Ladies, gentlemen, and reptillians of the land! It is I, SavageMercy, your host.

Welcome to “Who Wants to be a Reptillianaire?” where the points are made up, and the show doesn’t matter! Whose story is it, anyway?

Bugger off if you think you can tell me how my references work, because I’ve invented this game show for one special purpose: April Fools!

After all, this is the month of my birth and, as a natural prankster, one of my favorite holidays! I used to buy all the pranks at the store and take them to school.

Once got sent to the nurse’s office for getting a “nail through my finger” as well. Boy, was that a day. Anyway, get your gloves on, because I’ve blown up the whoopie cushions, greased all the doorknobs, and set the microwave to 30 minutes with all the forks I could find!

If you’re not ready to party, then get out of my show!

I’ve got here, sitting across from me, some very scary people. They’re here to answer questions, and to forgive the fact that some of them can’t speak, I’ve hand-waved that rule!

That’s right! A wizard did it!

I’ve dutifully collected the (admittedly few) questions that you, my readers, have posed to the characters within Gamer’s Guide to Waking up as a Dinosaur and--

“Gakor!”

… Sorry, what was that, random dinosaur?

Oh. No. You don’t get one of the fancy translator mics. Those are expensive, sorry. I’ve only got enough for the people who got questions.

“Skek!”

Listen man, I’m sorry, but you were invited to the audience, not the game. Also, this was quite an investment on my part, so unless you can cough up [REDACTED]...

“Krr…”

Yeah. Didn’t think so. Now stay quiet back there. We’re live.

Alright! Let’s have our wonderful participants introduce themselves! Then we can have them pick their matches!

“I’m sorry,” the Main Character interrupts. “Matches?” This dinosaur’s face portrays confusion as the querie is made, before off-handedly commenting: “Man, it feels good to speak again.”

A cough, as the fancy microphone-collar technology is adjusted and--

“Could you not narrate everything I do?”

Oh. My apologies. I understand that you’re typically the narrator and everything, but I’m the author, so I’m in charge today! A new voice speaks up, this one a deep and rumbling baritone.

“You think you’re hot stuff because you write the story?”

Ah, Rexcelsis, my apologies. I didn’t mean to give you the wrong impression. You’re free to leave, if you wish.

The dinosaur stands up, leaving the audience wondering how he managed to fit on that tiny folding chair to begin with.

As he leaves, I narrate, and casually mention that there are prizes for winning this game show.

Aha. He’s stopped. I’ve caught his attention.

“Prizes?”

Yes, Rexcelsis, prizes. If you wish to win them, I beg you take your seat. An uncomfortable expression crosses his face as he stands on his toes and politely works his way back through the rows of other lizards, people, and dinosaurs.

“Fossiling hell,” an irritated voice rises up. “Move your scaley behind. I can’t see the game!”

Ah, Cocop, the author of “Burning Stars, Falling Skies.” Pleasure to see you here. Thanks for attending.

“Yeah, my pleasure.” As a fellow author, he remains unperturbed as I describe exactly what he is doing without breaking eye contact. In fact, he returns a measured gaze yet unmatched by any of the other uncomfortable sacks in this room.

My apologies for the, uh, unusual seating.

He is, you see, sitting on a traffic cone.

I ran out of money from the budget in that section of seating.

“Whatever. I’ve taken worse.”

Do be sure to read his novel. He deserves the attention, with worldbuilding like that.

A blush takes over his face, before I turn my attention back to the game.

Alright! I’ve got several questions here! Let’s start with, uh… this one!

Karavos, this question is for you. The massive 70-foot dinosaur jumps a little, as if he hadn’t been expected to be called on when I already explicitly stated that anybody with one of the fancy translator things gets at least one question.

“Well I wasn’t expecting to go fi--,”

Don’t worry about it Kar, I’m just busting your Macammes. Now, this one is from Nullblaster the Voidmaker. They ask, “Hey Karavos, how was the water?”

Karavos clears his throat, then looks at me, clearly uncomfortable with interrupting my narration even though there have already been several examples of how dialogue works in this chapter.

…

He’s about to speak when I narrate, and he feels interrupted, but quiets down.

Just go on then, speak whenever! We don’t have all day! This chapter has to be out in… yeah it has to be out already.

“Um. Okay. Wow, it’s weird to be able to speak like all of you. Anyway, I assume you mean the water from the pond? Yeah, I visit there every week or so. It’s a pretty good spot. Actually, my grandmother once told me that if you’re going to travel the world then you’d better do it with fri--”

I wave my hand and the giant dinosaur disintegrates, disappearing into nothingness until he once again becomes a relevant plot point.

