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Chronillogical - I've A Smiiile On My *EUGH-KOFF* [[Jen screams at the sky]] / Jen: OH, WHAT THE HELL DID I EVER DO TO YOU?! Freaking UNIVERSE! / Jen: Although... I guess... / Jen: This isn't... SO bad. / [[Jen dances through the rain]] / [[Jen continues dancing in the rain with a big smile on her face]] / [[Green-faced and with a thermometer in her mouth, Jen lies in bed]] / {{title text: I've A Smiiile On My *EUGH-KOFF*}}
It's The Anachronistic Hoplite Happy Hour Narrator: Meanwhile, in the exciting world of Roy Sloan... / Roy: "Captain Aeneas, we have intercepted intelligence indicated that Hannibal is planning a surprise attack on our starboard flank!" / Roy: "Go forth, young Hornblower, and tell General Washington that we will require immediate back-up." / [[Roy makes sound effects with his mouth]] / Roy: *PSHAW! CRRRRACK! VVVVOOOM!* / Roy: "Alarum! Hannibal's wretched minion Sauron is approaching off the port bow!" / Roy: "The port? Hornblower, give me that intel!" / Roy: "IMBECILE! Rongorongo is read in REVERSE boustrophedon order! You got it all backwards!"
Chronillogical - There's A Hot Pocket In My Rocket Roy: How's the cold? / Jen: Bedder, but I'b thstill a bid congesthed. / Roy: You know what'll pick you up? A nice, toasty hot pocket. / Jen: Yeh, no thakes. I'b tryig to keep "foodbord ildness" off my growig listht of mithfortunes. / Roy: I'm serious! It's a remedy as old as the stars, known by everyone from the ancient Chinese to the mysterious Anasazi. Kokopelli was no flautist. On no. You know what he's really holding? / Jen: Is is a- / Roy: It's an extra-long spicy southwest chicken hot pocket! / Jen: Fuhh. / Roy: Why, even the 1001 Nights mention "Al-Mu'tasim's pouch of meat and cheese, imbued with the power of the Djinn." / Jen: Do you feed thith sord of crab to your sthudenths? / Roy: Only the dumb ones. Which are all of them. / Roy: That is to say, they are all dumb and I hate them and they smell funny. And they have ugly stupid faces. / {{title text: There's A Hot Pocket In My Rocket}}
That's The Signpost Up Ahead Roy: I will now place the Hot Pocket in the microwave! / Jen: Roy, this is fascinatig. I just wadted you to know that. / Roy: GAZE in amazement as the door SPRINGS FORTH and whoa, what the heck? / Jen: What, what's --- oh, this agaid. / [[Milo enters]] / Milo: Hey guys, Hot Pockets? Hot Pockets, I can dig it. What'cha lookin' at? / [[Jen pulls Stanley out of the microwave]] / Jen: Looks like you forgot subthig id there. / Milo: ... STANLEY? But... I didn't put him there... / Roy: Huh, weird. / Milo: But ... HOW ... did he GET ... in the MICROWAVE? / [[Milo uses all of his brainpower to contemplate the problem]]
Future O'Clock Milo: DAMMIT, STANLEY, STOP TOYING WITH ME! SHELVE YOUR MIND GAMES! / Milo: Okay, calm down, Big M. There's a LOGICAL explanation. Jen and Roy are pulling pranks. Right? / Milo: Un ... Unless... / [[Milo rushes towards his lab]] / Milo: *GASP!* / [[Milo holds both Stanleys aloft]] / Milo: THE FUTURE ... IS NOW!!
 
Wakkadoo [[Jen is awakened from sleep. The clock reads 3:07 AM.]] / Clatter (V.O.): VVVVROP ZOPPO FIZZZ CHUGGA-CHONK WHIZBANG CLANG CLONG / [[Jen walks to the hangar, mumbling to herself. Sound effects continue.]] / Clatter (V.O.): KONG BZZORK POM POM POM FRRRZUNK BEEP BOP WAKKADOO RRK BOINK / Jen: MILO, CAN YOU PLEASE KEEP IT--- / [[Jen pauses as she notices that the hangar has become a Frankensteinian laboratory.]] / Jen: ... Down? / Jen: Is ... all this safe? / Milo: Yeah! I mean, sure. Maybe? Yes, definitely. Definitely safe.
