “…now mister!”
“No can do mom,” Juniorsaurus answers defiantly while looking to pass by the Mommasaurus. “I heard about this nest of raptor babes hanging out not too far from here, I gotta go check them out”.
Suddenly the larger Mommasaurus turns and swings its tail which slaps the Juniorsaurus directly across the side of the head, the impact sending the young dinosaur sprawling onto the ground and back to the bed from which it has just risen.
“Mom..!”
“The next time I’ll aim a little lower,” The Mommasaur says while turning away with a satisfied grunt.
With a sigh of capitulation the Juniorsaurus gives in to the demands of the elder Mommasaurus and begins to clean its bedding. Although its forearms are too short and stubby to be of much use for such a task the blond dinosaur improvises by bring its wide snout to the ground and using it to push the remains away from its nest and towards the shrubs providing concealment for a pair of delighted scavengers. One after another the piles of discarded carcasses are nuzzled and pushed towards the shrubs and after several minutes of labor the Juniorsaur lifts its snout in the direction of the shrubs.
“It’s cool, you guys can come out now,” he tells them as they squeal with excitement, bounding from the bushes and into the scraps. “But next time you guys need to eat this crap while I’m asleep, ok? If I get in trouble again then next time I’m just gonna eat everything”.
The two scavengers eagerly bob their heads and set to work on breakfast as Juniorsaurus turns and prepares to face the day in earnest, and hopefully free of chores. As it quietly tip toes out of the spacious nest it spies the Mommasaurus perusing a copy of the Weekly World News etched onto the hide of a freshly killed Brontosaur. It is careful not to attract the attention of its mother in fear of additional chores being heaped upon it but luck is on its side today as Junior escapes the confines of the huge family manor and into the open world.
“You’re gonna check out that new family of raptors, aren’t you?”
Startled by the voice the Juniorsaurus spins on its heels to the right and finds itself face to face with another red haired dinosaur. It sports the same flaming red coif as the elder Mommasaurus, albeit much longer and its face is accented by a smattering of dark spots littering its toothy mug. The beast is a sibling to the Juniorsaur, roughly the same size and age although quite different in its physical appearance leading scientists to dub the creature Mutantosaurus. Junior regards his sibling with a deep grunt and uses its wide snout to nudge it aside.
“Damn right I am,” he says. “Where are they anyway?”
“They’re down by the fjord, I saw like six of them playing in the river”.
“Raptor babes in bikinis, now that’s what I’m talking about,” Juniorsaurus lets loose with a low, throaty bellow while clacking its front claws together in gleeful anticipation. “Now, you need to get lost, I can’t be having you messing around and screwing up my swag”.
“Whatever,” the Mutantosaurus abruptly turns and begins to make its way towards its family’s lair.
“Oh by the way,” he calls out. “Don’t go home, mom is in another one of her moods and she’ll make you clean your room like she did to me”.
“My room is already clean,” The mutantosaurus replies with a simmering snarl. “I’m not a slob like you”.
“Shut up Mutant”.
The young dinosaur, as eager and energetic as ever sets off on its trek down the banks of the river. They open blue sky above bathes it’s leathery skin in the warmth of the morning sun as a gentle breeze filters in from the west and tantalizes its nostrils with the scent of its prey. Further along the banks a trio of young Triceratops grazes on the nearby vegetation, but despite such unexpected and easy access to its primary prey the Juniorsaurus ignores them. The herbivores warily watch as it rambles by with barely a second glance, preferring instead to follow its nose.
Rounding a bend in the river the youngster approaches a large tree flanked by wide shrubs. It lifts its head as it detects the faint sounds of screeching and splashing. It ducks down behind the bushes swaying gently in the breeze and peers through a gape in the foliage, its eyes zeroing in on the cause of the commotion; five young female raptors clad in bikinis. The group frolics in the water, kicking at it and splashing the others. A pair responds to the action by giving playful chase across the muddy banks when suddenly a loud roar resonates through the valley.
The ground trembles under heavy, determined footsteps and a small tree is crushed by the arrival of a large predator. Larger than the Juniorsaurus watching it through the seams in the foliage the beast dives into the group of raptor babes its jaws a gaping grin of huge, conical teeth. It grasps at the strings of one raptor’s bikini bottom but misses, losing its footing in the mud and slips awkwardly into the stream where it trips over a prone tree stump and tumbles forward towards the Juniorsaur. The youngster tries to scramble clear of the fumbling predator but is not quick enough and is bowled over as it crashes into him sending both slamming to the ground with a muted thud.