The rest of the contestants jump in fear, exchanging nervous glances. Let this be understood as a warning to them. I don’t really care about your grandmothers. In fact, I know more about them than you do. But the readers want answers from your stupid mouths, so if you don’t answer the questions, and just the questions, I turn you into something interesting that will keep them reading until the end of the game show. Understood?

“But, um,” the Main Character interrupts again. “What… What did you turn Karavos into?”

Oh, him? I turned him into bad comic relief, that’s all. Anyway, next question. This one has points attached!

The crowd grows excited at the mention of points, chattering amongst themselves as if they’ve already forgotten what I can do to them with a mere thought.

Now they grow quiet. No please, the chattering gives good ambience to the next question’s build up.

No? Too scared to talk? Alright then.

This question is for the human characters over there. Yeah, you three. They sit up straighter as I call on them.

From Macronomicon, “What country are the knights from, and why was the little one valuable to them?”

To clarify, because you three are idiots, the “little one” Macro is referring to here is Frieda, the gorlen over there.

Santa clears his throat, about to speak up. Then he pauses, confusion crossing his features.

“Santa? My name is Sir Grenzer!”

Yes, I’m aware, now answer the question, you savage.

His knives jingle like the bells on Christmas day, and he seems even more confused by this statement before moving on to answer.

“We hail from Zaarta, in Ghindo. And…” He adjusts the translation collar. “Wait, is this necessary? We can speak fine on our own.” He doesn’t seem to realize that he speaks Yatten, a language thus far only spoken by three characters, and slightly comprehended by another. Does he understand that this audience and grouping of other characters might not understand him?

Does he understand how annoying it would be for me to transcribe his stupid language? Ah. The gears are spinning in his head now. Before he asks anymore stupid questions, he will continue to answer the question from Macronomicon.

“Ah, yes. The gorlen is valuable because it sells for much! Our people can use it for various things, but often the wealthy like to keep them as pets.”

…

I feel as though with that sentence he just tried to hijack my creation of the world. Apparently, the wealthy humans can now own gorlens as pets. I’d better note that down…

Alright. Two-hundred points to Team Idiot.

The three idiots cheer and high five before they realize what I called their team.

Alright. It seems the rest of these questions are from the same person… J4498. Ah, the man who crafts some of my favorite comments. These should be entertaining.

For the author… Oh yeah, I have to get rid of this card, since I already answered it. Bonus points to me, by the way, for answering before any of you.

The crowd rumbles their disagreement but doesn’t protest. I am, after all, more than a god to them. Heh. That comment brought some uncomfortable expressions to their faces.

How about a question for Djanak?

D.J., J4498 wants to know if you hunt the reefs of the sea, drifting as the wind carries you from shoal to shoal?

The large Saurian rises to his feet, not noticing the folding chair stuck to his butt as he does so. Oh, now he’s noticed. A quick mind wipe and… we’ve got him back on track.

“Yes,” he rumbles, glancing around at all the spectators.

Thank you Sailboat, that’ll be all.

“Wait, Sailboat?”

I remove the translation collar with a single swipe, and he can no longer ask about his interesting nickname.

Five-hundred points to the poor Spinosaurus rip-off. He cheers, a fist pumping into the air, before cordially returning to his seat.

Ah. It’s a good time to question Rex now, since that will eliminate our worries about having the two remaining seated titans causing disruption as they move.

Rex, J4498 wants to know, have you ever considered the industrial applications of DEATH BEAMS!?

“I’m not sure what that question means.”

The audience laughs. I sigh. Of course you aren’t, you birdbrain. Half-credit for that answer. Ten points to you.

Hmm. Is the Elder Nature Spirit around? Ah, yes, there she is. Hello doll, you’re looking radiant tonight.

[Oh! Why thank you!]

So we’ve got a question here for you. Are you ready, dear?

[Sure!]

Okay. How goes the war against entropy?

ENS ponders for a moment, a finger against her lip.

[Hmmm… That’s quite a tough question, really. To measure the success against something as conceptual as entropy is a hard ask. But, I suppose with the collaboration of many denizens of the wood, we’ve so far stymied its worst effects, and managed to live happily for quite some time. Thanks for asking!]

Now isn’t she just the cutest. Two-thousand points for that well-educated answer. Picture a chibi anime girl celebrating and that’s basically what she was doing after that announcement.

Leroy, I’ve got a question for you. I direct my gaze to the Main Character, who seems confused, but gets the name and chuckles.

“Oh that’s actually quite funny!”

This question is from kgy121, actually, as I recall, before we get to J4498’s question.

Now, is SchlongLord the real main character?

The dinosaur smiles.

