“Boy that adventure sure was a hoot!” Dora said, laughing, to her talking monkey, Boots. “Sure was,” he replied. “Too bad about Swiper, though.” As gently the waves rocked their boat to and fro. “Yeah,” Dora said, “But I guess he had it coming. Anyway, I was tired of microwave ramen.” So after a laugh, they consulted Map, Their anthropomorphic nav-on-tap As Dora took another look Checking his readings against her guidebook. “Soon we will reach the end of our quest. The island we seek, where the Great Cholo rests.” “But Dora,” said Boots, “Far be it from me to say, But since when do we need a boat to reach LA?” “Not A cholo…the GREAT CHOLO,” she said with derision. Then, “Wait, Boots. Look! On the horizon.” And there it was, risen up from the sea A vomitous collision of riotous topography. One hundred twenty-six degrees west of Prime Meridian They approached a geometry most non-Euclidian. “What is this guidebook?” Boots voice began to crack As Dora produced it from her backpack. “I got it at last year’s San Diego Comic-con. My very own copy of the Necronomicon.” The primate gibbered in dumb fascination, “That’s Taco Bell Chihuahua’s incoherent Spanish translation!” At this inopportune moment, from Backpack’s side pocket One of the explorer stars shot out like a rocket Bouncing out onto the chaotic shore Activating some sinister, inner crypt door. And a darkness after aeons came terribly to light. I guess this time the stars were right. The boat's inhabitants, terror-bound froze As the hulking, eldritch monstrosity rose Against a Cyclopean backdrop and skyline now starry A creature half dragon and half calamari. “Idiota pendeja!” Boots yelled, “What did you do? That’s a poor translation for ‘Great Cthulhu!” “Dios mio,” she could only meekly mutter As she faced a foul terror most utter. “K’cholo no swiping…uh…cha chuy no swiping?” Her annoying voice piping “Koo koo ka choo no killing?” she squeaked As body was ripped and consciousness tweaked. Her monkey watching with mild indignation Dora the Explorer’s complete disintegration. But a terrible crying, screaming, thumping Issued from the dragon-squid-dog-pony-something. The Great Old One’s wrath retreating in shame Back to R’lyeh from whence it came. The Earth’s second chance stemmed from just one fact: The spicy burritos Dora had backpacked.