The Queen of the Lizards Stolen My Paints

The queen of the lizards stole my paints. I'd rather get trampled out there than live in safety without art. Trampling is a huge human killer. How lucky was i to have made it out of that alive? When my fingers stop shaking, i swipe the alarm off and poke your head outside. My cretaceous visitor is gone. Leaving behind a trail of crushed cars. She must have hauled tail out of here. After all that, i need a smoke and a canvas, and there haven't been cigarettes on the island in years. It'll take hours of painting to really calm my nerves.