TIMEZONE!!!!!!
Bob started up from his bed, his eyes wide with fear. He calmed down, however, looking around and realizing he was standing in his room.
"My god!" he said, "It was all a dream. That 3 hour adventure with action, romance, humor, horror, and suspense, in which the audience became truly vested in the characters, their motivations, their backstories, and their actions, it was all a dream. Oh well." He went back to sleep.
Fin
The screen went black, and the credits started rolling.
"That movie was terrible. And it didn't have anything to do with the Civil War. And it wasn't even invented yet! How are we in a movie theater in 1882?!" Shifty got up from his seat angrily.
"Yeah," blubbered Portly, "And I didn't get enough candy."
"Grandpa, you lied to us again. Grandpa? Where'd he go?"
But Grant was already hobbling along down the street, some cheap hooch in his pocket in case he needed some ready energy. He had finally gotten rid of his two crappy grandkids. Now if he could only find a cigar shop, then his day would be good again.
But suddenly he heard gunshots. He saw two flags. Men in blue uniforms. Men in gray. The smell of beer and dead cow everywhere, pervading and permeating everything. It could only be one thing...a Civil War reenactment!
"No!" shouted Grant as he tried to run away, but it was too late. He was having a flashback.
TIMEZONE/FLASHBACK/TIMEZONEFLACHKBASCK/!!!!!!!!!!!
"Sir! We've just taken Vicksburg!" The young messenger was out of breath, having burst through the front of Grant's tent.
Grant took a swig and got out of his chair. "Well thank god for that! I was starting to get worried."
"Sir, I think the men would like a speech."
He could hear shouts of 'GRANT! GRANT! GRANT!' through the tent cloth. Grant stepped outside.
"Well men, I'm not one for long speeches, but dammit! Did we fight a hell of a battle or didn't we! I'm proud of you boys. Lincoln's proud of you. Your country, and that includes them southerners, is proud of you too. This was an extremely important victory for the union. So three cheers!"
The soldiers began cheering. Grant felt truly happy, but out of the corner of his eye he saw another messenger running towards him. The man stopped right in from of him.
"More good news?" Grant asked.
"You betcha, sir!" beamed the messenger. "We won the battle!"
"Well of course we did. I just gave a speech."
"Oh, not here sir. It was in Pennsylvania. At Gettysburg. It was an even bigger battle than this one. And Lee was there. He even retreated."
"Wait. What?"
"Gettysburg, sir. It's in all the papers."
"Hold up. Is there any news of Vickburg, or General Grant? That's me."
"Um. I don't think so. What was your name again?"
"Grant. General Ulysses S. Grant."
"No. It isn't ringing any bells. Maybe you should check in the middle section of the paper. That's where they put the less important stories."
"What?!"
"Yep. Gettysburg. Do you know it's being called the turning point of the war? I have a feeling it's all anyone'll be talking about for the rest of the year. No! For the next 100 years! None of that Vicksburg business. Nobody cares about that. Well bye Mr." The messenger began walking away.
"My name's Grant. Grant! NO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"
TIMEZONE!!!!!!!
"Well Ruford, I'm glad we resolved our differences and decided to take a cruise to and a giant bus tour of America to see if it really exists." Mr. Greyson was marveling at the sights and sounds of New York City from the top of a giant tour bus..
"Me too," said Ruford Schwalwac. "It's sure nice that we now realize America exists."
"Me three," said Ms. Laidly.
All of them laughed
"Hey look," pointed Ms. Laidly, "An old American pedestrian lying curled up in the fetal position having a civil war flashback in the middle of the street."
The giant tour bus ran over Grant. The three British tourists laughed again. What fun America was!
TIMEZONE!!!!!!!!!!!!!
"What happened?" asked Grant. Everything was misty.
"Why, you died Mr. Grant. Run over by a tour bus. Quite nasty business I must say," came a supradimensional voice through the haze.
"Oh. Ok."
"To answer your question....I AM TIMEZONE!!!!! INCARNATE. I AM THE PHYSICAL MANIFESTATION OF TIMEZONE ITSELF!"
"Um. I never asked a question."
"Whoops. Sorry. Most people do. Anyways, moving on. Even though you have now died most terribly, time and its many zones still demand a final task of you."
"Great."
"To answer your question-"
"I haven't asked any questions."
"-Sorry again. Force of habit. Where was I? Oh yeah. So basically you have to stop Abraham Lincoln and Jefferson Davis, who have gone back in time to the 1850s, from destroying space-time. Capice?"
"What? No." A hole opened in the mist, and everything began to get sucked into it, including Grant. "But I actually have some questions now," shouted Grant as he was swept off his feet into the swirling vortex.
TIMEZONE!!!!!!
'Grant the Grumpy' he were called, but ne'er to his face, lest ye be wanting a fistful o' enraged, intoxicated ex-president.
