Junior Earplug Adventures: The Missing (Part 35)


The days that followed immediately after the celebration…

…were  lonely and forlorn for Magnuss. Never again would he hold, in his arms, his beloved Hair-Trigger Provost…

Never again would he go supercross riding  over relentless whoop-de-doos with his brothers…

Never again would he discover strange anomalies such as tears in the fabric of space/time…

…and mysterious effluent laying about the museum…

But Magnuss cast aside these thoughts. Instead he looked deep within his mind. Somewhere inside his subconscious, he was sure, lay the secret of the way back to his home reality. He thought back to the telepathic message from his distant brothers…

There had been so little time available. They had been forced to cram his head with all the information they thought he would need. Surely the way home would have been included. It was like an itch that he couldn’t scratch. Like a word upon the tip of his tongue. If only he could access it! And it would remain that way for another twenty minutes, when, quite by chance, he discovered his duplicate standing beside the Tunnel Temporal…

“We can’t have this, Magnuss.” The native Magnuss said. “Two Magnusses in the same universe just doesn’t add up. We can’t both be the greatest hero in the museum. And what about your museum: they’ll be missing you terribly. Who knows what disasters have befallen it since you’ve been moping about here, feeling sorry for yourself. But most importantly, I was reading an article in the Silicon Lifeform Times about mutual exclusivity…”

Magnuss pricked up his ears at this. “Mutual exclusivity.” He heard himself say in a hopeful inquiring tone. “What – like matter / anti-matter reactions, you mean?” Then, as he spoke the words, the information passed to him by Rudi and his other brothers, surfaced. “Magnuss.” He yelled before his facsimile could respond. “You and I are mutually exclusive. Whatever you do, don’t touch me: something violent could happen!”

In a heartbeat, the other Magnuss comprehended the meaning of Magnuss’ words. His eyes turned towards the Tunnel Temporal. “Acceleration.” He said. “All we need to do  is to accelerate you fast enough along the tunnel, and the laws of thingamy whatsit will take over. Result; you make it home.”

“Exactly what I was thinking, Magnuss.” Magnuss replied…

…”But I have to tell you; I’m feeling a tad trepidatious.”

“Well,” the other Magnuss responded, “while you feel trepidatious, I’ll switch the tunnel on.”

As the tunnel began to glow, Magnuss summoned up the courage to cast aside his fears of the recalcitrant device from the distant future…

…and clambered into its maw.

“Is it alright if I don’t look?” Magnuss asked his opposite number. “This is something a male earplug can’t prepare himself for, no matter how experienced he is with weird stuff. So, if its alright with you, I think it would be better for my psyche if I didn’t see it coming.”

The other Magnuss understood fully. “Me too. I’ve set up a pile of mattresses to catch me when the reaction occurs: but I can only pray that I won’t seriously bruise my meaty buttocks when I crash into them. So, if its alright with you, I think I’ll close my eyes too.”

So, with all four eyes clamped shut so tight that it hurt, both Magnuss’ waved their hands about in a flurry of nervous limbs – until stray finger tips touched. The result of the momentary caress was a violent reaction…

…that flung the local Magnuss into the waiting pile of mattresses; and the interloper Magnuss along the Tunnel Temporal at an unbelievable velocity…

…upon a journey into the unknown. And as he hurtled across the void of space/time Magnuss asked himself several questions: Would he be returned to his home reality? Would he once more speak with his friends and family? Would he, ever again, eat his beans on toast in his own apartment, which came complete with a occasionally used rice cooker, a packet of stale doughnuts, and his favourite brand of moist lavatory tissue? Or would he arrive somewhere (and some when) else entirely? Only time would tell.

The End

© Paul Trevor Nolan 2017

 

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About Tooty Nolan

Writer of silly tales, taker of pictures, and all round good egg
This entry was posted in Photography, Tooty Stuff, Writing / Books and tagged , , , , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

2 Responses to Junior Earplug Adventures: The Missing (Part 35)

  1. Jayne higgs says:

    Excellent.👏

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