It had
been two years since Keith completed his time machine. Well, either two or a thousand; depending on your measurement
techniques. Keith sat in the local pub (it wasn’t really a pub, but Keith still
called it one to comfort himself) playing with a beer mat (not strictly true,
the object he was fiddling with was neither for beer nor a mat, he didn’t
really understand what they were for – beside decoration - if anything, they were doilies). Keith twiddled his thumbs and looked at a clock-esque
thing that was on the wall; a message appeared on it reading, “Keith, your date
is now fifteen minutes late.” Keith sighed; staring into the middle-distance, he
thought over the series of events that had led him to this situation.
…
There’s
not a lot of people end up stranded in the future (or present; or past
depending on when you are reading this); unfortunately, Keith was, is and will
be one of them. Keith used to be a fantastic young scientist, but he didn’t
look like it. There were three main reasons for this; firstly, he didn’t look
like a scientist – no lab coats, nah, a t-shirt and jeans were fine for Keith;
secondly, he didn’t look young, all the stress of his profession added at least
ten years to his face and lastly, he most certainly did not look fantastic.
Being a
depressed, narcissistic introvert before
it was cool certainly wasn’t as good as you might think; Keith’s scientific
career peaked well before this whole ‘geek chic’ nonsense. But nothing would
stand in Keith’s way; he would get a
Nobel Prize! If there was one thing loftier than Keith’s ambitions, it was his
talent. Keith excelled in every practice he tried, even without trying (well,
apart from anything that involved either socialising or physical activity).
Anyway,
I’m sure you’ve gathered that Keith used his expertise to build a time machine
in an attempt to receive a Nobel Prize; in which case, you would be correct.
That’s exactly what he did. Although, there’s one factor that slowed Keith
considerably – building a time machine is reeeaaally
haaard; I mean, really. D’you ever build one? No? That’s ’cause it’s hard.
Really. But Keith did it nonetheless, finding motivation in a trophy, fame,
fortune and perhaps even a romantic partner.
I won’t
bore you with the details of how this time machine actually worked (partially
because I’m lazy and partially because I’m not smart enough), all you need to
know is that it did. Keith may have sacrificed his twenties but he was certain
that all of his sacrifices had been worthwhile. The moment he unveiled his
creation to the scientific community was almost as earth-shattering as you
would think – he would get his Nobel Prize the very next day.
…
Keith
shuffled in his seat irately; he’d never been on a date before and it was
starting to look like she had ditched him. Keith sighed and looked at the menu,
for some reason this prompted him to remember every mistake he had ever made in
his life.
…
Keith
didn’t accept his Nobel Prize quietly; quite the opposite, in fact; he had a
huge ceremony – more akin to the Oscars
or something. He even had an acceptance speech planned (in which he would name
and shame all those bullies from school who made fun of him for being smarter
than them) needless to say; Keith’s ego had got the better of him. If only you
could see him that day; he made an absolute fool of himself, but nobody
noticed, since they were captivated by his studies. The entire crowd could only
focus on one thing; the time machine. When would they see one? All the science
was sound and the technology surprisingly affordable.
Silence
fell over the crowd when Keith pulled a small, grubby object from the back
pocket in his jeans. “And here it is.” He said. The audience just sat there,
mouths gaping; a lady in the third row fainted and a fat man three miles away
burped very loudly. Keith smiled slyly at the crowd and whispered, “See you
next week.”
I’m
sure you figured that they didn’t see
him next week. Keith mistakenly travelled a thousand years into the future.
Now, I know what you’re thinking; “BUT WHY DOESN’T HE JUST GO BACK IN TIME
AGAIN?” Well, the reasons are twofold; firstly, he didn’t really want to, since
nobody really liked him; secondly, IT
DOESN’T WORK LIKE THAT.
Keith
actually responded very well to his predicament, until he realised the he had
ben presumed dead a thousand years and now all his work was public domain. So
Keith did the only logical thing; he became an alcoholic. He actually spent all
his time in the pub, using his time machine to skip past the pub’s closing
times. That isn’t really news, though; all the drunks in the future do this.
Keith
became something of a local celebrity and grew to be known as ‘the drunk from a
thousand years ago’. It wasn’t a very
good nickname, but people are less creative in the future. Keith had been
living like this for quite a while (there’s no point delving into specifics, it
changes depending on who you ask), when the bartender took sympathy upon him
and set him up with his cousin (the bartender’s cousin, not Keith’s).
…
So,
that takes us up to now (well, the future, but you know what I mean). Keith
looked at the bartender, who shrugged. Keith sighed and stood up, plans of
sleeping on a park bench circulating around his mind. Keith was actually kind
of relieved that this had happened; he wasn’t looking forward to this date.
Just as
Keith was putting his coat on, a woman suddenly appeared in front of him. “Oh,
hello!” she said, warmly and excitedly, “I’m Cassie, you must be Keith!” Keith
looked shocked and Cassie looked at the clock, which read; “Cassie, you are
forty-five minutes late for your date.” Cassie shouted a swear word that doesn’t
exist yet. “Well, that’s the last time I use a time machine from poundland,” she
sighed.
Keith
smiled. He had just noticed that she was wearing a T-shirt with Boba Fett
pushing a katamari on it. Perhaps this wasn’t going to be so bad after all.
THE END
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