Chapter 1: The Mysterious Time Tunnel

Between the years 1969 and 1973, the Time Travel Department embarked on experiments involving an enigmatic phenomenon referred to as the “time tunnel.” The science underlying this remarkable achievement remains shrouded in enigma, primarily due to the unconventional techniques adopted by the team. What they casually referred to as “bangin’ some ideas around” resembled the improvisational style of a jazz ensemble or the antics of a contemporary comedian. Scientists would convene to “jam” or “riff” on concepts, a method suitable for formulating minor chord progressions or humorously explaining gender differences to an audience at the Andover Laugh Hole. However, this approach was deemed reckless when dealing with antimatter and other unpredictable phenomena.

Eyewitness accounts and filed reports reveal that the team inadvertently managed to capture a black hole. They decided that Maurice, an endearing drifter known for his perpetual smile, would be the first to traverse the time tunnel. After a brief pep talk about what to anticipate, he was handed a tuna sandwich, placed in his wheelchair, and gently guided into the dark abyss. He was never seen again.

As time passed, the less industrious scientists began tossing the contents of their wastebaskets into the hole. This harmless activity escalated into days spent hurling office supplies, children's toys, empty liquor bottles, and, during a particularly boisterous Camp Hero Christmas Party, an alarming quantity of human waste. What began as a light-hearted dare evolved into a routine by the spring of 1972. Around this time, the project’s lead scientist, Dr. Felt, was awarded the title of “Underground Scientist of the Year.” This accolade, which in the early '70s included a cash prize of twelve hundred dollars and a flamboyant red smoking jacket, was a source of pride. While he appreciated the money—having anticipated the award months prior and already putting a $900 steak on layaway—the jacket became his true treasure, protected at all costs from cigarette burns and crumpled tissues.

Months after receiving his award, the time tunnel started to behave erratically. The countless cigarette butts carelessly discarded into the tunnel began reappearing in large quantities, along with crumpled papers, unfinished sandwiches, and even post-consumer adult magazines. One particularly alarming find was a sandstone fragment inscribed with what appeared to be ancient Sanskrit. After thorough examination, it was translated to read, “Seriously, are you really throwing waste into this thing?” Unfortunately, this message came too late, long after the annual Camp Hero Olympics, notorious for events like “Toss 200 Pounds of Warm Ground Beef into the Time Tunnel.”

It was early April 1972 when Camp Hero recorded its first encounter with the unknown. Upon arriving at the lab, the scientists gathered around the tunnel, ready to fire their newly issued sidearms into the depths. Eyewitness accounts suggest that the tunnel began to expand and contract dramatically before ultimately giving birth to a small, wounded purple creature. Dr. Felt, in a panic, removed his cherished jacket, wrapped the creature in towels, and struck it with his trusty shovel. Witnesses claim that just before leaving the facility with the creature concealed in a weathered hockey bag, he proclaimed, “This isn’t the first hole I’ve dug in the desert, and it certainly won’t be the last.”

Later that day, following his encounter with the creature, Dr. Felt returned to the office to find chaos: spent shell casings, overturned furniture, and his beloved jazz records scattered carelessly. Realizing he had violated protocol by leaving his firearm unattended, he reached for the nearest weapon—his beloved shovel.

This account is drawn from the 1994 young adult novel “Felt You Coming: Dead Without Remorse” by Dr. Marvin Felt:

“Dr. Felt glided through the corridors like a serpent, the training kicking in without a doubt. In moments like these, he preferred cunning over brute force, yet today’s events had shifted his perspective. He looked forward to the bloodshed, the struggle, the conflict, but a fleeting memory of Melissa crossed his mind, that sunset at the boat launch. ‘No time for nostalgia,’ he admonished himself. He peeked into the vault housing the time tunnel and laid eyes on the massive purple beast. Towering ten feet tall, it sported ivory horns and wore flowing robes, its hair wild and tangled. It locked eyes with Dr. Felt, and retreat was no longer an option. Bringing his lucky crucifix to his lips, he kissed it and let it drop back to his chest.”

Despite its poor sales initially, the novel gained unexpected notoriety when shock jock Howard Stern used its pages for comedic effect, furthering its cultural footprint.

The actual events were far less theatrical. In a bid to psych himself up for the impending confrontation, Dr. Felt consumed several key bumps of cocaine, which later tested to be extraordinarily pure. The creature, standing at a mere four-foot-eight, wore what could best be described as a bathrobe rather than any ceremonial attire. Dr. Felt was aware that the creature's singular vulnerability lay in delivering fifteen to twenty blows to its head, but he lost grip of the shovel when he raised it overhead. Falling to his knees, he begged for mercy, even offering to sacrifice colleagues and family as a bargaining chip. As the creature examined Dr. Felt’s exquisite red smoking jacket, it muttered, “Sharp coat. Maybe... we make deal?”

The ensuing negotiations revealed that Maurice had arrived in the creature’s dimension and was placed under observation. He entertained his captors with tall tales of the vagrant lifestyle: living off the land, high-stakes bindle-tying competitions, and the thrill of a good old-fashioned brawl. He eventually ascended to a leadership role due to his knowledge of the items carelessly discarded into the time tunnel. Using various office supplies, he helped maintain order in their dimension; with human waste, he taught them agricult