Alphabet of Regret - T is for Time

Professor Ezekiel Alphonse Horatio McFlurryphontos gazed out upon the world and found it ... meh. He decided it would do. Since it had to. Thanks to his own machinations, in fact. It had happened like this:

The Professor ran after Gargantua, once a boy known as Jebediah Sucrose Klienschtop and now a rampaging giant monster. Yes, technically the transformation had been the Professor's fault but why place blame? The truth of the moment was that the Professor intended to stop the monster.

And he did. A neural stabilizer here, a blast from the Imagi-fire helmet there and soon enough little Jebediah Sucrose Klienschtop, also recently known as Gargantua, ceased to be a problem. Which was one problem down. However, the resulting collateral damage became an issue. Professor Ezekiel Alphonse Horatio McFlurryphontos found himself hunted.

And so he ran. Well, he wouldn't have called it running, per se. It was more akin to a gentle absconding into the night. A retreat, if you would. Yes, retreats are wonderful things full of spas and meetings and coffee. Now, the Professor's retreat, it is admitted, mostly consisted of trees and sleeping out doors and avoiding dogs - but the idea stands.

After a week or so, the Professor grew tired of running. So, armed with only: his wits, a laser pistol, the Imagi-fire helmet, twelve stun capsules, one miniature Brontosaurus named Sal, and a mostly bullet proof lab coat (never tested), the Professor made his way back to his lab.

The police were, of course, surrounding it, but that would not daunt one such as Professor Ezekiel Alphonse Horatio McFlurryphontos! Much. And so, after allowing Sal, the miniature brontosaurus, to confuse and confound the Police, the Professor found himself back in his lab, wondering what to do. Clearly everything had gone too far, but it was no time for regret. It was time for action!

And so the Professor acted. He fired up his experimental Intra-quantum trans-spatial time bassoon and blew a C-Sharp. The note interfered with local space-time and the Professor found himself in the past. Thankfully not too far in the past, nor too close. This would be, he smiled, perfect.

Quickly he rushed outside to deal with a few problems. If he could stop some disasters before they occurred then he could become a hero instead of a reviled ... he did hate the fact he was reviled. Why should be he reviled? Minorly disliked perhaps but... it didn't matter now! He could fix it! He could fix it all!

Over days and weeks and months, the Professor tried all sorts of things, but none of them worked. He would try and stop an event and the world would shift as if rubber and realign so that the event still happened and his work was for nothing. Cursing, the Professor kicked a can across the street and went inside his newly hidden lab.

The can skittered gently into the road. The car that ran over the can popped a small hole in a tire. The tire gave out as a flat twenty miles outside of town. The man driving the car tried to walk to the next town so that he might find a mechanic. The snake that bit that man had no clue why the man was there, and didn't really care either way. Still, free of intent, the universe decided to play dice with itself. Non-causal space-time quark-masturbation is a lesser known habit of the universe, but like many things it has been assumed by certain higher-species to simply be embarrassed. Regardless, the effects were wide ranging and anything but subtle.

Professor Ezekiel Alphonse Horatio McFlurryphontos continued about his days but started to notice changes. He couldn't place why, at first, but more and more people looked at him in a new light. They consulted him, asked for his help and thanked him when he was finished.

Respect! Power! Fame! These were the things that the Professor wanted and now found himself possessing! Along with a 6 year old badger. The Professor possessed it, trying to convince the badger that the it was a ferret. He could not be sure the possession worked, but he felt hopeful. Still! That had nothing to do with this sudden, and glorious, rise to prominence!

Except. Well. The things we wish for, and all of that. The Professor found himself staying up late, forgetting to shave and generally having no time to plan his experiments properly. Instead people came to him to fix their woes and solve the the equations of humanity itself. It was world-changing work, to be sure, but it wasn't the work the Professor wanted to do. No, he wanted to work on a new lightning collector, a self-referential dog replicator and perhaps a new style of sneaker. He had no time.

Though he had everything he thought he had once wanted the Professor came to regret it all. He sunk into a deep depression and lashed out at both Sal, the miniature Brontosaurus and the badger that still had no name (though the Professor leaned toward naming it Harry).

He considered trying to return to his proper moment in time and to see what would happen then, but he could not. The links to that time stream had been broken and there was no going back, once you've gone back, as he now knew. No. Stuck in a time event-horizon that he himself had created, the Professor grew despondent.

And then it occurred to him.

Yes! Of course!

He could use his new-found power and fame to fool the world and take over Zimbabwe. Once he had Zimbabwe he could ensure no one bothered him. This plan seemed foolproof and much simpler than letting annoying phone calls go to voicemail. Pfah! Voicemail! Who needed it when you had Zimbabwe? Exactly, so!

Grabbing up his essential tools, and Sal, but leaving Harry the badger behind, the Professor went out into the night to take over Zimbabwe, knowing that if he failed, the world would probably thank him for something, or congratulate him on his cunning and invite him to tea where they would serve cucumber sandwiches.

Professor Ezekiel Alphonse Horatio McFlurryphontos hated cucumber sandwiches. And so, on the back of such rushed desires the fate of a country, a man, and possibly the rest of the world, was written. All would come to regret giving the Professor what he had wanted.

How dare they? Indeed!

Comments

[Mr Lady]

Amongst our weaponry are such diverse elements as wits, a laser pistol, the Imagi-fire helmet, twelve stun capsules, one miniature Brontosaurus named Sal, and a mostly bullet proof lab coat (never tested).

Seriously, I love this so bad it hurts. Well played, sir.

[Adam P. Knave]

Thanks! I really wanted to do a sequel to the last one of these I did, glad it worked!

[TwoBusy]

Somewhere... Harry plots badgeresque revenge.

[Adam P. Knave]

dun Dun DUN.

[Mr Lady]

I actually did the fist-bump the air thing and mumbled "yesssss" when I read the first line of this post.

I think once you finish the series, I'm printing these out for my kids. They will LOVE them.

[Adam P. Knave]

That makes my MONTH.

[Susan (Trout Towers)]

I always read that "McFuzzypants."

Will there be another, please?

[Adam P. Knave]

When I read it aloud sometimes I do, too. Which is a problem as I will be reading these at the show Friday. Whoops. As to a 3rd? Trilogies? Pfft! Who does those? Yes. I am being coy.

[Palinode]

"Respect! Power! Fame! These were the things that the Professor wanted and now found himself possessing! Along with a 6 year old badger."

Stop writing about my life.

[Adam P. Knave]

Not until you return the badger.