BLJaR Goes to Jurassic Park Prologue

Benny, Leo, Johnny and Rae Goes to Jurassic Park
Prologue
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Isla Nublar
120 Miles West of Costa Rica

It’s quiet for a second, when suddenly a roar rises from the Jungle, a loud deafening roar. The trees shake as something very, very large plows ahead toward a group of workers. Every head gathered in this little clearing snaps, turning in the direction of the sound as it bursts through the trees.

It’s a bulldozer. It drops its scoop and pushes forward into the back end of the crate, shoving it across the jungle floor towards an impressive fenced structure that towers over an enclosed section of thick jungle. There’s a guard tower at one end of this holding open that makes it look like San Quentin.

The bulldozer pushes forward into the back end, the crate thuds to the floor. A door slides open in the pen, making a space as big as the end of the crate.

Nobody moves for a second, including a grim-faced man, who seems to be in charge of the workers. This was Robert Muldoon, a game warden of sorts.

"All right now, pushers, move in," Muldoon spoke with strong authority. "Loading team, move it."

The movement agitated whatever is inside the crate, and the whole thing shivers as growls ad snaps come from inside. Everyone moves back.

"All right, steady. Get back in there now, pus. Get back in there, don’t let her know you’re afraid."

The men go back to the crate and begin to push it into the slot. The crate thuds up against the opening. A green light, on the side of the pen, lights up, showing contact has been made. From inside the crate, we get glimpses of what’s on the other side of those wooden slates - - jungle foliage, men with rifles, searching searchlights.

"Well locked, loading team. Step away. Joffrey, raise the gate."

A worker climbs to the top of the crate. The searchlights are trained on the door. The riflemen throw the bolts on their rifles and crack their stun guns, sending arcs of current cracking through the air. The worker gets ready to grab the gate when all at once there is a roar from the inside the crate, and the panel flies out of his hands and smacks into him, knocking him clear off the crate.

Now everything happens at once. The worker thuds to the jungle floor, the crate jerks away from the mouth of the holding pen, an alarm buzzer sounds and a claw slashes out from inside the crate. It sinks into the ankle of the worker, dragging him toward the dark mouth between the crate and the pen. The worker screams and paws the dirt, leaving long claw marks as he is rapidly dragged toward the crate.

"Tasers, get in there!" Muldoon shouted.

They fire their guns, the sound of the crate splinters. Muldoon runs in and grabs the worker, trying to pull him free. The wild arcs of currents from the stun gun flash and CRACK all around, but in a second… The worker is gone.

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Mano De Dios Amber Mine
Dominican Republic

Donald Gennaro, fory, in a city man’s idea of hiking clothes and a hundred dollar haircut, approaches on a raft being pulled by two men. On the hillside, Juan Rostagno, thirty-ish, Coasta Rican, a smart-looking guy in worker’s clothes, is waiting for him.

"Tengo mil psos que dicen que se cae," Rostagno spoke in Spanish (I have a thousand pesos that say he falls)

Gennaro finally lands, and Rostagno helps him off the raft.

"Hola, Juanito," Gennaro greeted.

"Hola, bienvenido."

Rostagno leads Gennaro towards the mine. A dozen shirtless workers claw and scrape at a rocky mountainside that is the site of an extensive mining operation. The work is all done by hand, pick and shovel instead of dynamite and a bulldozer.

"What’s this I hear at the airport Hammond’s not even here?" Gennaro asked.

"He sends his apologies," said Rostagno

"You’re telling me that we’re facing a $20 million lawsuit from the family of that injured worker and Hammond couldn’t even be bothered to see me?"

"He had to leave early to be with his daughter. She’s getting a divorce."

"I understand that. We’d be well advised to deal with this situation now. The insurance company--"

Gennaro almost falls; Rostagno helps him.

"--The underwriters of the park feel the accident raises some very serious questions about the safety of the park, and they’re making the investors very ancious. I had to promise I would conduct thorough on-site inspection."

"Hammond hates inspections; they slow everything down."

"If they pull the funding that’s going to slow things down around here."

A worker hurries up to them and busts into the conversation, breathless.

"Jefe, encontramos otro mosquito, en el mismo sitio," the worker spoke in Spanish. (Chief, we found another mosquito in the same place).

"Seguro? Muestrama!" Rostagno cried in excitement. (Are you sure? Show me.)

The worker and Rostagno scamble back deeper into the mine. Rostagno calls back over his shoulder to Gennaro.

"It seems like it’s going to be a good day after all," Rostagno smiled. "They found another one! C’mon.

Gennaro struggles to keep up as Rostagno leads him deep into the dark, dripping cave, where at least a dozen other workers are gathered in a tight circle, staring at something intently. Rostagno fights to the center of the group. One of the workers hands him something and Rostagno examines it carefully. It’s a chuck of amber, a shiny yellow rock almost the size of a half dollar.

"If two or more experts sign ff on the island," said Gennaro. "The insurance guys’ll back off. I already got Ian Malcolm, but they think he’s too trendy. They want Alan Grant and some group called “The Fantasy Adventure Team”, or at least their leaders.

"Grant?" Rostagno scoffed. "You’ll never get him out of Montana.

"Why not?"

"Because he’s like me; he’s a digger."

Rostagno turns and holds the amber up to the sunlight streaming through the mouth of the cave. With the light pouring through it, the amber is translucent, and reveals something inside this strange stone… A huge mosquito, long dead, emtombed there. Rostagno smiles.

"Hay que lindo eres vas hacer a much gente feliz." (Oh you’re so beautiful. You will make a lot of people happy).
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The story begins...