“He’s the main character in my heart! SchlongLord, I’m pretty sure, actually has an upcoming story of his own. I believe he is the main character starring in ‘I Chose Mega Schlong as my Weapon of Destiny, but Everything I Fight is a Male: A Harem Story.’”

Very good. Thank you for that input. Thirty-seven and a half points, but don’t worry, you’ve got a chance on this next question.

Ahem.

Cool new dino world ya got here. How long until you sit down and look for an options page? Field of view slider? Yada yada yada. There’s more, but really, he wants to know why you’re being so passive in your “Gamer’s Guide” while enjoying your any% run.

I beam the entire question into this dino’s mind, and put the rest up on screen for the audience.

“So cool new dino world ya got here. How long until you sit down and look for an options page? FOV slider? Like you have a system projecting into your brain have you noticed any changes in thought patterns? Memory wipes? Are you aloud to think about the system and how something like this is governed? Is it code? Alive? Would forest nymph know? What about green boxes because you are a dinosaur? A clock? Test the limits of the interface and look for cracks. This is an any%run. Why not find more exploites? Im shure they are there.”

The Main Character’s eyes glaze over for a moment, before looking up and answering.

“Nope. They’re not there! But good suggestions! Can’t believe I didn’t think about that myself.”

Leroy sits back down and eagerly awaits my announcement of the point value of that question.

I ignore the hopes and dreams of the Main Character and look to the left, at the shy furball that has been sitting patiently the whole time.

Frieda. Now that you have been saved and not eaten as a snack in your sleep even though you share a cave with a predator, where do you see yourself in five years?

The fluffy gorlen stands up in her chair, barely reaching the height of the sitting Main Character.

She puffs out her chest, and then squeaks out.

“Atop the throne that crests the world!”

Wow. With just a single short sentence, Frieda both surprised and alarmed me. Two-thousand points, bringing you to a tie with the Nature Spirit.

Where’s the beetle? I look around. Main Character? Did you forget to free the beetle before coming to this game show?

“Oh. Oops.”

No matter, he wouldn’t have won anyway. This show’s entirely based on my favoritism, after all.

Santa, another question for your team. How much are they paying you to watch the other two idiots? There are dinos with DEATH BEAMS. Also, nice throw.

Sir Grenzer clears his throat, smiling despite himself.

“Thank you. I’ve been practicing my knife throwing quite often lately. You won’t believe how much easier it can be than firing a bow, sometimes. Also, to answer your question, not enough. I have to raise these two idiots?” He smacks their heads and elicits cries of pain. “To be knights?! Ha!”

Santa seats himself before I address the reindeers.

J4498 wants you to know he’s very frustrated with your idiocy. Death beams, after all.

No. Don’t answer. That wasn’t a question. Learn basic survival and grow as people, please.

Eighteen-hundred points to Team Idiot for Grenzer’s answer.

Is that all the questions?

Uhhh.

Oh! There’s one more!

This question is for… Jeremy. Jeremy?

Is Jeremy here?

A wet flopping sound announces that yes, he is. But the idiot can’t be seen over Rexcelsis’ fat posterior. Didn’t I give you guys assigned seats for a reason?

Jeremy manages to flop his way around beside Rex, so I can see him as he answers my question.

Poor guy. He never even had an introduction. This is Jeremy, the man consumed by that super-fast flyer that I conveniently didn’t have to describe here at all because it didn’t attend.

Jeremy, I know I can restore your wings, but it’s just so funny to resurrect you just to watch you flop around.

From Lord Vile, with Angeuss calling him a psycho, did it feel good when your wings were cut off and eaten?

Jeremy raises an eyebrow.

“Well, surely I wouldn’t know the answer to that question because I was dead at that point. I imagine it probably felt like normal, your bones crunch and your skin gets torn away, while the meat on your bones is tasted by a salivating predator or scavenger or what-have-you. I was merely on my way to tea with the rest of my extended family when that despicable Carl attacked… Glad he’s not here.” He tilts his head at me, waiting for my point announcement, but it never comes. “This game is rigged!” he shouts, before flopping away angrily.

Heh. Never gets old.

Anyway, thanks to everybody for coming out! The pairings will be mailed to you in two weeks! You’ll have to spend the following eighteen weeks in self-quarantine with your match, and at the end of it, if you haven’t died of starvation or thirst, and haven’t killed each other, you’ll get a great reward!

The reward of knowing you can do it. Because a lot of people don’t know that.

To all my readers, who doubt or question themselves, take it from me: You can do it!

Thank you for playing “Who Wants to be a Reptiliannaire!!!”

I expect to see you all next year for the Anniversary Prank Wars! Happy April Fools!