The Day A Dinosaur Invaded The City

The morning started out like any other Thursday. Clocks ticked, alarm clocks buzzed, and the streets were packed with people rushing off to work. Shiny red cars and big blue buses crawled along in a giant, slow-moving traffic jam, all honking their horns: Beep, beep! Honk, honk! ​Then, right in the middle of Main Street, the ground gave a tiny wobble. ​ STOMP!

​A shoe—a giant, scaly, bright pink shoe—landed right on the crosswalk. Everyone blinked. They looked up... and up... and up! ​Standing in front of the town hall was a giant, friendly Tyrannosaurus Rex.

But he wasn't brown or green like the ones in schoolbooks. He was as pink as a bubblegum bubble, with giant purple polka dots down his back. ​"Roar!" he cheered, though it sounded a lot like a giant giggle. "Hello, tiny humans!"

​The cars and buses slammed on their brakes and skidded to a stop. Drivers poked their heads out of their windows, their eyes as wide as pancakes. ​Before anyone could say "Jurassic," the whole city was overflowing with dinosaurs of every shape and size