Bob started up from his bed, his eyes wide with fear. He calmed down, however, looking around and realizing he was standing in his room.
"My god!" he said, "It was all a dream. That 3 hour adventure with action, romance, humor, horror, and suspense, in which the audience became truly vested in the characters, their motivations, their backstories, and their actions, it was all a dream. Oh well." He went back to sleep.
Fin
The screen went black, and the credits started rolling.
"That movie was terrible. And it didn't have anything to do with the Civil War. And it wasn't even invented yet! How are we in a movie theater in 1882?!" Shifty got up from his seat angrily.
"Yeah," blubbered Portly, "And I didn't get enough candy."
"Grandpa, you lied to us again. Grandpa? Where'd he go?"
But Grant was already hobbling along down the street, some cheap hooch in his pocket in case he needed some ready energy. He had finally gotten rid of his two crappy grandkids. Now if he could only find a cigar shop, then his day would be good again.
But suddenly he heard gunshots. He saw two flags. Men in blue uniforms. Men in gray. The smell of beer and dead cow everywhere, pervading and permeating everything. It could only be one thing...a Civil War reenactment!
"No!" shouted Grant as he tried to run away, but it was too late. He was having a flashback.
TIMEZONE/FLASHBACK/TIMEZONEFLACHKBASCK/!!!!!!!!!!!
"Sir! We've just taken Vicksburg!" The young messenger was out of breath, having burst through the front of Grant's tent.
Grant took a swig and got out of his chair. "Well thank god for that! I was starting to get worried."
"Sir, I think the men would like a speech."
He could hear shouts of 'GRANT! GRANT! GRANT!' through the tent cloth. Grant stepped outside.
"Well men, I'm not one for long speeches, but dammit! Did we fight a hell of a battle or didn't we! I'm proud of you boys. Lincoln's proud of you. Your country, and that includes them southerners, is proud of you too. This was an extremely important victory for the union. So three cheers!"
The soldiers began cheering. Grant felt truly happy, but out of the corner of his eye he saw another messenger running towards him. The man stopped right in from of him.
"More good news?" Grant asked.
"You betcha, sir!" beamed the messenger. "We won the battle!"
"Well of course we did. I just gave a speech."
"Oh, not here sir. It was in Pennsylvania. At Gettysburg. It was an even bigger battle than this one. And Lee was there. He even retreated."
"Wait. What?"
"Gettysburg, sir. It's in all the papers."
"Hold up. Is there any news of Vickburg, or General Grant? That's me."
"Um. I don't think so. What was your name again?"
"Grant. General Ulysses S. Grant."
"No. It isn't ringing any bells. Maybe you should check in the middle section of the paper. That's where they put the less important stories."
"What?!"
"Yep. Gettysburg. Do you know it's being called the turning point of the war? I have a feeling it's all anyone'll be talking about for the rest of the year. No! For the next 100 years! None of that Vicksburg business. Nobody cares about that. Well bye Mr." The messenger began walking away.
"My name's Grant. Grant! NO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"
TIMEZONE!!!!!!!
"Well Ruford, I'm glad we resolved our differences and decided to take a cruise to and a giant bus tour of America to see if it really exists." Mr. Greyson was marveling at the sights and sounds of New York City from the top of a giant tour bus..
"Me too," said Ruford Schwalwac. "It's sure nice that we now realize America exists."
"Me three," said Ms. Laidly.
All of them laughed
"Hey look," pointed Ms. Laidly, "An old American pedestrian lying curled up in the fetal position having a civil war flashback in the middle of the street."
The giant tour bus ran over Grant. The three British tourists laughed again. What fun America was!
TIMEZONE!!!!!!!!!!!!!
"What happened?" asked Grant. Everything was misty.
"Why, you died Mr. Grant. Run over by a tour bus. Quite nasty business I must say," came a supradimensional voice through the haze.
"Oh. Ok."
"To answer your question....I AM TIMEZONE!!!!! INCARNATE. I AM THE PHYSICAL MANIFESTATION OF TIMEZONE ITSELF!"
"Um. I never asked a question."
"Whoops. Sorry. Most people do. Anyways, moving on. Even though you have now died most terribly, time and its many zones still demand a final task of you."
"Great."
"To answer your question-"
"I haven't asked any questions."
"-Sorry again. Force of habit. Where was I? Oh yeah. So basically you have to stop Abraham Lincoln and Jefferson Davis, who have gone back in time to the 1850s, from destroying space-time. Capice?"
"What? No." A hole opened in the mist, and everything began to get sucked into it, including Grant. "But I actually have some questions now," shouted Grant as he was swept off his feet into the swirling vortex.
TIMEZONE!!!!!!
'Grant the Grumpy' he were called, but ne'er to his face, lest ye be wanting a fistful o' enraged, intoxicated ex-president.
(OP: Nate, February 26 2008)
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