Part One.
2501 AD.
“If I’m getting married, I want my parents there.” Declares the paunchy, yet handsome old man stuffed into a white body sock three sizes too small for his shaggy apelike frame.
“Buck you can’t! The Timeline!” Screeches the size zero blond lady filling out a white flight suit four sizes too small for a bust that could launch a thousand star ships.
“I’ll slip in as the holocaust is starting, pick mom and pop up, and zip them out before project bluebook is any the wiser. What could go Wrong?”
2501 AD.
“If I’m getting married, I want my parents there.” Declares the paunchy, yet handsome old man stuffed into a white body sock three sizes too small for his shaggy apelike frame.
“Buck you can’t! The Timeline!” Screeches the size zero blond lady filling out a white flight suit four sizes too small for a bust that could launch a thousand star ships.
“I’ll slip in as the holocaust is starting, pick mom and pop up, and zip them out before project bluebook is any the wiser. What could go Wrong?”
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