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The tough part of being Prince Kong -- the protocol title the locals of Skull Island use to address me, intermingled with their ceremonial jeers and spears -- is whenever I'm on the royal turf of my birthright, I'm expected to rule.Sweat Home
Pictured, during five o'clock rush hour traffic, I direct the oncoming Tyrannosaurus rex and 3-foot cockroaches after their busy day's work, as they fail to yield to an elderly, two-story Scorpio-Pede with her assortment of limps and numerous orthopedic walkers.
I rule with an iron foot. Meanwhile, my left one searches about for a ship in the harbor.
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