The Importance of a Good Breakfast

13. So pretty

Gordon sighed and swung futilely at the instrument panel. Those stupid kids, he thought. How had they managed to evade him so completely? But that was the fact of the matter - the kids were gone. Somehow they had got wind of his plans to destroy them when their usefulness had ended, and they had split. Taking a deep breath to settle himself, Gordon composed a message to the high command. A change of plans was needed.

“When are we now?” Tall buildings blocked any possible view of the sky. The streets were in rough shape, with potholes and cracks everywhere. There were no vehicles present on the road, however, which probably explained why they had fallen into such disrepair. James watched as a group of monkeys walked by, chittering excitedly amongst themselves. One of the primates at the edge of the pack looked over at him and stuck out his tongue before disappearing down the street with the rest. “This has got to be the future somewhere.”
Mel nodded. “We are about 100 years in the future, at least, a hundred years from our present. We’re in Cincinnati, actually. Seems that this is where time travel was first practiced and the city boomed.” She looked around a bit more, confirming in her mind that they were where they needed to be. “Interestingly enough, the Browns still haven’t won the Super Bowl.” She turned and headed back into the ship. “We have to prepare our disguises.”
Slowly, James followed her back into the time machine, which looked like nothing James had ever seen before, something indescribable. So he didn’t bother to describe it, even in his own mind.
In the cockpit, Mel was rummaging around a storage locker, muttering to herself. With a cry of triumph, she pulled out a small box. “I knew it was in here somewhere.”
James cocked his head to the side and raised an eyebrow, but didn’t say anything. A moment later his patience was rewarded.
“I was looking around the ship while you slept, and I came upon a manual on the computer that was much more extensive than the pamphlet. It told me about a better disguise generator than we previously had been using.” With a flick of the wrist, she tossed a small crescent shaped piece of plastic to James. “This goes behind your ear and does everything that the other generators did, plus these do it automatically. We don’t have to program them or anything, very user friendly.” She slipped one behind her ear and was instantly changed into a citizen of Cincinnati in the future. Her hair was cut short on one side and long on the other, but was somehow blended so that it looked like a wave that grew in intensity. The pants were rather baggy and the shirt was sleeveless. Both were a dull orange colour with a pale green strip running diagonally across the front. Her shoes looked like ordinary sneakers, which is what they were. Shoe fashion, it seems, had remained fairly static over the past-future hundred years.
“C’mon sweet leather jacket,” muttered to himself as he slapped the device behind his ear. A jolt of electricity ran through his head and straight down his spine. “Ow! Why does everything in the future have to hurt so much!” Rubbing his ear, he stepped to the mirror that was hanging on the inside of the door of the locker. While he was not wearing a leather jacket, he did have a rather snazzy looking western style duster on over a black shirt. His pants looked much like the jeans he was already wearing, but with more pockets. On his feet was a pair of heavy boots, looking slightly dusty and scuffed. James admired the clothes for a moment, pleased with the fashion. As he lifted his gaze upwards to check out his hair, his eyes stopped when he saw his lips. They were a glossy red colour, obviously artificially enhanced. He looked closer and saw that he was also wearing eye shadow and blush on his cheeks. He put a hand on his mouth, trying to wipe off the lipstick, and that’s when he noticed the nail polish. With a slight moan he turned to face Mel, who was really struggling to keep a straight face. “You knew about this, didn’t you.”
“It appears that men have become the wearers of make-up,” she said before collapsing in a fit of giggles.
Shaking his head in recognition, James turned back to the mirror and looked at the face pain the was wearing. “Ah well,” he sighed. “At least it got my colours right.” With that he turned to Mel, glaring at her until she composed herself. “C’mon, let’s get this over with.”
She nodded and grabbed a small handheld device that had a circle screen on the top and a series of touch pads beneath. “This will guide us to where we need to go.” She turned to address the turtle that had been watching silently. “Ruds, you keep an eye on things here. Don’t let anyone into the ship, but keep a recorder on at all times. I want to know what’s going on here.” The turtle nodded.
One more time the time machine opened, and two travellers stepped out. Maybe soon they would get some answers.

Cautiously General Quack peeked over the edge of the ledge that he was positioned on. Ducks were not plentiful in this area, but if he was careful he would be able to follow his marks fairly easily. The cows were going to be very interested in knowing where and when they had ended up. Very interested indeed. General Quack then sighed. That would have been the perfect place for an evil laugh, but he just wasn’t able to do it. Stupid inability to laugh.

What is Cincinnati like in the future? For that matter, what is it like in the present? Will they find the answers they are looking for? Can James prevail? Will his mascara run? Join us again for half-answers and more time travelling hi-jinks in the next instalment of:
The Importance of a Good Breakfast.
Same Schlakenheisermandervorsonovichenburger time, same Schlakenheisermandervorsonovichenburger place!