||[Oct. 14th, 2014|02:36 am]
You spend your whole life trying to build a time machine. There's so much to learn. So much to do. You drag entire fields of physics kicking and screaming from the realm of the hypothetical into the realm of the known. There's no time for rest. No time for love. No time for friends.|
When you're 95, you finally succeed. You breathe calmly, set the machine back 75 years, and hit the button.
You spend the next hour trying to convince your 20 year old self that dedicating his (your) life to this insane quest isn't worth it. But it's no good. He's 20, and he's flipping out that you just traveled through time.
You finally give up and turn to leave, but he beans you over the head with a science fair trophy and steals your ride.
Congratulations. You EITHER just destroyed the universe or figured out a way to circumvent that whole lifetime of study thing.
Stranded and aimless, you head to the nearest bar.