The fear. That's what I enjoy the most. I revel in their fear. I drag my enormous bulk to one place, and in a moment they are gone. Everyone scurries about in abject horror that someone as noble as myself might exist. They may run much faster, but I am always behind them. When I hunger, I feed on them.

I now reach over the screaming, writhing body of such a victim. Shall I kill it quickly? No, no fun in that. Not at all. I'll run my razor sharp teeth upon its fear-stricken body and through them, feel its mindless terror.

I imagine it looking into my gaping mouth and it feeling my hot breath pour onto its body.

What? It's stopped. Paralyzed with fear? Died of fright? Well, satisfying either way. Now to settle my other hunger.

My teeth press into its body with no resistance. The hot blood bursts its neck and splatters upon my face. How warm it is! I shut my eyes and simply let it flow against my skin. Then I tear off the first tantalizing strip of flesh from its neck and chew it lovingly.

As I clean the bones of marrow, I decide to stand above them and let out a loud, shrill scream-the scream of victory.

I begin to feel tired, so I lay down beside the bones of my victim and fill my nostrils with the stench of my jungle.

The next morning I awake to find my hulk shaking! Me quivering as my victims? No, not as my victims. It's from cold, a cold I have never known. I rise from my bed of bones and rotting earth. I look about to see no animals scurrying to find shelter from my menace. I wonder about this new predicament. Then, out of the jungle a creature leaps upon me! It looks physically very much like me, but I don't fear it. I begin to struggle with it, and soon find it fights out of fear. I show none. I am once more victorious!

The cold, it's terrible. My body, a quivering mass, falls to the ground. My eyes tear as I begin to turn black. Then I feel an odd warmth. Then I feel no more.

* * * * *

"...and that is how they died."

I listen to this man with pleasure. Not because I agree with what he says, but because I know I'm the best, and his pathetic "theory" will be destroyed once I speak. Oh, and how predictable the end will be. He'll say, "and that is how they died, how the mighty dinosaurs fell!"

Well, I suppose I'll get up and put this man out of his misery.

"This man does not know what he is saying," I say.

All eyes fall upon me, and the people believe me. This, this is my scream of victory.

"It was the rise of the fruit flies. We all know it happened. We've seen swarms of ..."

I rattle my well-rehearsed and precisely stated theory until all applaud me. Of course.

My "victim" runs off the stage and is no more. I revel in my glory. I move up to the podium and continue explaining my theory, or as I like to call it, the facts.

After the convention I walk alone down the street until I reach my apartment. I move towards the elevator, and in it, I see the scientist who was on the stage before I disproved him. He sees me, and showing the fear, runs from the elevator as I enter it. I laugh as the elevator slowly pulls itself up to my floor.

The next morning I awake to find myself very cold. I get out of my bed regretfully and go to my thermostat. It's set for eighty! I turn it up more, but to no avail. I turn on my radio, but no one seems to be broadcasting. I dress as warmly as possible, and run out into the hall. The elevator is frozen! I go to the stairs and rush to the lobby. I step outside and my eyes begin to tear. Then, the scientist I had defeated came out.

"I was right!" he said. "Global cooling did kill them. If you had listened, you would have heard me prove that it would happen again!"

His face dropped, and he fell onto me.

"But I never expected it to be this cold," he said.

He is black with frostbite as I am. I feel an odd warmth. Then I feel no more.n