Time bandits
markcmarino
Mark took a Major League-size wad of Big League Chew out of the pouch and tucked it in his lip. He wasn’t supposed to be chewing gum with his braces, but you know…
What’s wrong? asked Rob, reaching out a hand to his Members Only jacket, but Mark was not to be consoled. Just ran a hand through his middle-part feathered hair.
Remember the Mount? asked Mark. Rob knew what he was talking about. Mount Saint Helens. Its eruption had burned a hole in Mark’s memory.
I was sitting watching Mork and Mindy. It was before Jonathan Winters came on the show, which you know, was the beginning of the end. Good episode. Classic Mork.
And I got distracted by a report of Mount St. Helens blowing, came in over the radio my brother and I had built out of that Am/FM transistor radio I kept tucked under my bed. I grabbed a can of Tab and chugged it.
That night I dreamed a terrifying dream. I was riding my Huffy Wrangler through my neighborhood when these cars started following me. I think they were Oldsmobile Omegas. I started booking, but they followed me all the way to my best friend’s house, Ricky. We had plans to play some D&D.
Even though, I knew those guys were following me, I still went. Ricky and I had a cool campaign with our first level characters -- I had a Ranger named Max. The rolls were coming up all high numbers that night. Later we played some Atari.
All along the men who followed me were hanging put, watching, taking notes. I was too scared to say anything.
Later I come to find out they were mining my life for future commercial properties for streaming TV and a novel-to-film deal -- all about nerds in the ‘80s. And what was worse, I later find out, they had traveled back in time to get the whole story, so they could write it before I could.
Total jag-offs, said Rob, shaking his head.
No duh, said Mark.
samarahayleysteele
And with that, she lassoed the men in their dark suits and tied them to a nearby 80s reference.
"Now listen boys, these guys don't have to steal your life material, you can also steal theirs. They know stuff about a future you couldn't possibly imagine! Go ahead and ask them! I'll keep them here until you get all the information you need to make yourselves rich and powerful."
Mark and Rob looked on with that anxiety teenagers are so good at, especially when forced to make decisions with any kind of weight to them.
It had been easy to just roll with it as the men in their suits did their thing, but now this woman wanted the boys to exploit them back?
"Come on! What are you boys waiting for?" The cowgirl insisted. "You realize I'm basically your great-granddaughter from the future! Our family's success depends on this!"
"Come again?" said Mark.
"Yeah, wait, what?" said Rob.
So the cowgirl explained how members of Mark and Rob's family eventually hooked up to produce her, and now she was all amped up in her mission to travel through time and restore the family's legacy of intellectual property which had been stolen again and again by the Triple M Time Bandit Gang, blah, blah, blah. Rob strained to listened while running his forefinger across the big callus he'd built on his thumb playing Atari. Mark took off his glasses, and cleaned them with his rock band tee-shirt. This cowgirl seemed determined that the boys would be her tools in her conquest increase her power and fortune in the future. Her lecture went on and on.
Finally Rob shoot a glance at Mark and said, "Let's get out of here."
As they walked away, Rob pulled a new 8-track from his backpack, and handed it to Mark who totally flipped out. You'd never guess who the band was.
Rob Wittig
"Doing the real work while others profit. Story of my li . . . well, legally, story of their life." .
Meanwhile, 2016(c) Rob was still stuck on Corsica.