Sucker I removed from Armageddon is growing

Dear Tim, I am a great admirer of your posts. But imagine the torrent of emotion I experienced when a notification with the title: ‘Sucker I removed from Armageddon is growing’ appeared in my mail box and it turned out NOT to be one of yours. Apart from the natural disappointment I felt, having had my hopes of some less than sane interlude dashed, there was the confusion and general pain of it all. Ah, Tim. It was a bad day. The post turned out to be about…..well, that doesn’t matter really. Actually, if you can guess without looking it up, I will give you a prize. But the point is – such a good title going a begging. Maybe you could see your way to re-write it? Pretty please? Sincerely, Deirdre Morrison

Dear Deirdre, luckily the following thing happened:

Last week my buddy Dave called me up all excited.  Something about the discovery of a lifetime and that I had to come over right away.

“Are you prepared to feast your eyes on the greatest invention in modern history?” he asked as we headed to the basement?

“Yes,” I lied nervously. I actually hadn’t done any preparation for such a moment.

“Then take a look,” Dave dramatically pulled down a sheet that had been covering a large box, “at this!”

“Aww cool,” I said, trying to act excited, “a sheet that covers boxes.”

“No!” he said, “it’s a working time machine!” Dave opened a door revealing a chamber.  “Tim, the whole of history is at our fingers tips with a simple push of a button.  We are on the cusp of a new…”

Dave went on for a while but I had no idea what he was saying at that point because my favorite commercial, the commercial for Band-Aids, was on a nearby TV.

“Hang on a second, “ I cut Dave off.  “I love this commercial.”

“Dude, I’m showing you the greatest invention of all time and you want to watch commercials?!” Dave seemed upset.

“It’s not even a good commercial!” he complained.

“Great, now I missed it because you were talking,” I became visibly upset.

“I just invented a time machine!”

“I just wanted to hear the jingle,” I said. “I am stuck on Band-Aid brand cause Band-Aid’s stuck on the following things – me.”

“Wha… that’s not even how it goes!” Dave said.

“Yes it is!” I argued.

“No it isn’t” he replied.

“Yes…it…is!”

“No it’s not, it doesn’t say ‘stuck on the following things”

“Yes it does.”

“No it doesn’t.  You wouldn’t say ‘the following things’ if you only list one thing.  Now listen, I have a time machine and enough magnesium to get us to any point in human history and back at least once,” Dave tried changing the subject.

“Great, let’s use the time machine to find out who’s right,” I said stepping into the chamber.

“Tim, no!” he shouted, as I tried to set the timer to go back 30 seconds in time.  “We have TIVO!  We have TIVO!”

Dave batted my hand away from the controls but accidentally pushed a level forward that shot us into the future.

After a loud thud, we opened the chamber door.  Dave and I looked around in astonishment.  The entire Earth was quaking.  There were mushroom clouds on the horizon and everything was on fire.

“We’ve arrived at Armageddon,” Dave said stunned.  “The end of the world.”

“December 21^st, 2012” I read the dial on the chamber. “No one could have predicted that.”

Dave and I tried to talk to someone but everyone kept getting raptured.  Finally, I managed to grab a hold of a guy’s leg as he was floating up.

“Can you tell me how the Band-Aid jingle goes?” I asked.

“Tim!” Dave scolded me, then turned to the stranger.  “Listen, we’re from the past…”

“The past?” the stranger gasped.  “Thank goodness!  Listen you have to warn everyone!”

“Really? Everyone?” I complained.

“Tim,” we’re running out of time,” Dave shouted. “We have to get back!”

Dave and I jumped into the chamber.  I pulled the stranger inside.

“Wait, I’m getting raptured you idiots, I…” the stranger protested but soon we were back to the present.

“Okay, we can still stop the end from coming,” the stranger paced nervously around Dave’s basement. “We can still save the world.”

“How?” Dave asked.

“Alright, first sign,” the stranger looked Dave in the eye. “Facebook is going to start offering this new thing called the Timeline.  Do NOT switch over to that!”

“Too late, it’s already out,” Dave said.

“Oh no, no, no, no, not good,” the stranger said. “We have to go back further than that.”

“I may have enough magnesium for one more trip, but it can only be two people,” Dave said.

“You guys go,” I said. “I got a bunch of stuff I got to do.”

“Alright,” the Stranger said as he and Dave climbed into the chamber. “We need to get to the mid 1990’s.”

“Terrible idea,” I said.  “The 1990’s was the golden age of sarcasm.  You tell them the world is going to end on December 21^st, 2012, they’re going to reply ‘thanks for the spoiler alert.’ I’ve got a better place for you guys to go.”

I reached my hand into the chamber and set the dial.

“Tim! No!” Dave yelled.

I set the date to the 16^th century.

“Wait, that’s the ancient Mayan civilization era!” the stranger’s eye’s widened.

“Tim, they already know!!  They already know!!!!” Dave shouted as they vanished.

A couple of days later I went to the library to check out a book on ancient Mayan art, and inside was a photo of a carving, depicting Dave and the stranger tied to a stake surrounded by fire.  The picture disturbed me deeply.  The proportions were all off.  The stranger was at least a good foot taller than Dave.

“That sucker I pulled from Armageddon is growing,” I shook my head.  While I was at the library, I looked up the Band-Aid jingle.  Turns out I was wrong.  If Dave found out he wouldn’t let me live it down.

I built a new time machine, based off of Dave’s plans and headed to 1952.  I persuaded the head of the Band-Aid corporation to change his jingle to add the words ‘the following things.’

When I returned to the present I found out that Band-Aid had gone out of business in 1953, due to the jingle.  Also, Dave was still around.  It turned out as a child Dave suffered from a cut and developed an infection that could have been prevented by a Band-Aid.  That infection damaged the part of the brain that makes you want to invent things.

Turns out I suffered a similar infection that affected the part of the brain that makes you remember crucial dates and important events.

-Tim Kochenderfer, May 18^th, 1862

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