It's Funny, I'm Laughin' Jen: Milo! FELLOW TIME TRAVEL RESEARCHER, here. You think you could have MENTIONED the Frankenstinian physics lab you built? / Milo: You just seemed so busy sulking about and getting sick. But never mind that---look here. / [[Milo holds forth the Stanleys]] / Jen: I---why am I looking at these? / Milo: Don't you SEE? There are TWO of them! / Jen: ... You have, like, SEVERAL, I'm pretty sure. / Milo: My collection contains NO DUPLICATES. / Jen: Okay, FINE. So where did this guy come from? / [[Milo is very dramatically lit]] / Milo: THE FUTURE / [[Jen stares at Milo]] / [[Jen suppresses her laughter]] / Jen: *SNRRRRRRKK*
Though It Could Also Be Good Jen: I'm sorry, it's just ... you think this toy is from the FUTURE? Seriously? / Milo: Not THAT one. The OTHER one. / Jen: Yeah? How can you tell? / Milo: The one from the microwave is marked with an 'F'. / The 'F' is for "FUTURE". / Jen: Yes. Clever. / Milo: ALSO, this analyzer thing registered a disturbance earlier tonight ... which is PERFECTLY consistent with the hypothesis that a temporal cleft deposited this plushiferous ursus arctos in our microwave bombardment chamber. / Jen: Oh please, that could have been a random power fluctuation, or a farting gnat, or a magician... / [[Milo gestures to a large data readout. It reads: "THIS IS BAD :("]] / Milo: A-HEM. / Jen: Oh. Or ... or a nuclear blast? / Milo: From inside the microwave. / Jen: ... Sure. / Milo: DO go on. / Jen: ... Or time travel.
Break It Down, Dr. Stanley Jen: Okay, so we have a time traveling teddy bear. What can he tell us? / Milo: Don't bother questioning him. I already tried. / Jen: That's not what I--- / Milo: So I says to myself: why would the future send back STANLEY, of all things? What is the SIGNIFICANCE? / Milo: Then it hit me: STANLEY NEUTRINO OSCILLATIONS! I reviewed the math, and sure enough our sigma compensations showed a subtle error. THAT'S why our test subjects would decohere into goo! / Jen: The Stanley equations? Weren't YOU working on those? / Milo: I'm, uh---EVERYONE was involved in SOME capacity. / Jen: I'm pretty sure it was YOUR JOB. I'm pretty sure you dubbed yourself "AWESOMER THAN GOD" because you solved them "in a trifling six days." Then you disrobed and climbed atop the cyclotron, shouting "KNEEL BEFORE MILO!" / Milo: That... that must have been a doppelganger? / Jen: And when I asked to check your work, you shrieked like a howler monkey and threatened to "poop in my soup." Eeugh.
Stanleyocalypse [[Roy is pouring himself some coffee]] / Roy: Whoever invented mornings should be drawn and quartered. And then drawn again. / [[Roy notices a Stanley on the counter.]] / [[Roy notices another Stanley on the hat rack.]] / [[Roy notices another Stanley in the fridge.]] / [[Roy notices another Stanley in the cupboard.]] / [[Roy notices another Stanley in the cereal box.]] / [[Roy notices a deluge of Stanleys on the stairs.]] / [[Roy notices another Stanley in the bathroom cupboard.]] / [[Roy notices another Stanley in the shower.]] / Roy: This is unacceptable. Adorable, but unacceptable. I can barely stand it. You might say ... I can BEAR-ly STAND-LEY it? (Nice one, Mr. Sloan.)
