You Can Only Do So Much

I was finishing up breakfast when I heard the snap and crackle of time travel. My kitchen disappeared. I free-floated in the protoplasm of time.

Suddenly I was sitting at the solid gold breakfast table of Queen Nefertiti. The queen was eating pancakes. I understand. They’re delicious!

Queen Nefertiti said, “Who are you?”

I said, “Brooks Palmer, great time-traveler from the future.” It helps to say, “Great” with royalty, so they won’t automatically react and have you killed.

Queen Nefertiti said, “What saith the future?”

I said, “In the future, lightening will be tapped, allowing toast to be cooked automatically without fire.”

Queen Nefertiti said, “Ahhhh. And what will become of me?”

I said, “Your head will become an iconic bust, inspiring women all over the world for centuries to obsess and starve themselves in the quest for the perfect neck.”

Queen Nefertiti looked at me deeply. She said, “My husband Pharaoh Akhenaten died two years ago. I have known nothing but great loneliness since. Stay with me and I will make you king of all Egypt.”

I said, “If I hadn’t of just had breakfast…”

Queen Nefertiti sentenced me to death. I was brought out to the town square. My head was placed on the chopping block. I looked up at the palace window as Queen Nefertiti gazed at me with tears in her eyes. I don’t think there’s much you can say to someone to appease their deep sorrow.

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