It's heavy as shit. It's mammothian, perfectly preserved
in a block of ice. But maybe more like a baby mammoth.
The kind that they're going to use to repopulate the Earth
with mammoths. Imagine that. Mammoths in your backyard,
they would be hunted every winter. High school students
would skip class, forget Chipotle, we're gonna get ourselves
some mammoth meat. And soon the grassy knoll will be
covered with mammoth carcasses, stained snow: grisly.
It's heavy like that, it smells like that. If we're not careful
mammoths could walk the Earth again, and I still haven't
gotten used to all the dodos running around, pecking and
squawking, pooping in my bookbag, stealing happiness away.
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