“Thog?”

“Oggie?”

“We gotta make a list. Wait. Did we invent the concept of lists yet?”

“Yeah. Tuesday. Right after we gave the days names.”

“Awesome. So let’s just write down everything we’ve come up with so far.”

“Well, we haven’t come up with writing yet, so your plan’s already doomed for failure.”

“You know what I mean.”

“Do I?”

“I’ll start. We got language.”

“Language. Best idea we’ve had so far. Fire was a game-changer, but it’s a one-trick pony. Language goes everywhere. Get food with it, get laid with it, talk about who just got eaten.”

“Yeah. It’s not great, but it’s language, I guess.”

“Whaddya mean?”

“Our dialect isn’t very sophisticated, Oggie. You know we don’t even have a word for plinth?”

“We don’t have plinths, Thog. Why would we have the word for them?”

“Or catafalques.”

“I thought a catafalque was a plinth.”

“Maybe. Maybe not. Either way, our caveman talk is incapable of cleaving the two. We talk all primitive-like.”

“First of all: that’s Colonialist Linguistics and I’ll have none of it. Second: we literally invented talking six months ago, bro. Give it time.”

“You’re right, you’re right.”

“Make your list.”

“So we got fire and language. What else?”

“Clothes.”

“Good call, clothes. Remember how cold it used to get?”

“Freezing. Fire, language, clothes. Do shoes count as clothes?”

“Obviously. What else would they be? Furniture?”

“Have we invented furniture yet?”

“I got that rock I like to sit on.”

“That doesn’t count.”

“What would?”

“A credenza.”

“No.”

“Trundle bed.”

“C’mon.”

“Hope chest.”

“We have none of those things and you know it.”

“Then: no, Oggie, we have not invented furniture yet.”

“You’re a little bitch sometimes, Thog.”

“Well, I’m trying to make a list and you’re screwing around.”

“Healthy debate is the bedrock of society now and evermore.”

“Wait, I got something. Hitting animals with sticks.”

“I agree, but you’re being reductive. Expand the definition to ‘inflicting blunt and/or penetrating trauma to another via means above or outside the physical’ and you’re golden.”

“None of the animals have figured that out.”

“They didn’t have to. Everything but us has sabreteeth or can run really fast.”

“Good point. While we’re talking about the animals: I had an idea.”

“Hit me.”

“Okay, I don’t know what I’m gonna call it yet, but here’s the general concept. You know when we go egg-stealing?”

“Dude, love egg-stealing trips. Chance to get away from the hustle and bustle. Out in nature. Good for your soul.”

“And the eggs.”

“I fucking love eggs, Thog. You know that shit.”

“You’re an egg monster. Remember when we invented cooking the eggs?”

“HOLY SHIT, yes, I do. Gotta admit that I loved poking a hole in the shell and sucking them down raw.”

“Old school.”

“We’re old school, right. But cooking them? It’s like my dick was sucking its own dick in my mouth.”

“Is that good?”

“Yes.”

“Okee-dokee. But eggs don’t keep, Oggie.”

“If your idea is the refrigerator, I’m gonna be mad.”

“It’s not the refrigerator.”

“There’s just layers and layers of technological advances that need to come first, and I can’t discuss the subject again.”

“Can I talk?”

“Sure.”

“Eggs don’t keep. We have to eat the eggs, and then what, Oggie?”

“No more eggs, Thog.”

“No more eggs. Now here’s my idea: what if instead of stealing the eggs, we stole the birds. Then we bring them back to the village and when they lay eggs, we just take them.”

“Like the machine did to the people in The Matrix?”

“Kinda, yeah.”

“That’s fucked up, yo. Is this just because you don’t want to go on egg-stealing trips any more?”

“It has nothing to do with that.”

“I always thought we had fun.”

“It’s not about the trips. We can still steal the eggs, but we’ll also have a steady supply.”

“How do we keep the birds in the village?”

“Fence?”

“Birds. Birds. Birds.”

“Oh, right. Cage?”

“Better. How do you know the birds will lay eggs in cages?”

“I don’t. We’ll try it. If they die, we’ll eat them.”

“It’s a win-win. Or maybe we don’t even need cages. Just pen ’em in and cut off their wings.”

“Jeez. Savage. Can we do that?”

“Have we invented the concept of animal cruelty yet?”

“No.”

“Then we can do that.”

“Great. Oggie, this is a great idea. We’ll start with the chickens and move on to the other animals.”

“The other animals? Dude, everything’s ten-feet tall and–”

“Sabretoothed.”

“–sabretoothed. Let’s start with the birds. And we need a name for this concept.”

“What’s the most boring word you can think of?”

“Agriculture.”

“That’s what it’s called.”