I'm walking home from the bus stop. It's night, I'm alone. Ahead I see an old black dude with dreadlocks wearing a dirty trenchcoat, standing stagnant. As I near him, I try to avoid eye contact. He looks grizzled and I expect him to ask me money. "Hey brotha." He says as I pass him. I ignore him and keep walking. "You interested in time travel?" He asks. I stop immediately. I have always had a big interest on the subject so I stop to inquire more. I turn around. "Yeah dude," I say.
"I got a time machine, mon." He says with a thick Jamaican accent. I let out a little laugh, figuring this guy is nuts or just fucked up on something. "Yeah, sure buddy," I say sarcastically. I turn away from him and begin to walk again. "You want to see it mon?" He replies. I am kind of confused at this point. I am almost certain that this black dude does not have a time machine, but yet I am compelled. Is he trying to trick me and possibly molest or rape me? Rob me? He is black after all. Or is it possible that this man actually does have a time machine? I had to find out. "Yeah, sure dude," I say.
"This way, mon," he says as he leads the way. "It's in my apartment." We are walking together and I start to ask questions. "How did you come up with this invention?" I ask him. "I stole it," he says honestly. "My baby's mama used to work for this genius, mon. Professor of physics for the university. He's got a huge mansion, mon. I rob his house one day, I thought I was stealing a plasma TV. When I got it back to my place my hand went through the screen. You got to see it mon."
We keep on walking, eventually reaching an industrial area. No apartments in sight. No cars driving by, no people. "Well, where's you place man?" I ask. That's when he pulls out his gun and says "Pull down yo pants, mon."
"I got a time machine, mon." He says with a thick Jamaican accent. I let out a little laugh, figuring this guy is nuts or just fucked up on something. "Yeah, sure buddy," I say sarcastically. I turn away from him and begin to walk again. "You want to see it mon?" He replies. I am kind of confused at this point. I am almost certain that this black dude does not have a time machine, but yet I am compelled. Is he trying to trick me and possibly molest or rape me? Rob me? He is black after all. Or is it possible that this man actually does have a time machine? I had to find out. "Yeah, sure dude," I say.
"This way, mon," he says as he leads the way. "It's in my apartment." We are walking together and I start to ask questions. "How did you come up with this invention?" I ask him. "I stole it," he says honestly. "My baby's mama used to work for this genius, mon. Professor of physics for the university. He's got a huge mansion, mon. I rob his house one day, I thought I was stealing a plasma TV. When I got it back to my place my hand went through the screen. You got to see it mon."
We keep on walking, eventually reaching an industrial area. No apartments in sight. No cars driving by, no people. "Well, where's you place man?" I ask. That's when he pulls out his gun and says "Pull down yo pants, mon."