Thoughts by Crazy Carl
Disclaimer: Dave is not a figment of my imagination; he is pure evil.
Now some of you may ask where the hell I have been lately. Some of you may think I was on some grand adventure doing amazing feats. Some of you may think I was on vacation. Some of you may think that tofu is edible. I think those people are on crack. Well, it seems Tyler was rather busy nowadays what with his new online comic and the numerous projects he has to do for school. So needless to say I have been assisting him so he doesn�t have an aneurysm.
Tyler as frequently asked me about the future and how it is. Frequently, I must tell him that anything that I tell him may change the timeline and have terrible repercussions. One day Tyler said, �How the hell would you know that would happen if you haven�t tried?� I asked Tyler how many times he has seen Back to The Future. Tyler was stunned for a bit but then countered, �That was just a movie, you tit!�
I realized I had to tell Tyler a story, one of pain and sadness...One of tragedy and intrigue... I had to tell Tyler of his/my �first� wife that I married on a day that never happened. We had our honeymoon in a place that no longer exists. About the beer from the reception that I drank that never was in my belly...
I met her one night under a silvery moon. It was a chilly April night; I was feeling rather fuzzy, as I had drunken several Coronas that night. It was my anniversary of my birth into this world as Crazy Carl, and my humble butler had flown me to the mainland so I could celebrate with the locals. I came upon a quaint pub called �The Fuzzy Pickle�. For some odd reason it reminded me of English class, but I walked in regardless. I sat down and ordered a triple Sawhorse, no ice. She fixed me my drink and our eyes met; it was confusion at first sight. �Whoa I think I know you!�, I slurred. �You were in here last week, Carl�, she replied. So that�s how she knew how to make my drink. �You�re beautiful marry me�, was my reply.
The very next week we were Mr. and Mrs. Crazy Carl, Esquire. I brought her to my island where she started her own pub near the port. It was very popular and she made more than enough money. In fact I started a small village on my island as I realized I enjoyed the company of the patrons. Everything was happy and good� that is until I had invented my time-traveling John Deere tractor.
The advent of the time-traveling tractor spelt doom for my life. With my happy marriage and all, I felt my sanity returning and I started having a conscience. I wanted to make things proper when I had proposed to the wife, not in the drunken haze that it had been. So I worked hard to invent a method of time travel. The tractor was a result. I sent a few basketballs back in time to test, and then a spare midget I had purchased last month. When I was convinced that my journey would be safe one, I did a little trip to the past. I accidentally ended up starting the French Revolution, but that�s another story for another time. My second trip was the real one. I had to make sure I made things right, so I traveled to that fuzzy, silvery, chilly April night. Little did I know that in the future of my present, there are people who stop these kinds of things.
The Enforcers had detected my first trip, but were unable to trace it to where I had been and what I had done. It alerted them to my ability to travel in time and my second excursion was followed. Now you must note, the Enforcers are American in their beliefs so they think the fastest way is the best way, and in the cases of time travelers violence is the fastest way. They busted in on the bar just as I had finished proposing to my �wife� properly. They pointed their proto-argon guns at my head and pulled the trigger. I was still alive, I saw stood there in horror as I saw my �wife� lying at my feet, lifeless... and headless. She had jumped to take the shot instead of me; her love for me was so great. I felt the rage burn inside of me; I grabbed three coasters and threw them at the necks of the Enforcers decapitating them instantly. ( Yes, it is possible let this be a message to people to behold the power of cheese) I was about to jump on my tractor to avert this mess when I noticed the blinking timer on the leader of the Enforcers� suit. I knew what it was, for I had just invented it two weeks earlier to accompany my tractor. I called it the �White-out� bomb. I jumped on the tractor and rode back to my time as fast as I could.
The White out bomb was something I had created if I messed the timeline up real bad. It was designed to erase the entire existence of anything in its blast radius. The only reason I had survived was because I had stopped my past self from reaching the mainland. These Enforcers must have somehow been created by me, or somehow gotten a hold of my technology. I dismantle the tractor right then and there, but in the timeline I had returned to, my �wife� never existed and I had never been married. I believed there was nothing I could do to change this as my �wife� will never be born and the Fuzzy Pickle will never exist. I don�t quite realize why the time shift has not affected me, probably because I was the cause of it. Physical time travel is something I will never attempt again.
Tyler was very stunned about this tale, and has never asked about the future since. He is quite stunned at the fact that he/I actually got married� in a way. So let this be a lesson to all those people out there in the world, when you�re bitching about you wish you could go back and change things, chances are you will forget to look both ways when crossing the street and get hit by a truck.