
Mike was just a regular guy. He liked his hamburgers with mustard, his reality shows with
animal-testicle devouring, and his "hoes" with "big asses." At night, he'd feed his chihuahua, grab a
frosty beer, and sit back in his easy chair to watch the latest sitcoms. He never really laughed at
the sitcoms, but he felt compelled to watch them - "The storyline," he told his friends, though the
shows had no real continuity and there was only a tenuous connection between one scene and the next.
Yes, Mike was just a regular guy. A regular guy, that is, until one soul-scarring day when he went
back in time.
Later, when he tried to think back on how he had traveled some two hundred odd years into the
distant past, he couldn't remember. Mike couldn't actually even remember the details of the incident
at all. He is not even sure if he even really traveled through time, but he sure does like to tell
me about all it. "One time," he confided in me, "I laid this, like, old England broad with a big ass."
He nodded at me with big eyes, showing his utter sincerity.
"Daayyumnnnn," Mike concluded, raising one eyebrow at me.
I feel that it is my duty to document Mike's adventures for posterity. Perhaps it may seem silly
now, but I believe that we should all nod our heads solemnly and listen to the story of MIKE, the
greatest time traveler of all ... well, of all time!
Without warning, Mike found himself in the 18th century, the most dangerous century of all time.
Fighting for his life, no way of knowing where to go or what to do! Quickly he adopted a British accent
so that no one would know his true identity. I wouldn't believe it myself if he hadn't told me.
"Lewwwk heeeyahh, loove," he told a beautiful young American woman who was walking next to him.
Actually, it wasn't really America yet - from the way he explained it to me, it was actually a
collection of 'colonics.' So if I understand him correctly, it was really a colonical girl. "Lewwwk
heeayh, loove," he told the colonical girl. "Oyyy am een Loove wif yeww."
She smiled at him and they
began making out right there.
Suddenly, an enraged George Washington drove up in his horse and buggy. "Bitch," shouted Washington,
"I oughtta break my foot off!"
"Please, white boy," cried Mike, "I'll beat yo cracka ass!"
"Neeeew, Moyyk," shouted the beautiful colonical girl with the large breasts. "We've ewwwnly joost
met and oym fawwling in LEWV wif yewww!"
"I shall defend thou honor!" yelled Mike, and pulled out his gun, shooting George Washington in the
face repeatedly until the gun only clicked, clicked. "My God," someone cried, "Who will sign the
Declaration of Constitution now?"
"I will," said Mike, quickly forging Washington's signature on the now bloodstained paper.
"To arms,"
he cried, "let us kill the damned British!" Grabbing some tea, he threw it in the Gulf of Mexico to
rally his half-man, half-android troops. They all came - one by one - with giant rayguns and uzis.
The British began oozing up from the soil. Hideous shapes that seemed to come from a heavy metal
album cover. They oozed and grimaced, occasionally stopping to vomit a heavy stream of sewage onto the
American soil. Mike cringed at the sight - he felt his sanity slowly draining away.
"QUICK, MY ROBOT
LEGIONS," he told his army, "ATTACK THE BRITISH!" And they did, tearing off the horrors' heads with
surprising ease like popping the tabs off of a Coke can. But the British kept coming. Mike knew that
he must do something!
Quickly he rolled his twelve-sided die and summoned a level 15 mage to attack. The mage cast
FireAsh(+2 Demon protection) on the evil British army and suddenly they all began melting and shrieking,
a high-pitched noise that would haunt Mike until the end of his days - or so he told me. "Personally,"
he said, "I think I could get over it - in time." At this, he smirked and crossed his arms, indicating
that the story was over.
Sometimes he would elaborate on the stories - certain elements would change,
mysterious details were added. At one point, he defeated the British by rolling over them with a
"Super-armored magical tank." It was a damned exciting story.
Yet I would always feel that I was missing entire important scenes. He would sometimes allude to a
mysterious incident in which he shook Batman's hand. In other parts, he made out with "something like,
twelve, maybe twenty British colonical chicks." He also hinted that perhaps he had died and they had
sent back a robot in his place - and then he had risen from the dead, "just like Lazarus," and
defeated the robot clone using incredibly awe-inspiring Ninja powers.
Mike was pretty much all I talked about for about a week until he got fired. Apparently he couldn't
work because of a "ninja-related injury" and spent all his time drinking coffee and drawing pictures
of girls with large behinds. He also flexed his muscles quite a bit. After Mike disappeared, I got
very excited and figured that he must have gone back in time again. But my manager told me, no, he
just got fired.
I cannot begin to explain how scientifically important a time travel venture is. I hope you can
begin to imagine the implications of such a journey. Let us remember Mike and his fantastical journeys
always. Perhaps these writings will outlast even me so that my children and their obnoxious children
can learn of Mike, the Time Traveling Hero of the Twenty First Century!!!!!