 
Don't ... Turn Around [[Milo and Jen are working hard in the lab]] / Roy (V.O.): WHERE'S THAT GANGLY GREEK / Roy: Milo! Your ursine menagerie has infested my quarters! ERADICATE / them. Jen, good morning. / Milo: You found MORE Stanleys?! / Roy: Your feigned surprise tires me. Just clear them out. I can still feel the unsleeping watch of STANLEY PANOPTES back there. / Milo: Jen, hypothesis time! Could these also be from the future? / Roy: The future? What now? / Jen: Anything's possible, but ... wouldn't the analyzer thing have registered further disturbances? / Roy: C'mon, explain this "future" business! Hello? Hey! LOOK AT ME / [[The analyzer thing has exploded]] / Milo: Um... / Jen: Oh, wow. It's a wonder we missed that. / Roy: NOTHING has been EXPLAINED. You are TERRIBLE SCIENTISTS
Chronillogical - Quod Erat Demonstrandum Roy: Finish this sentence: my house is inundated with teddy bears BECAUSE... / Milo: The future. / Roy: That doesn't -- what ABOUT the future? / Milo: THEY are from IT. / Roy: Oh, I don't need this scientifical double-talk! / Jen: ROY. The TEDDY BEARS are from the future. / Roy: What, seriously? Am I talking to serious Jen? / Jen: God, here, look: this machine monitors -- USED to monitor -- local space-time coherence. / Computer: Why does it hurt? Oh the pain. / Jen: It registers time travel phenomena, and when all these bears appeared, it went totally apeshit. / Roy: No, I'm pretty sure that's stupid. I've decided this is stupid. / Milo: It's not STUPID! YOU'RE stupid. Shut up. / Roy: YOU shut up. / Roy: If these bears are REALLY from the future, who's sending them? / Jen: Presumably, WE are? Or we WILL. Whatever. / Roy: OK, and why flood ourselves with boatloads of the SAME STUFFED TOY? / Jen: ...because they're cuddly and loveable and everyone needs a friend? / Roy: Q.E.D.: STUPID / {{title text: Quod Erat Demonstrandum}}
Mr. Logic Roy: It is logically impossible for these toys to exist. Therefore, they don't. / Milo: Really? Is he allowed to do that? / Jen: No, he isn't. / Roy: I'll do what I want! It is MY ESTATE. / Jen: A property deed doesn't make you some kind of WIZARD. They won't just vanish in a puff of smoke-- / Roy: JUST YOU WATCH. / [[Roy storms off]] / Jen: Yes! Run from reality! Run! / Roy: CHUMPS run. I'm DRIVING. A relaxing, STANLEY-FREE drive, SANS STANLEYS. / [[Roy's car is just absolutely stuffed with Stanleys]] / [[Roy does his best to enter the car anyway]] / Roy: Keep it together, Sloan. THEY DON'T EXIST. / [[Milo approaches Roy]] / Milo: Uh, Roy... / Roy: OH, JOY. I DO DELIGHT IN A DRIVE THROUGH THE COUNTRY, WHERE THERE ARE NO BEARS.
Chronillogical - Liar, Liar, Pyre On Fire Jen: You know, I just realized: we still have to debug a TON of research. / Milo: Yup yup. Roy'll have to deal with those Stanleys a while yet. / Jen: Yeah, I don't know about Roy. / Milo: How d'ya mean? / Jen: Well, he was OK ignoring the Stanleys at first, but now he just... LOOKS at them. / Milo: That's a good sign! / Milo: It means he's making friends. / [[Roy, gasoline can in hand, watches a bonfire of blazing Stanleys]] / [[Close-up of Roy: grim-faced, and with the flames from the bonfire reflected in his mad, staring eyes]] / {{title text: Liar, Liar, Pyre On Fire}}
Supra-Canon Theatre Narrator: Thanksgiving Day. 10:05 AM / Jen: I got the turkey! / Roy: I hate that turkey. It's scrawny. / Milo: I can fix that! / Jen: How? / Milo: With SCIENCE! / Jen: More specifically. / Milo: With my ray gun? / Jen: But how---uggh. / [[Roy, Jen, and Milo watch as the turkey is bombarded with rays by Milo's ray gun.]] / Narrator: Thanksgiving Day. 10:20 AM / [[A gargantuan zombie-turkey chases Roy, Jen, and Milo through the streets of Owl's Rock.]] / Narrator: LATER / Roy: AAAAAAAAAAAA / Jen: AAAAAAAAAAAA
 
It's Winter Now Jen: Can you believe Roy wanted to toast in front of a warm fire nursing a hot cup of Earl Grey instead of SHREDDING the HILLS in a TUBULAR TOBOGGAN? / Milo: Yes. / Jen: But he's missing out on all this TOTALLY RAD scenery. DUDE. Like that FRIKKIN' SWEET SNOWMAN. YEAH! / Milo: You are WAY too excited. / Jen: Check this out! He's got an AWESOME hat and scarf! And a WICKED nose! / Milo: Is that a bone? / [[Milo yoinks the bone. The snowman speaks.]] / Mr. Skeleton: Ow. / [[Milo and Jen stare at the snowman.]] / Mr. Skeleton: ... Could you give that back, please? / Mr. Skeleton: Seriously. Give it back. / Jen: Milo, I think you should give it back. To the max.
