Jesus, look at all these fucking rugrats.
I didn’t pay $50 to have a bunch of brats prevent me from walking next to these realistic looking dinosaur puppets. What, were all the babysitters busy at 2 PM on a Sunday, parents? Seriously, who has the gall to bring their kids to a paleontological event like this?
Surprise, surprise, another child got picked to volunteer on stage! Hey, here’s an idea: stop picking the kids wearing a dinosaur sweatshirt and start picking the adults wearing dinosaur sweatshirts! You have to see me, Julie. I tower over everyone and I literally cannot raise my hand any higher.
Of course his name is Brayden. We’ve already had a Mackenzie and an Aiden on stage. Might as well throw a Brayden into this goddamn dog and pony show.
Alright, Julie, at least ask him a good question. Whatever you do, don’t lob him a softball… What does a triceratops eat? Are you fucking kidding me?! The better question is what are you feeding the audience right now? Because the answer is bullshit, Julie.
Pizza Bagels? Really, Brayden!? No, don’t laugh and applaud! You’re only encouraging the little shit! He wasn’t even close! We should publicly shame the little bastard.
It’s almost as if the adults don’t care about engaging in intelligent discourse and are here simply to take cute photos of their children.
Kids, shut the hell up! The T. rex is coming on stage. The T. rex! Oh my god, it’s marvelous. Look at those razor sharp teeth, powerful legs and agile tail. Good, it’s crouching down so we can get a better look at its skull structure and… it farts? A fucking fart joke?!