Time Travel
Sometime last year, I was standing on the toilet seat when I fell and hit my head. That's when I came up with the idea for a pepperoni and fennel sandwich. It was while eating that very same sandwich that I came up with the idea for a time travel machine.
I made it from bits and bobs around the house, mostly scraps from my failed anti-gravity attempts. The metal colander on top is just for decoration.
I tested out the time machine on my dog, Banjo, whom I later saw in the background of an old Marx Brothers movie. I took that as a positive test result. Banjo seemed happy.
The first thing I did was go back in time to my sophomore year of high school. I thought I'd learn guitar and use my knowledge of today's music scene to become a famous indie rocker. I played rudimentary versions of Arcade Fire and TV on the Radio at my school's talent show, and it totally worked!
My girlfriend's hotter friend finally took notice of me. A VHS tape of the talent show made its way to the record labels (thanks, Mom!), and I got signed. I quickly became famous by recording covers of songs that hadn't been written yet. Who would have guessed people in the mid-90s would enjoy LCD Soundsystem so much?
I became a rock star and a fashion plate. I knew the trend of men wearing scarves was coming up eventually; so I went ahead and brought it back early. Also, I made everybody skip the bellbottom resurgence and go directly to boot cut jeans. You're welcome.
But, it didn't last. Eventually, I ran out of groundbreaking new work to steal. All I had left was some Kanye stuff, and let's be honest---I can't pull off bravado.
I ended up becoming kind of a joke. Well, not a joke, but... when people bought my album on Amazon, it suggested they might also like the Red Hot Chili Peppers. That’s when I knew something had gone terribly, terribly wrong.
So, I came back to the present and tried again.
I decided this time to go back to the Middle Ages and weasel my way into becoming a famous inventor. I brought my iPod with me and a digital alarm clock and whatever else fit in my pockets. I figured I could reverse engineer most of that stuff once I got there. I had managed to build my own time machine for cripe's sake!
At first, the king thought I was an evil sorcerer, because I happened to arrive during a solar eclipse. Also, I had told some maidens I was an evil sorcerer to try to impress them. But, then he ended up being a big fan of Angry Birds, and things were cool between us.
Anyhoo, I hadn't really planned ahead for my electrical needs. I'd brought back diagrams for a generator, but I forgot that the medieval times didn't have gasoline. FYI, lamp oil is a quick way to destroy a blacksmith-made generator.
When the Kindle conked out halfway through the King's reading of The Girl Who Kicked the Hornet's Nest, I high tailed it out of there.
What followed was a series of wacky misadventures. I don't remember much of it, because I messed up the time continuum pretty bad. Essentially, if you think of time as a piece of string, I wadded it up and tied a bunch of knots in it. I can't fully explain the butterfly effect, but somehow we ended up with giant killer butterflies for a while.
Now, because of my self-admitted bumbling goofishness, the present is overrun by anthropomorphic mole people. And, when I say the following I don't mean to come across as a specist: but, they are damn dirty. They are! They are covered in dirt.
So, I'm trying to go back to the past to put stuff right. And, if I become famous or beloved in the process, so be it. That's the price I pay for caring.
My first step is to go back and un-kill Hitler and try out a few different ways of re-killing. Mix and match, you know? Time travel is more of an art that a science.
Well, wish me luck.
