Young Lara Croft was having the time of her life. It was her birthday, and Daddy had bought her a helicopter, a rocket launcher and lots of rare (and in some cases mythical) creatures to drive to extinction. It took her a few minutes to get the hang of flying and aiming at the same time, but soon she was roaring along.

"Wheeee!" she screamed in joy as a Vancouver Island Marmot, believed to be one of only 29 left in the world, exploded in a shower of meat and fur that spattered in the chopper's shadow. "That was totally wicked. When I grow up, I'm going to kill all the animals and raid a bunch of tombs and fight a dragon and have a movie with that Rimmer out of Red Dwarf as my butler."

Stting on the seat next to her, Lord Henshingley Croft patted his daughter's excited little head fondly. "Such fancy, child..."