Pons and Ned enter from the left onto a scene with big rocks laying around. There is a smoking volcano in the distance and a few tropical-looking trees on either side of the scene.
Ned: Look here, Pons. We're fer sure in a pre-hysterical sitch-ation.
Pons: I guess so, Ned. I don't see any dinosaurs around.
Ned: Kinda thunk they'd have a pettin' zoo or some such.
Pons: Man and dinosaurs were in different times, Ned.
Ned: Think they're three hours ahind us like folks in Calerfernya?
Pons: I'm talking eons, Ned.
Ned: I was hopin' we'd be talkin' Inkelish. (Suddenly looking up) Hey! Looky there, Pons! It's one a them perrytackles!
Pons: Pterodactyl is pronounced with T, Ned. The P is silent.
A gallon of what appears to be whitewash drops from above and lands on Pons. He is drenched with goo.
Ned: Their pee might be silent, but that there bird turd made a big ol' splash, dude.
Pons: I'm glad this is a dream, Ned.
Ned: Sorry I got ya, uh, ooped on, in my dream, Pons. Notice how I made that there P silent?
Pons: Very clever, Ned.
(Then, a small, dark, golf ball-sized turd hits Pons on the head)
Ned: Looks like that little possom, er whatever that there terrytackle was carryin' must a dropped a duece his own self.
Pons: I don't think there were mammals in the Jurassic period, Ned.
Ned: Ain't no wonder. Them big birds likely et em all up.
Pons: Maybe we can find another time to visit. One with a shower and a change of clothes. It might be nice if you just woke up. I'm a bit concerned that I'm the one getting dumped on in YOUR dream.
Ned: I'll git us ta anutter time straight away, Pons. Sorry ya got ooped on in ma dream. Bes' I could figure is that if a bucket a terrytackle turd was comin' down, it wouldn't be no dream a mine ta git splatted wit it. Guess that jis leaves you.
Pons: How about going to the future, Ned?
The two wander off the scene to the right as Ned presses the device on his wrist.
To be continued...
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