“But what is our purpose in life?”
The pterodactyl’s reply came promptly, solemnly. “To bring delight to children who eat us.”
“I look like a stegosaurus…”
“Yes, yes, yes – and yet ‘we’re all made of chicken breast and bread crumbs.’ You’ve said this before!”
“Well, it begs the question: did the chicken come before us or did the egg?”
“…either way you say it, we were never first.”
The nugget dinosaurs slump even further into ketchup. They are minuscule philosophers, waiting on a white dinner plate with no choice but to accept their fate.