There once was a hairtoad that sat on a pedestool on top of the world and dreamed everything into existence.
There were lots of things he imagined. Purple portals puking pteradactyls and relic reading rocket ships. Zombies dancing the herky jerky in airport lobbies while singing in hexadecimal. Cryptid creatures wiggling their yarny little fingers at the universe. Old ladies reading voodoo and old men listening vicariously to the slappy sounds of butt beat fucking. Great sand storms of glitter dust choking the sad out of every stupid kid on earth.
Then one day he dreamed of a great ocean that covered the entire world and washed away all the wonderful things he'd made. Or maybe it was an asteroid that coated everything in fire and ice, causing stuff to shrink and shrivel like dehydrated, lonesome cacti.
Either way the hairtoad couldn't remember the things he'd made so he decided to make new things.
And the very first things he made were love, and dinosaurs.
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