It was a fucking fantastic voyage, and we were traveling through a most disturbing part of the universe, a section where the ribbon of time was twisted all around, folding back on itself, wrapping and knotting; you would be traveling along on July sth, and all of a sudden it was midnight July 4th, and you were counting hours backwards, and maybe you could remember fast enough what was coming up, and maybe you would jump up into June a year later, and then skip-hop across to the preceding May; you might find out that you were experiencing certain pads of your own past for the first time. Where was this place?... Fucked-Upville, of course. This guy here was a litigation lawyer IFom Houston who just happened to get on the wrong People Mover at the Little Rock airport on an innocent trip to 17 Flags over America for a court case, when all of a sudden he's the big baby his mother could never change diapers fast enough for, and he's still carrying his brief- case, but he's got the same pacifier he spent twenty years trying to duplicate with stink-cigars and lard-infested foods. Cracks me up think- ing about it. Guy on the right just took a turn for the worst into his own animal-husbandried future, where his Swatch don't tell time so good. "Bob" did his job, all right; maybe did it too well!

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