Death Ray Butterfly HTML version

So then my assistant Kelley says, why don't you start with the
time they dragged you back in time to stop the toddler assassin?
That was some weirdness there. See I'm sitting on my ass in the
headquarters' office canteen enjoying my meltdown caffeine
when the General - he's got bangles and shit on his coat - comes
charging in, barking orders like straight out of an old time crappy
“Mister Mole? Come with me. Big trouble. I need you to plug it
like a leak.”
I don't budge too easy so the guy started shouting louder like it
would help me get the picture. Never did understand why people
wave their hands around while they're talking. If I wa nt to play
charades I'll let you know. Generals don't impress me neither. I
did some military time myself. Boy was I young then! Must have
been some kind of war going on, it's hard to say. We did a lot of
marching around. Some kind of yelling they did too. I don't get
with all the talking so loud. I can hear you pretty good so just
pipe down will you?
He's jabbing his finger this way and that, saying he's got some
kind of machine and no ti me to waste, or rather a time machine
that was going to waste, or he only had a few rides left before
the thing expired, like it was going to pop like Cinderella's
pumpkin. I finally dragged my butt over to the window where he
was trying to show me it was outside. Thing looked like an
ordina ry car to me.
“Let me get this straight”, I said to him. “You want me to go for a
ride in that old buggy of yours, is that it?”
“No bugs,” he shouted. “Nobody will hear a thing!”