The dinosaurs come back from space one day and try to integrate themselves into human society. For the most part it’s a success, no eating anyone or anything like that – even the mighty tyrannosaurs have had to become vegetarians after 65 million years in space – they aren’t even offended at Jurassic Park. “How quaint,” they say, or “Oh, I liked that one – so exciting!” You’re thrilled the dinosaurs are back (part of you is still three and goes Rarrrrrr! all the time) but they can be kind of patronizing.

A lot of the dinosaurs open detective agencies for some reason. They’re really good at it, through not so much at following people around. Even the compsognathus – the smallest dinosaur ever! – sticks out in a crowd, so for the boring day-to-day routine they hire people like you. “This is my Peephole Specialist,” says your boss, a juvenator starki who calls himself Alphonse. It’s hard to tell, but you think he’s smiling. You darkly suspect him of having a sense of humor.

“Thanks,” you growl. You’ve got five feet on him, easy, but he bullies you around like your older sister. “Pleased to meet you.”

“I don’t think you’ll have much work,” says your client, who’s a little too nervous. “It’s really just a simple job. I just want to know where my husband goes during the day. I think I’m entitled to that, surely? I mean, he’s my husband, I should know what he does for a living, right?”

“Of course,” purrs Al, and you suddenly remember that these dinosaurs have spent 65 million years surviving.