[EU] The proud owner of the umpteenth Jurassic Park reluctantly agrees to hire a safety consultant. In their first meeting, the consultant goes over the many, many, many issues he has with the park.

Mr. Davis stepped through the door of the conference room, and the other meeting attendees were immediately taken aback. The normally well-kept consultant wore a wrinkled jacket over a sweat-stained shirt with no tie. His hair was an unkempt brown bird’s nest, and his glasses had gone missing. But none of that compared to the dangerous, wild, glint in his eye.

In his arms, he carried a stack of binders that he had to lean against his chest for balance. He slammed the pile down onto the wooden table and glared at Don Fitzsimmons, head of Quality Assurance, for an uncomfortably long time. Then he glared at Paloma Andrews, the General Counsel. Then at every single other person at the table, for equally uncomfortably long lengths.

“Hel…” Paloma started, but Mr. Davis held up one finger and silenced her. He returned to the door and opened it, allowing two staff members to wheel in carts, also full of binders. All told, there must have been fifty or sixty of them stuffed absolutely full of papers. He picked up a stack off the cart and dumped it onto the table with a loud crash, then glared at everyone again. Then another stack, followed by another glare. He went through seven iterations of this before all of the binders were on the table.

“Here is my report,” he told them, breaking the long, uncomfortable silence. He spread his arms wide like Moses parting the Red Sea so that he could gesture to all of the binders at once. The meeting attendees all seemed stunned; they’d known he was thorough, but this seemed a bit… overboard.

Everyone at the meeting waited for him to explain the contents of the report, but he didn’t. He sat down, reached for the pitcher of water nearby, and chugged the glass down so fast that he spilled half of it down his already-messy shirt. Then he slammed the glass back onto the table hard enough to make everyone flinch.

“Well, what does it say?” Don finally asked, with a sort of awkward ‘do I really have to ask this?’ laugh.

Mr. Davis glared again, head kind of cocked to the side as if he was brainstorming for the perfect insult. Then he gave a half-sigh, half-grumble, and reached for one of the binders. “Introduction,” he read in a dull monotone. “The premise of the ‘Jurassic Park’ concept is to clone species of dinosaurs and display them for visitors. Section 1 of this report will give background on how the creatures are cloned. Please also see Appendix 1 for a list of species in the park. Section 2…”

“How about just the highlights, Mr. Davis?” Paloma asked. “Maybe just an overview of the biggest one or two issues?”

Mr. Davis laughed. Nor a normal laugh, but a wild, mad-scientist-type cackle. “The biggest issues, you say?” he managed to get out in between bursts of laughter. “The biggest? Well, I’ve got to say, the biggest risk is probably that we’ve got enormous, vicious DINOSAURS as the main park attraction.” He pursed his lips and nodded to himself. “Yes, that’s probably the biggest. As for the second biggest…” he stroked his non-existent beard, “Yeah, second biggest is probably that there are vicious, man-eating dinosaurs in the park!”

No one quite knew how to react. Finally, Sergeant Jameson from Security spoke up. “Well, we have them behind fences…”

Davis cackled some more. “Oh yes! Let’s talk about those fences, shall we?” He dug through the pile of binders, throwing some of them onto the floor, till he found the one he was looking for. “This is a good starting point.” He showed everyone in the room a picture of the fence, with a ‘Danger: 10,000 volts’ sign hanging off of one of the wires. “Shall we discuss the fact that 10,000 volts is enough to kill a human, but that it doesn’t even seem to faze the creatures you’re trying to hold in? On the contrary, it only seems to anger them! Did no one ever test out different level of electricity to see what would actually affect these beasts through their incredibly thick skin? Hmmmmmmm?” He glared around the table before finally settling on Max Hiddelman from the Breeding department. “Or shall we discuss the fact that you threw up all of these fences to keep the dinosaurs back but didn’t bother putting anything up to stop humans from touching them? Raise your hands, how many of you have ever been to a zoo?”

Around the table, no one put their hands up. They’d all been to zoos, but didn’t particularly want to be a part of Mr. Davis’s off-the-rails presentation.

“Well, I’ve been to a few. Here, have a look.” He held up the binder, showing a kid climbing on a fence near a bear exhibit. And then another of a kid pressed up against the glass of an otter’s tank. Then another of a kid reaching through a fence trying to touch an elephant. “Did no one consider the possibility that we don’t want the guests touching these? We'll have a hundred dead kids in the first week!”

No one spoke up, so Davis went back to rifling through his binder. “Oh, here’s another good one!” He held up a photo of one of the fence’s emergency shut-off switches. “Who wants to take credit for this brilliant idea?”

All eyes turned to Paloma, eager for someone to blame. “It’s a huge liability issue,” she protested. “If someone did touch the fence as you say, then we…”

“Even if someone is turning it off for all of the right reasons," Davis cut her off, "Instead of, say, bored teenagers pulling a prank... But even if someone did touch the fence and needed the shutoff, then that person will be good and crispy by the time anyone ever makes it to this emergency shut-off. But people are just dumb enough to pull that handle anyway. And you know what that means? It means you’ve just gotten rid of the one meager barrier between your guests and the dangerous dinosaurs… at the very same time as the whole area will smell like cooking meat!” Most of the people made some rather unpleasant faces at that idea. “Won’t that be fun?”

“All right,” Don said, “We get the picture. You thi…”

“What should we discuss next?” Davis continued, completely ignoring Don. He held up another binder labeled ‘infrastructure.’ “Should we discuss the fact that nearly all of your critical systems have multiple points of failure? Probably the most significant of which is the fact that you have sub-standard generators with even further sub-standard redundant generators that wouldn’t produce enough power for a tenth of the park?”

“Mr. Davi..” Don tried to break in again.

“How about the fact that you expect to have thousands of people on the island at once, and only one way of exiting the island?” he held up another binder, this one with a large map of the island on the front. “Oh, and that one available port is across the damn island from all other facilities? Meaning in the event of disaster you’d have to rely on park infrastructure, which is crap, or walk through dinosaur-infested jungles? I couldn't design a worse evacuation plan if I tried!”

“Plea…” Paloma said.

“How about we discuss the fact that you have no good way of stopping some of your larger dinosaurs?” Standing now, he reached for the binder labeled ‘munitions.’ “Tranquilizers? You know basically nothing about these creatures, and you just assume that will work! We tried to tranquilize one of your Stegosauruses, and the needle broke off when it impacted the thing’s skin! What were we supposed to do if it turned and tried to eat us?”

“Actually,” Max chimed in, happy that the Breeding department could actually contribute to the discussion, “those are vegetarian, so hardly any danger at all.”

“Oh, that reminds me,” Mr. Davis said, finally acknowledging that someone else was talking. He planted his hands on the table and leaned over. “One really important thing that I need to mention: there are fucking DINOSAURS in the park!”