Hmm…someone drop Lois from Lex’s balcony?
In Utopia, time travel had never been particularly popular. The present was perfect, the reasoning went, so why bother going to the past?
The future, by contrast wasn’t any different from the present, so it wasn’t very entertaining either, other than for the temporary novelty of meeting yourself.
Oh my. No wonder Tempus wants to blow out other people’s brains.
Unfortunately, he hadn’t realized that even fifty years before there had still been devices sold assembly required. Apparently the company had thought that the adventurous types who wanted to go back in time would be more than willing to put the device together themselves.
And we all know how clumsy Utopians are.
He stood up and slid into the seat. The thing was designed to look like a stationary bicycle; something he was assured from his reading was quite common in the era he was going to. It had the advantage of being something that was often purchased but almost never used.
The fact that later models had gotten cynical and included hanger for clothing hadn’t helped the confusion.
The button was there; he hesitated, then set the program for ten minutes in the future.
[…]
It was almost ten minutes before he could move on his own.
Any reasonable person would submit themselves to the caregivers to be examined;
They have professional caregivers in the future?
Yet somehow he didn’t go to the caregivers. For the first time he didn’t want to do what society asked of him.
Oooh! The birth of Tempus
John Tempus swore eternal vengeance on the IKEA company, with their unreadable instructions and promises of parts that wouldn’t fall into crevices and cause disaster.
He wouldn’t be the only one who got screwed.
Another hilarious piece!
Michael