It's The Skeleton Guy! [[A skeletal hand erupts from the snowman's face.]] / Jen: ZOMBIEEE! / [[The snowman dissolves. Mr. Skeleton is revealed to be underneath.]] / Milo: Criminy! It's ... MR. SKELETON! / Mr. Skeleton: Aw jeeze, is dis a carrot nose? Oh, those goofy kids. / Mr. Skeleton: Oh hey, well if it ain't my best customer, Mr. Milo! And ... his friend 'ere. You! / Jen: Jen. / Mr. Skeleton: That's the one! / [[A blue shirt lies in the snow a small distance away]] / Milo: What's with the snowman getup, Mr. S? / Mr. Skeleton: Oh, sometimes I'll zonk out 'round 'ere, an' if it snows, the kids, they dress me up as Frahsty. All good fun, ya know. Couldja get me my shirt there? / [[Mr. Skeleton starts putting on his shirt]] / Jen: Why were you falling asleep outside in the freezing cold? / Mr. Skeleton: Oh, you know how it goes. / Jen: No, I don't. / Mr. Skeleton: Sure ya do, Jane. / [[Mr. Skeleton puts on his shirt. It reads: NOT A SKELETON]]
Bigotry For You And Me Mr. Skeleton: OK guys, I better scoot 'n' skedaddle. Thanks for the help back dere. / Milo: Any time, Mr. S! Bye! BYEEE! / Milo: BYYYEEEEE!! / Jen: He can't hear you anymore. / Jen: I don't understand why you like that guy so much. / Milo: How can you NOT? He's MISTER SKELETON! / Jen: See, that's what I'm talking about. Is he... ACTUALLY a skeleton? Or what? / Milo: Are you kidding me? Didn't you read his shirt? / Jen: You know, Milo, people can wear shirts that don't--- / Milo: And so what if he IS a skeleton? You wanna put him in a coffin? Is that it? / Jen: Well... he should be DEAD. / Milo: Oh, so NOW you want to KILL him! You want to KILL MISTER SKELETON. What, we should ROUND UP ALL THE SKELETONS and BURY THEM IN THE GROUND?! / Jen: No, no, I never meant that! Wait, did I? Wait ... hold on.
A Toast To Toast! Roy: Welcome back. You have fun freezing to death? / Milo: It was OK until we bumped into Mr. Skeleton. That rocked pretty hard. / Roy: How fortuitous! Everybody likes Mr. Skeleton. / Milo: Not JEN. She thinks he's an ACTUAL SKELETON. Pffsh. / Roy: What? Haven't you read his shirt? / Jen: YES I READ HIS SHIR---look, let's talk about something else. / Roy: Well, while you two were out cavorting with restauranteurs, I was busy ENHANCING my KITCHEN EXPERIENCE. / [[Roy approaches a draped object.]] / Milo: How d'ya mean? / Roy: Behold... / [[Roy pulls back the drape, revealing a convoluted contraption.]] / Roy: The TOAST-O-MATIC BREAD ANNIHILATOR ULTIMO! Note the ergonomic Japanese design. / [[The toaster's packaging makes many outlandish claims: OPTIMIZE YOUR TOASTING POTENTIAL. CERTIFIED SPACE TECHNOLOGY!! INVERSE SQUARE BUTTER GUN MECHANISMS!! CENTRIFUGAL MARGARINE APPLICATOR!! MICROPROCESSOR-CONTROLLED TORCH MATRIX!! TOAST UP TO 3 LOAVES IN 15 SECONDS!! SETTINGS INCLUDE: "CHAR," "TINGE," "DESSICATE," AND "HELLFIRE"!!! / Jen: Really, Roy? This seems... elaborate. / Roy: Jen. Dude's gotta have toast.
Surely, Maya, May I? [[Roy sips a mug.]] / Doorbell: DING DONG! / Jen (O.S.): I've got it! / [[Maya and Jen enter. Something large is strapped to Maya's back.]] / Jen: Roy, do you know Maya? She's in my brass quintet. / Maya: Hi! It's a pleasure. / Roy: OK. / [[Roy points to the large thing]] / Roy: What... is that? / Maya: Oh, it's a sousaphone. / Roy: ... I see. / Maya: Umm... is it going to be an issue if we practice here? I know Jen said--- / Jen: No no no, it'll be FINE. / [[Jen gets all up in Roy's face.] / Jen: RIGHT? Because you SAID we could. / Roy: Oh god, is this for that ghastly TUBA CHRISTMAS thing you keep blathering about? / Jen: TUBACHRISTMAS---one word. And it's not my fault you're deaf to the tuba's rich, EUPHONIOUS majesty. It is the brazen horn of GODS and TITANS. / [[Roy looks disgruntled.]] / Tuba music (O.S.): TOOT TOOT BLORT
 
Wonk [[Jen and Maya practice. Roy stands in the doorway.]] / Tuba music: BWOOM THBBBTBTHBT BLURT HURR SPWEE WONK / Roy: AHEM. / Roy: Sorry to INTERRUPT, but I just wanted to say that your music is simply TRANSFIXING. Like a siren's song. / Jen: Really, Roy? Because--- / Roy: Yes! To escape it, I tried filling my ears with beeswax. When that failed, I had Milo tie me to the kitchen table so I wouldn't DROWN MYSELF in a RAVING HYSTERIA. / [[Roy slams the door: SLAM! Jen and Maya look at each other.]] / [[Jen and Maya laugh uncontrollably.]] / Maya: All right, now let's shoot for some forehead veins. / Jen: Once more from the top! Make sure your tuning slide's ALL the way out this time.
