I wake up somewhere. Where the fuck am I? It’s so fucking cold – FUCK. I’m in the freezer.
I burst open the door and cough and splutter back into the Galley. I can’t have been in there that long, or I would’ve died. Then again, I’m pretty immune to the cold. No, that’s just stupid.
I’m surrounded by fucking ice-cream. I have THE worst taste in my mouth, like congealed sugar and rotten fruit. I have a big fuck off headache like my head is about to explode. AND I have a Bon Jovi song stuck in my head.
None of my surroundings could piss me off more than Bon Jovi does.
Who the fuck was playing Bon Jovi? It wouldn’t have gotten into my head accidentally. I’ve been set up. Someone saw me on an ice-cream trip and decided it would be funny to subliminally insert Bon Jovi into my subconscious. Whoever they are, they are DEAD.
…it’s my life, and it’s now or ne- NO! NO! I FUCKING HATE BON JOVI!
I kick some sloshy ice-cream in frustration. Sloshy? I look out the window. It’s a beautiful day, the sun beaming down and the sea as calm as a mirror. I move into a sunny patch and feel my skin begin to warm again. It’s not just sunny, it’s gearing up to be a scorcher, as we’d say in Aus. A bloody scorcher, time for a barbie and a bit of footy. And then a couple of beers. It’s already noon, after all. A bit slow on the uptake, really.
I smile as I watch the edges of the nebula slowly start to recede. Ah well, it was fun while it lasted. Glad I had a bit, it would’ve been a shame to let class-A ice-cream like that go to waste. And that was some trip. Can’t remember most of it, apart from shouting unintelligible insults at most of the crew, hope they don’t hold it against me. I went on a bit of an adventure around the ship… crap. I definitely went to the Engine Room. Well, as far as I can see out this window, we’re not fucked yet, so I have time for a cig.
I drag myself up the stairs, towards the main deck. I pass a group of – tourists? Sightseers? Maybe that’s the new interns Alfie was talking about. They look apprehensive and I try to give a reassuring smile. I haven’t seen a mirror yet and from the look on their collective faces I’d assume I’m in some need of a shower. I scuttle up to the deck and have a smoke, then head back down to the Engine Room.
The new engine looks like an ice-cream covered child has been hugging it and then drawing finger paintings all over it with the ice-cream. I set all the valves back to their starting positions and then notice something as I get to a switch I swear was never there before. It’s labelled “TIME” and then has three positions, “FORWARD”, “STOP” and “BACK”. Underneath, in small letters, is written “Warning: Overuse of the TIME settings can cause serious rifts in the space/time continuum. Use sparingly and in emergencies only. Do not use when intoxicated. Above all, do not attempt to contact yourself should you go back to a time when you already exist.”
Well. You’d think I’d have noticed that before.
It’s set to STOP at the moment, but I have a weird feeling the smears around BACK are some sort of clue as to what has happened.
I decide not to press anything else before consulting the rest of the crew. I wonder back upstairs calling Alfie? Bobby? Simon? Syd? Heeellllooo?
Alfie: Not guilty on the Bon Jovi thing – I don’t think I even know any Bon Jovi songs apart from “Living On A Prayer”. All those bands with hair sound the same to me.
You’ve been in the freezer for 3 days!? Oh shit. We wondered where you’d gone after you broke out of the Sick Bay.
The good news I suppose is that at least now we know that there is a time FORWARD button. Best to wait and see what the pelicans come up with before we start messing with it? It’s one thing to go back to a past well documented, but a whole other story going forward to a future where we don’t have a clue what awaits us (if it actually turns out we’re still in 2009). With regards to breaking the space-time continuum, I think it seems highly unlikely that we will encounter ourselves as none of us were alive in 66 (except perhaps Flash?) But definitely avoid your biological parents in the off-chance they might also be in a boat in this exact part of the Hatlantic.
I’ve updated our map on the Bridge today – the navigation system suggests that we are still moving backwards and you’ll never believe this, but while I was checking our whereabouts, I figured that we have been sailing through the BERMUDA TRIANGLE for about a week and a half. Maybe that’s why everything is suddenly so weird! Wherever we are, we’ll need to find a button on that engine that can move us forward through SPACE as soon as we can, otherwise we’ll be back where we started in a matter of days.
One thing that did occur to me about time travel was: Is there any historical event that we could attempt to change while we are back here?
And then I thought: we’re too late to end the Second World War, but… we’re not too late to go pay a visit to a certain 5 year old John Francis Bongiovi, Jr. to freak him out badly enough that he will never write a single song in his life. Just think: we have an opportunity here to change the future for the better – eliminating Bon Jovi from a parallel universe. It’ll be legendary! And really difficult to explain! I know we’re short of numbers, but we could surely sacrifice a small team for a 24-hour hot-air balloon round trip to New Jersey…
In other news, enjoy the weather while you can, the supercomputers are predicting that we’re going to see some serious storm action this weekend. On the plus side, the ice-cream does indeed appear to be melting and is now confined solely to the freezer – thank fuck.
I agree completely that we should get out the BBQ, mash and mango-skin football, and beers while the sun is out. We do have a BBQ in the Storage Hold, right? I mean, we have just about everything else. Except for the chaps, which are still stuck to my legs.