I got in my time-travel machine and hit the Shuffle button. I was taken to London in 1938.

On my arrival, I heard the sounds, “Confound it!” I got out and realized I’d landed on a rose garden.

A tall and distinguished older gentleman said, “You have utterly destroyed my prize-winning Tudor roses!”

I apologized. A tear fell from the gentleman’s eye.

In a broken voice he said, “Eighteen years, trial and error, until finally, success…only to have it dashed by your bastardly ways.”

I expressed my regret. Then I said, “Hey, aren’t you British Prime Minister Neville Chamberlain?”

He said, “Yes, I am he.”

I said, “Let’s just say that soon, this will be the least of your worries.”

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