Two Komodo dragons were strolling along the lush sugar-apple orchard just on the edge of a hill where the land crested down toward the beach. One of them spoke.‘You know, we’re lucky, Jane,’ he mused.
‘Why is that, Tim?’ queried the other, with an air of laconic indulgence.
‘Because we live on an island called Komodo, and we happen to be Komodo Dragons. All other Komodo dragons are living in diaspora on the islands of Rinca, Flores, and Gili Motang.’
Jane, clearly exhibiting displeasure at this point, rolled her beady little lizard eyes, and said, ‘No one’s ever used the word diaspora with respect to Komodo Dragons. Not to mention the fact that we Komodo Dragons don’t have access to Wikipedia -- so technically, you’re not even supposed to know any of that. We’re just looking out for falling Indonesian fruit pickers right now, so shut the eff up.’
‘Ooh, there’s one.’
‘Let’s maul the crap out of him.’
‘Yeah.’
