Sunday, February 27, 2011

Bob on Twitter,
Or just Ask Bob a question already.

This is a piece of fiction from about four years ago…one of my favorites that was never featured on or Which seems sort of odd in retrospect, since I run both.

Hope you like part I of “Shrongs”

“So why me?”

“Remember the day after your surgery you were visited by a host of doctors the next day?”


“Then later a few more doctors came in, and then you took some stress tests, and x-rays, and blood samples?”

“Well, yeah.”

“Didn’t you wonder why you never got charged for almost a full days worth of tests, not to mention the hospital visit?”

“Not really, I figured if the soup don’t stink don’t stir it. I thought I just got lucky with the billing. A bookkeeping mistake.”

“Well not exactly. The first group of doctors were interns. One of those doctors was a student of Dr. Simmons,”


“You don’t know who Dr. Simmons is, do you?”

“Not really.”

“I’ll explain…” Dr. Wilkens, the experimental physics professor, continued, “Dr. Simmons is the leading researcher in aging research. When his student told him about your youthful appearance, Simmons became interested and ordered a variety of tests to determine your biological age compared to your chronological age.”


“Haven’t you ever noticed you don’t age like most people.”?

“I noticed, I just thought I was lucky.”

“Looking five years younger is lucky. Your were 62 years old and chronologically you were 35. There’s something else going on here.”

“And you want to find out what it is?”

“Eventually, but for now we want to run a few more tests..."

The next few days were spent laying in a hospital bed. They poked, took blood, and had me run on a treadmill. It was like I was abducted by aliens. And I made it very clear that if they tried any alien-butt-probes, I was takin' the first bus to Nashville.

No butt-probes and plenty of cheeseburgers.

My kind of place.

I thought it was all over when they called me back a few weeks later. Next thing I know, they’re tellin’ me I’m still 35. They didn’t have any explanations, but it turns our Dr. Simmons brought my name up to a physics professor who was working on some time-displacement thingy.

I was impressed that they brought the smarty-pants to explain the whole thing himself.

“So what happens again?”

“Time is interwoven with the universal theory of everything, which is connected to gravity, which is connected with gravitational strings. In order to span across great distances instantaneously, strings not only distort time, they can control it. Bend it to suit its needs in the universe.

At least that’s what we think.”

“OK, what about the dimensions you mentioned.”

“In order for gravitational strings to control time, they travel in and out of different dimensions, so they get a signal in our universe, jump to a different dimension – travel – then pop back to our dimension to exert its gravitational effect – instantaneously.

At first we were trying to manipulate gravitational strings to travel in time, but it turns out when our probes jump to a different dimension, tracked by the number of strings generated to get them there, they were instantaneously destroyed on the other end.

Whatever was there, something from our universe couldn’t survive. We don’t really know why, yet. That’s when we stumbled upon 305 MS (305th mega-string dimension). The probe came back the way it left.”


“That’s not all, when it came back it had an etching on the side.”

“Get out of town. What was it?”

“A smiley face.”

COMING NEXT: “Shrongs Part II” or “Juicy, juicy melons!”

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