Eva and the Mighty Mesozoic Mixer

Eva's the most beautiful woman I know. Her eyes are the color of agates. Raven hair frames her face like August thunderclouds. Her long thin fingers dance animatedly when she talks. Her voice has the lilt of an Irish folksong. She's lovely in all things—save her Stegosaurus tail.

But even her tail sort of works to her advantage. It weeds out lesser men, for one. A guy has to be really into her to overlook it; some even appreciate the fact that she can knock over cars and provide a wide berth while walking down the sidewalk. Eva’s Stegosaurus tail made her

feel like a superhero. How many women harbored an evolutionary advantage from Jurassic era? Eva proudly sauntered into her favorite watering hole and pulled up a seat. One that left generous room for her scaly cargo. “The usual,” she said to the barkeep. “And make it a double.”

The barkeep widened his eyes in horror and gulped, "D-double? You sure, ma'm?" Her glare made him dash to the back of the tavern. "Terry, Mark, Betty! We're going to have to unload everything for the storage and shut down the bar! We have to make THAT drink as a double!"

Mark took of his apron and quit on the spot. Terry was shaking in fear. Betty sighed, rolled up her sleeves, and got a lobster pot out. She filled it with a gallon each of schnapps, tequila, grappa, heavy cream, and ginger ale.

She mixed it all and when done handed out a glass to everyone. “This is a good time to tell you that I have been putting hair in your meals for years” she said. “And I stir soup with my feet” Mary added. To that they all raised a glass. This would be the night to end all nights.