Oh, joy! A package, it must be my Secret Santa gift! With such effeminate handwriting, surely it must be Glowbelly or Doopa or Mystie or Sadie or some totally hot babe of whom I've forgotten.
FUCK. It's just ZBF. Apparently he likes Lisa Frank almost as much as he has wet dreams over a video game character. This is going to suck.
(Addresses blocked to defend the innocent and those who have too many chromosomes.)
Wonderful, an AM/FM tuner that must have costed $12 in 1998. 'Tis the Season, you know. I wonder how well it works right now? I guess I'll never find out, since no headphones were included.
What's this, something else??
It's a gummy sticky finger ball. ZBF has sticky fingers? Who would have guessed.
This is going to require some serious thinking for an adventure.
Thinking...
STILL THINKING, you FUCKS. Christ, look what I have to work with.
That's it!!
I'll use my cunning to transform this into something
awesome. The tuner, that is. The sticky fingers are dead to me.
Disassembly begins!
Delicate repairs!
Intricate operations!
No longer is it a lame-ass AM/FM tuner. It's now a
Theochronomuter. (That's Greek for "God/Time-Talker", I'm so clever.)
God! God! Are you there?
--
Yes, Seth. This is God. Your device is a success. You are contacting me because your Christmas gift totally sucked. I understand.
You know about this Austin fuck and how lame he is? ...Oh right, I guess that's what makes you God. Why is he so lame?
--
Not even I know that, Seth. I mean, shit, somebody owes him $40 and he thinks that makes him Elie Fucking Wiesel.
So, are you willing to do anything about it?
--
Oh, I already did. I made him as much of a miserable fuck as is possible. Believe me, Seth, I stretched tbe bounds of possibilities when I made him that miserable. Remember how he insists he has a great life because he gets good grades in high school? That's classic, you know.
So, I can't have any physical pain inflicted on him or anything?
--
Oh, you can do that yourself. You can talk to the PAST with that device, remember? Use your imagination!
Oh my, I have an idea!
Past! Past! Are you there, Past??
--
Yes, this is the past speaking. Assuming that you're coming from some time later than Sunday, December 3, 2006. Where are you coming from? We are in Belleville, Illinois.
Perfect! See, I need to talk to Belleville at your time period for IMPORTANT CHRONO-BUSINESS. There's this kid named Austin in your city and your time. He his bound to wreak havoc on the world in my time.
--
Surely you don't mean Austin Snider. The only havoc he wreaks is when he reeks of sweat from forgetting to shower after an extensive bout of playing video games and being an all-around bitch. Oh, when is your time? I'm curious.
The FUTURE,
dumbass. Anyways, can you do me a favor? The FUTURE depends on it.
--Umm. I hope so. I mean... umm. What is it? Do we have to kill him?
Kill him? Hell no, he doesn't deserve the sweet embrace of death! Just shoot his eye out with a BB Gun, alright?
--
What the fuck? I mean. Umm. How's tomorrow? Consider it done.
And it was a Very Merry Christmas, Indeed