P: Now...
J: Uh-oh.
P: ...if you're Dr. Ian Malcolm...
J: From...? Oh, Jurassic Park.
P: ...then the last place you want to be is...
J: Jurassic Park.
P: Anyplace with freakin' dinosaurs!
J: Well, duh.
P: Yet, somehow, they've managed to sign Jeff Goldblum for Jurassic World 2.
J: This I knew. They're making a fifth movie.
P: His third. Somehow, they're going to have to come up with a plausible way to get him back among the dinosaurs.
J: Like the other guy, the doctor from the first and the third ones.
P: Sam Neill.
J: Get me off this damned island.
P: Oh, it's OK, this is a different island. Of course, there are still dinosaurs on it, so...
J: Damn it!
P: We have to have an expert scientist to ignore who also wasn't dumb enough to make the dinosaurs trying to kill everyone.
J: So all Malcolm has to offer is telling everyone not to go be part of the damn buffet?
P: Well, there's the running and screaming. And we have to assume all the chaos is a big draw for him.
J: Why am I on the island of dinosaurs and not wearing a tank to cover all my delicious meat?
P: No, that's not the perfect weapon. You know what the perfect weapon is. Same as for zombie hordes.
J: A baseball bat?
P: AC-130.
J: The Hercules thing? With the 50-cal?
P: 105mm Howitzer! 40mm cannon! 25mm machine gun, front-mounted! Most importantly, you are not down there with them.
J: Is that going to work? Something always goes wrong. It's like they've got somebody on the inside making things go wrong. In the first movie, it was...the computer guy...
P: Wayne Knight. Neuman.
J: Yeah, him.
P: He wasn't actually trying to sabotage the place, just shut down security long enough to cover his escape. Either through bad programming or just mechanical inefficiency, things didn't switch back on like they were supposed to.
J: Either way, time to get the damn shotguns! And that didn't even help.
P: They were way understaffed. The place wasn't open yet.
J: Right, running a skeleton crew.
P: At least, they would be after the feeding frenzy.
J: Jurassic World was fully staffed and open for business. What's the point of putting all those people around apex predators designed to kill us?
P: Well, they're not really, not the natural ones anyway.
J: They're not natural anymore.
P: Certainly not. And in the last one, well, people really were trying to sabotage the place. We had our head scientist from the first movie poking his head back up from the lab..."Hi, I've been trying to weaponize the critters for the last few years." Because humans try to weaponize everything.
J: And working with the government. They put raptor DNA in it.
P: And chameleon.
J: It tore out its own tracking device and went hunting for fun. They can't control that. Your plane might not be able to shoot it either.
P: It has infra-red tracking gear.
J: That might not be enough with that thing.
P: In which case, I'm still in a plane. OK, so maybe they just let it loose someplace unfriendly and leave it to hunt. Admittedly, it's about as responsible as planting minefields and leaving them behind to see who they kill. If it doesn't get a taste for ISIS, set off the brain bomb buried deep, deep in its head.
J: Unless it digs that out, too.
P: It's buried really deep.
J: They've got to have all kinds of good nanotech in that lab. They should have some way to control them.
P: Sure, control the nervous system, the endocrine system, or even just clog up the bloodstream with graphene clots.
J: Well, that might work. It has to get hungry some time and actually hunt for food.
P: Better still, go beyond the lysine option and just program in a termination date. Figure out their maximum travel range and turn them loose. As long as they don't learn to drive or hop a boat, they're under limited control.
J: Of course, the government's still going to want controllable soldiers. How long till they're putting together human hybrid dino-soldiers?
P: And how long till the hybrids decide to find a way to increase their numbers and take over?
J: They always turn on you.
P: Of course, intelligent dino-soldier slaves isn't the real problem. The problem is all the clowns who want to keep making dinosaurs in the first place.
J: Step one, don't make dinosaurs.
P: There you go. That nanotech bio-lab could probably come up with some nifty superpowers. Failing that, there's always omelettes.
J: I want cookies.
P: Fine, omelettes and cookies.
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