Buddy Cop Request

Request from Shen: "Dinosaur buddy-cop story and they love sushi"

GoFundMe Link: Markie's Canadian Dinosaur Adventure

Donate $10 and I'll write you a dinosaur short story with your requested genre, dinosaurs and whatever fun, silly, ridiculous thing you want to add.

---------------------------------------------------------

“I’m telling you, all sauropods are pacifists,” Stan said, snagging a piece of Fern Roll from the sushi boat. It was Sushi-boat-Friday at Fukuiraptor’s and Stan and his partner Elliot never missed Sushi-boat-Friday.

“That’s kind of a blanket statement about an entire species, man,” Elliot responded flatly, a salmon piece stuffed into his mouth. The massive pentaceratops officer shrugged his shoulders, his face impassive.

“You ever see a sauropod mixed up in anything beyond bickering civil stuff? They’re just peaceful people. It’s not a bad thing.”

“Doesn’t matter if it’s a bad thing. You shouldn’t make broad strokes about species. Like, everyone says ceratopsians are inherently grumpy,” Elliott said with eyebrows raised, pointing a chopstick at his partner’s always mildly grumpy, bored face.

“We are,” Stan said dryly. “And velociraptors aren’t funny.”

“Ha. Ha,” Elliott snorted. “You believe this guy, Fuku-san? Calling us raptors not funny.”

Fuku-chan glanced up from where he was prepping more of his masterpieces, his feathers graying around the edges but his eyes still sharp. “He said velociraptors aren’t funny.”

“Ha!” Stan barked, cracking a smile.

“Traitor,” Elliot mumbled at Fuku-san, who shrugged and passed off a roll to be delivered before pointing his sushi knife at Stan with an eyebrow cocked.

“And sauropods are peaceful until you cut them off in traffic, officer. Watch yourself.”

“Fair enough,” Stan conceded, going for another piece of Fern Roll when their radio came to life.

“All units, we have a robbery in progress at Hell Creek first national,” the dispatcher’s voice rattled off, causing the duo to glance at each other over their lunch.

“That’s us, big guy,” Elliot grinned, putting his chopsticks down and nodding a thanks to Fuku-san. The old raptor was already moving their plates out of the way and telling them to be careful as the officers headed for the door.

Stan clipped his flashing light to his tall frill, the pulsing blue bulb fitting just below the dip lined with sloping spikes. Elliot leaped onto his back as his pentaceratops partner took off towards the bank. Since Stan knew Saurian City inside and out, he fired through the side streets to make record time, weaving past the passing food vendors and tiny mammal tourists. Officer Bruce, a tough ankylosaur cop, was standing out front with his rookie, a nervous hardosaur who’s name escaped them.

“What do we know so far?” Stan asked as he trotted up beside Bruce, who was shaking his head with a scowl, his armored plated brows furrowed.

“At least two inside and the staff is being held hostage,” Bruce growled. “No idea if they’re armed, but I think it’s safe to say they must have something lethal.”

“Probably a safe bet.” Stan scanned the big building with windows lining the sides and top of the building and glanced at his partner. “Elliot, you up for a little gliding practice?”

The raptor groaned and flexed his arm feathers. “You know these aren’t meant for that, Stan.”

“You can get up there better than I can, and we don’t have any pterosaur officers here yet. You up for it?” Stan nodded towards the windows, eyeing his wary, small, feathered friend. Elliot was tiny compared to his huge partner, and they often used his smaller size to their advantage in fights and sneaky tactics. One such tactic was to launch Elliot through the air like a feathery torpedo to reach higher vantage points to get a good sight on a situation.

“Up for it. Hilarious.” Elliot pouted, climbing onto Stan’s frill and patted one of his big brow horns when he was set. With a well practice flick of his neck, Stan threw his partner into the air, aiming at the higher windows on the building. Elliot stretched his feathery arms, using them to steady himself just enough to keep from falling or smacking too hard into the glass. Inside, the frightened staff of the bank was huddled together as two masked dinosaurs raided the place. One big theropod, probably a teenaged tyrannosaur from his size, held a gun in his tiny arms, aimed at the hostages who stayed closed together. Inside the vault, a pachycephalosaurus was stuffing money into a large bag. Elliot could tell the robber’s species by the short, sharp horns that poked through the mask around the back and sides of his head.

Elliot motioned down his his partner: two suspects, one armed, Tiny Arms and Baldy.

Back up was on the way, and the officers knew they needed to get inside before things got too scaly, so they made their move. Bruce used his club tail to knock in the doors, Stan rushing inside with his horns pointed forward.

“Freeze, coprolite!” Stan commanded, his booming voice bouncing off the walls. Bruce came in as backup, his rookie pale but holding his weapon in his shaky hands. Elliot creeped in from above, perched up on the window ledge high above to wait for his opening.

“D-Don’t move! I--I’ll shoot!” the teenager trex yelled under his mask, his eyes wide with fear. Elliot had been right, he was just his kid, and it made Stan ease up a little.

“Put the weapon down, son,” Stan said calmly. “You don’t wanna do this.”

“Don’t listen to those lizards!” the pachy barked, slinging the back of money over his shoulder, the smile evident in his voice even if they couldn’t see his ugly mug. “Don’t make another move, or he’ll shoot the hostages!”

The bank staff sniffled and whined in fear, causing Stan to grit his teeth. The trex’s terrified eyes darted between his boss and Stan, wide and scared which was so unlike his species normal bold facade. This poor kid was barely out of the egg and it broke Stan’s heart.

“I-I…” the trex stammered, his little arms shaking almost as much as the hardosaur rookie in the background. The pachy scowled at his hesitation and marched forward, snatching the gun from his tiny hand and shoved him away.

“I’ll do it myself!” he yelled, taking aim at the cops and cackled triumphantly. Stan lowered his big frill and took a stand in front of Bruce and his rookie, trying to shield them from the line of fire.

“YAAA!” Elliott yelled as he leapt from the window’s edge, soaring through the air and landing flat on the pachy’s face in a flutter of wings and claws. The masked, round domed robber yelled in alarm, firing a shot in the air as he tried to swipe the tiny raptor off of his face. The hostages screamed, the rookie hadrosaur cried out as the bullet bounced off Bruce’s hard armor, and Stan charged forward with his horns and tackled the raptor-faced pachy to the ground. Taking a pentaceratops to the ribs left the pachy winded and bruised, Stan making sure his horns didn’t stab him but just pin him in place.

Elliot quickly cuffed the pachy and Stan hauled the suspect to his dizzy feet.

“Did you have to yell a battle cry when you jumped at him?” Stan asked amused as they lead the pachy outside to the waiting backup.

“Uh, yeah. Otherwise it’s not heroic,” Elliot scoffed like it was obvious. “It’s like you’ve never watched action movies before.”

Stan shook his head, as he shoved the defeated pachy into the back of the squad car. “Wanna go back to finish out Sushi-boat-Friday?”

“You bet your horns I do,” Elliot said gleefully, hopping on the back of his friend to hitch a ride. “Hey, what did the sushi say to the soy sauce?”

“Oh god,” Stan groaned, already not liking where this was headed. Elliot snickered happily before answering.

“You’re my soymate!” he snorted.

“Scutes, don’t start with the puns, Elliot,” Stan pleaded, his grumpy nature reappearing.

“Hey, hey. You need to control your tempura!” the little raptor cackled at his partner's distress.

“You’re not funny, Elliot.”

“No, I’m punny,” he corrected.

“Please stop.”

“That’s just how I roll. Get it...like sushi?!” Elliot howled in laughter.