The Poppasaurus struggles back to a vertical base and glances down at the Juniorsaur, nipping at it along the ear canal and offering a gentle bunt of the head. “Sorry about that son,” it says in a low pitched rumble. “I lost my footing”.
“Damn it pops,” Juniorsaurus complains. “I just showered in the waterfall two weeks ago”. Looking up at its father the Juniorsaur studies it intently for a moment and then asks, “Hey, what are you doing here anyway?”
“Your mom wouldn’t let me eat breakfast this morning,” Poppasaurus replies. “She wanted to read it first”. The big therapod casts a sidelong glance towards the comely young raptors which have resumed their play and continues, “So I figured I’d come down here and check out the new neighbors. How about you?” he asks.
“I came down here for the same reason,” Juniorsaurus replies, bearing its own daggers in a sinister grin. “But I can’t have you trampling all over my swag pops, so you need to just hang back here and let me show you how a real dinosaur makes with the raptor babes”.
“Ok, fine”, Poppasaurus says with a playful twitch of its tail. “Knock yourself out”.
“It all starts with the walk,” he says departing through the bushes. “You have to strut, now watch and learn old timer”.
Slowly and confidently the Juniorsaur saunters down along the banks towards the playful raptor babes, its tail smugly snapping from side to side in sync with its step. It approaches the raptors and lifts its head up directing its gaze to a flock of birds across the stream, pretending not to notice their presence. The raptor babes stop playing and gaze steadily at the self-assured youngster who now drops his gaze and kicks absent mindedly at a small rock, watching it skitter into the flowing waters.
“Oh hey, sup raptor babes,” Junior finally says, turning his attention to them. “I didn’t notice you there”.
“I’m so sure,” the lead raptor replies indignantly while reaching down with a fore claw to adjust its bikini top. “You’ve only been hiding behind the bushes with Numbskull Rex watching us for the last five minutes”. She rolls her dark eyes upwards and peeks down to make sure that her top is fastened securely before the roving eyes of the Juniorsaurus. “We were wondering if you you’d ever grow the cajones to come down”.
“Actually..,” a second raptor, smaller than the first wearing a solid colored pink two-piece chimes in, “we were kinda hoping that you wouldn’t”.
“Say no more fair damsels,” Junior answers with a smirk. “Your prayers have been answered! I am willing to give myself to you; body and soul, mostly my body”.
“Oh please!” A third raptor joins in with a snort of her nostrils, “You’re not even a Rex!”
“What the hell does being a Rex have to do with getting laid?” Junior asks while arching his eye. “I have the body, I have the swag, I have everything you need right here. Name one thing a Rex has that I don’t”.
“For starters he has..,”
The first raptor is interrupted by a thundering roar which echoes through the valley sending smaller dinosaurs scattering for cover and prompting the nearby birds nestled in the trees overhead to take flight. All eyes, including those of the arrogant Juniorsaurus divert towards the direction of the sound. Across the stream a pair of large trees are parted as the ground quakes beneath the heavy, tremor inducing footsteps of a dinosaur nearly three times the size of Junior. It sports a narrow, crocodilian snout lined with rows of razor sharp teeth. Standing on two powerful hind legs the beast rears up swiping at a low flying bird with a long, heavily muscled forearm decorated with three six inch claws and on its back, a sail fin, rises up six feet in height and spans the length of the creatures back from the nape of the neck to the base of the tail.
The five raptor babes gaze at the monster through star struck lenses, their mouths bearing rows of sharp, dagger-like teeth in a carnivorous grin as the all stand up straight and take notice of the massive newcomer.
“He’s gorgeous!” The first says breathlessly.
“He’s unbelievable!”
“He’s stupendous!”
“What the hell is he..?” Junior asks softly while glaring at the spectacular specimen.
“He’s everything that you’re not,” The second raptor answers.
He is Maximus Burkasaurus Rex, the undisputed king of the dinosaurs and he has come to claim what is rightfully his.., namely, any female he sees fit. With a simmering growl he eyes the five bikini clad raptors and flicks his tail suggestively. The action prompts the group to squeal with delight and immediately dart off through the water towards him leaving a rejected and dejected but still determined.
“Oh hell no,” Junior mutters. “Nobody takes my action. This is one Burkasaurus that’s about to get Maximus wrecked”.
