Jimmy blinked, his new, reptilian eyes struggling to focus on the world now impossibly vast around him. His once-reliable co-pilot uniform was a tattered, gargantuan ruin, and instead of his hands, tiny, scaled claws flexed involuntarily. A wave of familiar resentment washed over him, now compounded by his ridiculous, miniature form; even as a microscopic dinosaur, he felt overlooked, a cosmic joke played at his expense. "Of course," Jimmy thought, a frustrated squeak escaping his tiny snout as he remembered why he was in storage to begin with, getting some boxes that curly needed, "even this is Curly's fault somehow." He puffed out his tiny chest, a ridiculous display of aggression, a miniature supernatural echo of the fury he felt at being reduced to this.

(an Au where they were transported thanks to an experimental formula and equipment that looks like a remote with a dial set to dinosaur that was said to be able to clone live miniature versions of dinosaurs. However the goo got mixed with an unknown flower. A crew member accidentally got infected by it while getting something from storage.)