A Day Off Work

A trio of fliers rest on the wing of a suspended plane, watching the noise and movement below.  The largest, a brown and tan tropeognathus named Morrow, tilts her head.  “I’d kind of like to try that apple bobbing game,” she comments.

“We’re here to report, not for fun,” Alula, the gray and red tapejara, corrects.  “Bird’s eye view, remember?”

“We’ve been reporting,” a dark-colored tapejara, Chalice, interjects.  “We’ve told everyone about every single game, and the performances, and prizes.  Can’t we have a little fun?”  His voice takes on a whining tone near the end.

Alula turns her head to regard Chalice with one eye, but Morrow speaks up again before she can say anything.  “Surely we’d be better able to report on the games if we’d actually played them,” she reasons, her gaze calculating.

Alula sighs, glancing between her fellow reporters.  Remaining impartial was one of the most important tenets of journalism, or at least the humans seemed to think so, but she knows she is not winning this argument.  And maybe she also wants to play that apple bobbing game, just a little.  “Alright,” she says, “I guess we’ve earned some fun.”

The agreement is met with hisses of excitement, and Alula leads the way off the wing of the airplane, weaving between other suspended models, crumbling information boards, and the tall-rearing heads of therizinosaurs and iguanodons.  It’s near the end of the carnival and the crowds have thinned out some, making it at least somewhat safe for the small fliers to be on the ground.  They’re still nearly stepped on as they land by a carnotaurus ogling the bright-colored airplane the trio had just vacated.  Morrow gives his leg a whack with her thorn-covered wing and the carno quickly corrects his course.

Alula takes the lead, steering the trio toward the apple bobbing game they all had their eyes on.  There’s no line, and the utahraptor in charge of the game brightens when she sees them.  “Hello, hello!” she calls.  “Care to try your claw- er, wing- at bobbing for apples?”

Morrow pushes forward, hopping up and balancing on the edge of the plastic pool that the apples were floating in.  “I sure am!  Tropeos were made for this game!” she crows.

The utahraptor grins.  “Excellent.  Gather around, then.  You have until this little hourglass runs out to grab as many apples as you can.  Just teeth, no claws, no wings, no feet,” she says, looking around at all three.  Alula and Chalice are balanced on the edge of the pool now as well.  “Ready?”  They nod.  “Go!”  She flips the hourglass.

Morrow very quickly proves that tropeos were, in fact, made for this game.  Her long mouth darts into the water again and again, apples caught in her numerous sharp teeth.  Chalice and Alula, meanwhile, struggle with the task, the wet apples slipping from their toothless beaks.  Frustrated, Chalice stabs at an apple with his beak, spearing it just long enough to toss it over the side of the pool.  Alula quickly copies this strategy, the two of them soon competing to be the better apple-spearer.

When the utahraptor calls time, there is a clear winner.  Alula and Chalice are panting, bits of apple stuck to their faces and beak, while Morrow sits smug next to her large pile of fruit.  The raptor hops down from her little stand to count them.  “Remarkable!” she exclaims.  “You’ve got enough to be on the leaderboard!”  She turns to a board with names written on it, dipping a quill in ink and glancing back.  “Your name, dear?”

“Morrow,” the tropeo says proudly, and the utahraptor writes it down with a flourish.

The trio are soon wandering to another room, looking for a new game to play.  This area is space-themed, with cases filled with old and decayed equipment, darkened and cracked screens, and faded wall murals.  The fliers understand none of it, passing under a model of a space probe and staring with brief interest at a replica of the moon landing scene.  What holds their attention are the colorful flags and streamers leading the eye to a carnival game set up along one wall: hook a duck.  Another plastic pool sits underneath the painted sign, but instead of apples this one holds rubber ducks with metal loops on their heads.  Behind the ducks is a booth, stacked with food, well-preserved plushies, and human knicknacks.  Chalice’s eyes light up upon seeing it, and he gallops ahead of the others to reach the booth first.  The dark blue oviraptor seated in front peers down at him.  “Greetings!  Ever played hook a duck before?”

