Wednesday, February 22, 2006

Rebuilding Henry

My name is Henry the Adequate, and I am a superhero.

"So, what is it you're doing again?" I have some other questions, such as "How did I get here?", "Why are you still around anyway?" and "Why do they use those hideously ineffectual little square plastic things to seal bread?", but these questions don't seem quite as important right now, except possibly the one about the bread.

"I am connecting the rhyme machine to your central nervous system and also filtering your blood through its temporal correction circuitry," explains the rhyme lord carefully, as though he is speaking to a complete moron. This does not sound like a good idea.

"This does not sound like a good idea," I protest, as though I think that perhaps this does not sound like a very good idea. Then I notice the rhyme lord appearing to vanish, then reappear on the other side of the room. "What the... and why is it dark outside?"

"You're going to experience some minor temporal displacements."

"I see." Now I understand completely, because of my incredible brain. ".. and why is it dark outside?"

"You have jumped forward a little over four hours," explains the rhyme lord carefully.

"And why is that?"

"It is because you are going to experience some minor temporal displacements."

"Right..." I have a distinct feeling that this is leading someplace unpleasant, but cannot quite put a finger on it.

"In time you may learn to control them," says the rhyme lord, Doctor What, as though it is a very ordinary thing to say. I do not think it is very ordinary.

"What do you mean 'in time'? It's going to stop, right?"

"Um... Think of it as a new superpower."

Right now I am thinking about my flamethrower, for some reason, and wondering if rhyme lords are very flammable.

"Take a look in the mirror." He is offering me a mirror.

"Do not mock me, Doctor What, for though I might appear hideously deformed I still have powers enough..." Actually, come to think of it, I am currently noticing a lack of pain, an apparently normal sense of touch, and an amazing absense of charredness to my flesh. I look in the mirror. "Oh... well... I could have done that."

6 Comments:

Blogger Lorraine said...

Ok...do you do switcheroonies to see if we're really reading or just to confuse us?

11:46 pm  
Blogger carouselle10 said...

Has that rhyme machine been approved by the FDA, the AMA and the SPCA? I sure would like to get one of those blood filtering treatments.

12:54 am  
Anonymous Brenza said...

Those little square plastic things they use to seal bread, you can break in half and stick on your finger and fling at people. hehe

2:25 am  
Blogger Ben said...

lorraine:
I get bored.

carouselle:
Um... I'll get back to you on that.

brenza:
Ouch! Stop that!

9:06 am  
Blogger Josh said...

We play games like this in philosophy class all the time, just to discuss the ethics or opinions. All very interesting.

1:55 pm  
Blogger Ben said...

You connect a person's central nervous system to a piece of strange and no doubt extremely dangrous alien technology? In your philosophy class?

Where did you get a time ship from anyway? Can I have a go?

3:30 pm  

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