When Glibb X came across a cloud of smoke appearing out of nowhere and decided to step into it for a lark he little knew he was stepping into a time warp. That’s the fancy word they use for a crack in space-time.
Suddenly Glibb found himself falling with a thud to the bottom of a molehill. When he looked up he knew there was something different in his surroundings. And that’s putting it mildly. Because the concrete metropolis around him had been replaced by a prehistoric setting. And he knew about prehistoric settings. He had seen ‘em all in Hollywood blockbusters.
Even as he looked up a couple of Neanderthals wielding clubs turned the corner. One of them spotting him shrieked in horror and almost fainted. Then he collected himself.
“Do you see what I see?” he asked his equally flabbergasted companion. The companion could only say weakly, “Gee, I dunno…”
This interested Glibb immensely.
“Do you fellows actually speak English? The Queen’s own English?” he asked the Neanderthals.
“Listen, wise guy,” said the taller of the two cavemen. “Kindly desist…refrain from making racist cracks.”
Glibb blushed at the compliment and said, “I’m from millions of years in the future. We didn’t know you chaps were so advanced as to speak English.”
This had the cavemen slapping their thighs and guffawing.
Then the shorter man said, “But seriously, we two are school dropouts. The dudes with the degrees speak a more advanced language.”
And they were still laughing when they disappeared in a puff of smoke.
my time machine too small
for a Brontosaurus