Chalice reluctantly pulls his eyes away from the prizes.  “Ah, no, never,” he admits.

The oviraptor gets to her feet, grandly waving a wing at a pile of rods with hooks dangling from a string.  “The goal’s simple: use these fishing rods to pull three ducks from the pool.  Underneath, they’ll tell you what kinda prize you get!” she explains.

Alula, coming up behind Chalice, tilts her head.  “Sounds simple enough,” she comments.  The three fliers gather their rods and start trying to fish.  Alula and Morrow hold the pole in their beaks, while Chalice attempts to hold it in his fingers.  The game had looked easy when the trio had watched others play it while gathering information for reporting.  Now, they realize that getting the rod’s hook through the duck’s loop takes a lot more finesse than they originally thought.  All three fumble a bit, but Chalice is determined to win a prize, and he is first to gather three ducks.  Morrow manages to hook her third shortly after, and Alula a minute later.

Chalice eagerly turns his ducks over- the first is blank, the second marked with a red dot, and the third blank as well.  The oviraptor peers down at his catch.  “Looks like you win a plushie!” she says, and Chalice cheers, eagerly flapping up to the booth to claim his prize.  Morrow flips hers over, but all are blank.  She sighs in disappointment, and the oviraptor tsks sadly.  Two of Alula’s have green dots.  “Two snacks for you,” the oviraptor announces, waving at the array of treats.  Alula chooses a fruit for herself and a fish for Morrow, as consolation for not getting anything.  Chalice is gazing happily at the little styracosaurus plushie he’d chosen.  The three move on to the next game, chattering about how fun hook a duck was.

The carnival contains a great many games, but after the awkwardness of the two previous games, the trio decide to play one specifically made for fliers.  They make their way back into one of the airplane rooms, where an obstacle course has been set up near the ceiling.  Contestants have to weave through the suspended airplanes, soaring through a sequence of loops set among and even inside some of the models.  Alula can’t help but tap her claws on the ground in excitement when she sees it.

This game has a line, and the trio have plenty of time to watch others fly the course before the tapejara attendant waves them forward.  “You know the sequence?” he asks, and they nod.  “Good.  Going out of order will get you disqualified.  We have other attendants watching to make sure no one cheats.  Got it?”  They nod again.  “Wonderful.  Line up- and…. go!”

All three launch themselves off the ground, darting for the first hoop.  Morrow soon falls behind; while the spikes on her head and wings make her great for protection, they significantly affect her speed and maneuverability.  She knows this ahead of time, though, and takes the course at her own pace, not trying to overtake the two tapejara.  Chalice and Alula, however, are truly racing.  They swoop and soar through the course, narrowly missing a propeller blade, skimming down the curve of an airplane wing.  Chalice refused to let go of his plushie, fearing it would be stolen, and now the extra drag slows him down.  Alula pulls ahead.  Soon she’s far enough ahead that Chalice couldn’t catch her even without his plushie, and the race is decided.  Alula flies through the final hoop and slides into a showy landing.  Reporting may be her job, but she certainly likes to show off fancy flying when she can.

“Wonderful job, wonderful job!” the attendant calls, galloping over to her.  “Your prize…. is this!”  He tosses a plastic golden coin, which Alula snaps out of the air with her beak.

Chalice flutters down next to her, dropping his plushie to say, “Nice flying!” and Alula preens her chest self-consciously.

She nudges the coin toward him.  “I think the color suits you better,” she says, and Chalice puffs up happily, scooping up the coin along with his earlier prize.

A breeze washes over the pair and Morrow swoops in for a landing at last.  “What fun, huh, guys?” she says.  “What do you want to do next?”

“I could use a break after all that flying,” Alula comments, “Maybe we should go check out the concessions?  We haven’t reported on the quality of the food yet, have we?”

Chalice mumbles something eagerly around the coin and plushie in his beak, and Morrow laughs.  “Reporting on the food sounds like it’s in order,” she says, and the three fliers take to the air, making their way toward the concession stand.