Follow along, it ain’t that tough. Spritle spends time in the boring 14th century, learns a lot about donkey crap. Goes to where HG Wells will be born and leaves a note, carved in stone. Dies. HG Wells is born. Gets note. Writes book about time travel. Dies. Frederick (don’t call me Freddie) van der Waalstonawiczenstein is born. Creates time machine. Goes back in time to visti HG Wells (of course). Learns of my note. Goes back in time to await my arrival in 14th century.
When I arrive, they (Fred and HG) are waiting for me.
We travel a few days ahead of Dec 18, 2000 and watch the end of the “party”. As Stargazer drops the force field and thanks her guests for their attendance, HG, Freddie and I open up a big can of snowball ass whuppin’ all over SG with some secret “in-the-future” recipe for snowballs.
We then travel back to 18 December, 2000 and they drop me off, inside the fortress, in a hot tub with lots of cute chickies!
Now, I sit smugly knowing what will become of stargazer after the party, and order another hot toddie and a shoulder rub.
Chicken Lover, there is no such thing as magical forcefield-penetrating snow. 'Cause I say so, and if anyone brings it into existence, I magically delete it.
And who says I’m going to open the forcefield, spritle? Remember how I can decide what/who gets through? I can just let people through without opening up the whole forcefield; they can just walk through, magically. So you must have seen the future in an alternate universe! Hahahaha!
::He looks around to see who threw it.::
(BTW stargazer, even though you are my enemy, I offer this piece of advice. Create a magic illusion that will confuse spritle, HG, and Freddie so that they think the’re hitting the fortress when really they’re not.)
BRRRRRRR! 67F outside!?!?! No wonder I’m freezing!
::Goes inside to get robe to throw over bathing suit, warm fuzzy slippers and space heater for the porch::
::dumps rest of Mimosa into the potted palm (well, it is now!)::
::fixes very large Irish Coffee::
::returns to rocking chair::
:: Camera pulls back, way back, seriously back. No no, back further. View widens to one showing the earth from orbit. Coming into view, we see a very stereotypical flying saucer.
Kodos: Foolish earthlings, destroying each other with the frozen water orbs.
Kang: Yes, and look at the primitive techniques they use. Magical force fields, time travel, what next - howler monkey cannons?
:: Just then, sprittle, H.G. Wells, and Freddie appear in the back of the ship
<THWACK>
:: Both Kodos and Kang are tentacle deep in snowballs. Mr. Wells looks oddly happy.
::Looks around, wondering where his magic forcefield-penetrating snow has gone. Shrugs. Finds howler monkey cannon half buried in a snowdrift. Digs it out and points it at the fortress. Ready, aim, fire!
Howler monkey sours through the air, howling, and splats ineffectually against the forcefield. Chicken Lover grins and reloads.::
JUST BECAUSE I AM HERE IN FLORIDA (SUNNY AND CLEAR FLORIDA, I MAY ADD) AND TEASING YOU MERCILESSLY ABOUT THE SNOW DOES NOT MEAN THAT YOU HAVE TO DROP THE FREAKING MERCURY ON ME!!!
It was freaking-thirty-freaking-four degrees when I woke up this morning. My heat is still off (broke the other day and the landlady is out of town), and everything was fine until this morning. The cat was tiptoeing on the tile (no carpeting) floor. I had frost on the car windshield.
The 7-11 was out of coffee, fergawdssakes!!
::goes inside for more blankets::
::changes out of bathing suit into sensible undergarments, two pairs of socks, sweat pants, t-shirts, polo shirt, sweatshirt (with polo shirt collar showing - hey, I can still be fashionable), scarf, gloves, woolen beret, sneakers::
::makes a couple gallons of hot chocolate::
::locates large bottle of Captain Morgan::
::settles back to curse the cold::
Aw, shoot, just when I was about to comment (on the heels of my “Crush Thread” confession) about how good screech-owl looks in a swimsuit, Old Man Winter slaps Florida silly and she goes and bundles up. That’s what I get for being a slow typist.
:: Rummages… ::
Now WHERE’D I put that sun room? Ms. Owl, if you step in here and change back into that swimsuit, I promse to throw away that snowball in the freezer…
Okay, I hate to waste a good snowball… Hey, Wolvie c’mere a minit.
HG, before moving on makes one BFbatch of snowballs and launches them rapidfire like at Chicken Lover.
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He hollers from the distance, “You can’t just stand there and comment on the snowball fight without being involved!”
Spritle smiles. Ah yes, this is playing out just as I had forseen. All except this HG thing. What effect will this turn have on the future?
Hey spritle, you still owe me for destroying my time machine. Let’s see there’s parts, labor, research, and extra for wanton destruction of my property. That should come close to 50 million dollars. So, when do I expect a check?
