Time for a Change

After several hours, Warren had decided that French prisons weren't really that pleasant. He had sat quietly by himself in the corner just as he had been told to do, and sat there for quite a while, but nobody had seemed to notice.

This could have been due to the fact that he was the only person in his cell, but Warren wasn't willing to admit that possibility to himself just yet.

The door burst open, (well, technically, it swung open, because as far as Warren could tell it still remained in one piece, which doesn't usually happen if something bursts per se, but certainly is more likely if it merely swings) and the Big Ugly Frenchman entered the cell.
"Warren!" He shouted (which made little sense to Warren as he was only a short distance away from the Frenchman, inside voices would have been so much more appropriate), "Ah 'ave been talking wiz ma soup-ear-ie-ears," (Warren presumed this was some sort of salad ingredient) "aaaaand, they want to know more about zese guns you speak of. Speak, Warren!"
"Ah, well, um," Warren stammered for a second, "Perhaps if you could tell me where we are, and what year it is, I might be of more help to you."
"Hmm, ok, but you better not be fooling me, Monsieur Warren!" The Frenchman said. "This is the glorious nation of France, under the reign of King Philip the Second, and it is the year 1202!"
"Ah, right. Just as I thought." Warren scratched his head for a second. "Well, sir... what is your name, anyway? I keep thinking of you as the big ugly Frenchman but that's probably not your favourite term of endearment."
"Eet's not even in my top three!" The Frenchman replied. "Ma name is Guillaume!"
"Well, Guillaume, I think the best way for me to explain guns to you is simply by showing you. Come here for a second, and hold my hand."
Guillaume advanced slowly, his sword drawn (with red crayon, if you must know), for he was suspecting a trick.
"That's it, good work." Warren grabbed Guillaume by his free hand and pulled the Time Bender from his pocket - it was glowing again. "Now, I'm not too sure how this works Guillaume," Warren began, "But I'll try my best and let's see what happens next."
Warren began energetically shaking the Time Bender, and shouted in a loud voice to it; "Take me somewhere with lots of guns!"

A moment later, the cell was empty.

***

A dusty plain saw two neanderthals staring blankly at one another across a distance of several metres.
"Urgh." The first neanderthal said.
"Graw?" The second countered.
"Mmurf!" The first confirmed. Moments later, a wooden club was exchanged for a handful of berries.
Suddenly, a man in blue robes followed by three other men with shaven heads and light grey jumpsuits, and a train station manager, appeared.
"Skylar!" The first neanderthal spoke.
"Growling Bear!" Skylar responded, and the two quickly embraced. Moments later, a stretch of leather hide was exchanged for a Rolex.
"Skylar!" Jennie shouted out. "Do we really have time for this?"
"Sorry." Skylar replied. "Acolyte Steven, why can't you get the Time Twister to work properly?"
Acolyte Steven hung his head, and muttered something about the red, green, yellow, and blue buttons being harder to press than they looked. And the spinner made things difficult.
"Now Steven," Skylar said, "If you weren't my most trusted and long-serving acolyte, I'd be starting to suspect you were up to something right now. That isn't the case, is it?"
"No, Skylar." Steven replied in a sullen, bitter, angry at his boss for all the years of hardship voice. "Time travel, coming right up."

A moment later, Skylar, Jennie and co. (who doesn't feature much in this blognovel) were on the platform watching Warren disappear.


Last Time : : Next Time