Southie and the Tiny Dineys

Southie woke up on the beach with sand in her hair and bad vibes in her soul.

She sat up, squinted at the horizon, and immediately noticed something was wrong.

A Tyrannosaurus Rex ran past her foot.

It was about six inches tall.

It screamed.

“RAWR.”

Southie stared.

“…No.”

The Rex bit her toe and bounced off like a rubber ball. Southie yelped and jumped to her feet.

“I refuse,” she said out loud. “I REFUSE.”

The island did not care.

Tiny brontos waddled by like angry parade balloons. A microraptor fluttered past her face and hissed. Somewhere behind her, a dodo screamed with the confidence of something that had never faced consequences.

Southie tried to gather rocks. A tiny trike charged the stone she was reaching for and headbutted it away. She tried to punch a tree. It dropped one piece of wood. A tiny stegosaurus ate it and pooped proudly.

Southie screamed into the sky.

She built a campfire the size of a candle and sat beside it, defeated. That’s when the Tiny Dineys emerged from the bushes and formed a circle around her.

A tiny Rex climbed onto a pebble.

“YOU HAVE BEEN CHOSEN,” it squeaked.

“For what?” Southie asked.

“QUEEN.”

A dodo slapped a leaf crown onto her head. Fireworks went off for reasons no one explained.

Southie stood up. “I didn’t agree to this.”

The Tiny Dineys bowed.

She sighed, adjusted the crooked crown, and muttered, “Fine. But I’m instituting nap time.”

The island trembled.

Somewhere, a tiny dodo began plotting her downfall.