WELL, Milo... Jen: Bye Maya! See you on TUBACHRISTMAS! / Milo: Jen, I've been wondering: just what IS this TUBACHRISTMAS business? / Jen: WELL Milo, take a SEAT and I'll tell ya ALLLL about it! / [[Milo is beside himself in anticipation.]] / [[Jen dons sunglasses and begins to sing.]] / Jen: BUM BUM BUM BUM / TUBACHRISTMAS, it comes once a year / BUM BUM BUM BUM / It's the pinnacle of tuba cheer! // BUM BUM BUM BUM / First thing you do, call all the tubas in town / BUM BUM BUM BUM / Bring 'em together, you won't see a frown // BUM BUM BUM BUM / They all start playing, such magical tones / BUM BUM BUM BUM / Those Christmas carols sounding on sousaphones / Jen: BUM BUM BUM BUM / Started way back in 19 aught 5 / BUM BUM BUM BUM / When J. P. Sousa was takin' a drive // BUM BUM BUM BUM / It was so dark, he drove right into a tree / BUM BUM BUM BUM / The crash launched him into a dazed reverie // BUM BUM BUM BUM / But he recovered and when he came to / BUM BUM BUM BUM / He knew exactly what he needed to do // BUM BUM BUM BUM / When Christmas came he gathered tubas galore / BUM BUM BUM BUM / They played so wonderfully the folks shouted "MORE!" // BUM BUM BUM BUM / And so it was: a long tradition was set / BUM BUM BUM BUM / D'you grasp the might of TUBACHRISTMAS yet? / Milo: I think I d--- / Jen: Bridge! TUUUBACHRISTMAAAS! TUUUBA TUBACHRISTMAAS! TUBA TUBA TUBA TUBA CHRISTMAS CHRISTMAS CHRISTMAS CHRISTMAS
Woah, Nelly [[Jen and Milo are at Radio Shack]] / Jen: One more time: WHY are we at Radio Shack? / Milo: To take advantage of these FANTASTIC after-Christmas deals! / Jen: Great, I've always wanted two 9-volt batteries for the price of ... one-and-a-half 9-volt batteries. / Milo: Ooh, good eye! / Jen: Sooo ... how about that time machine? / Milo: Oh yeah, I've been meaning to tell you. I got it working. / Jen: Woah, woah, woah. Time out. You "got it working"? Like, you turned it ON? / Milo: Oh yeah, I sent some stuff through time and everything. It was great! / Milo: Man, you shoulda been there. Why weren't you there? Oh well. / [[Jen is dumbfounded]]
Smek! Jen: This is unbelievable! / Milo: I know! These prices are INSANE. / Jen: Not the batteries, you boob. I meant---jrr---How did you get the time machine working?! / Milo: Very carefully. / Jen: ... Would you care to elaborate? / Milo: Well, like we talked about: I solved the Stanley equations... / Jen: You SOLVED them? / M: ... And then I jiggled a jigger here and there ... diddled a doodad ... jingled a fingal. / Jen: What, so we're just making up part names now? Is that it? Did you remember to THROMBLE the DINGLE-DONG? / Milo: Don't be silly. The dingledong was perfectly calibrated. / [[Jen smacks Milo: SMEK]]
Scream-A-Thon [[Jen and Milo are driving home in Jen's car.]] / Jen: Milo, when you describe your work in Seussian language, it doesn't exactly inspire CONFIDENCE. / Milo: Jen doesn't believe me, alas and alack! Those words that I talked at the Radio Shack. / Jen: I could totally hit you again if you want. / [[Milo pulls a newspaper out of his coat pocket]] / Milo: I thought you'd be a jerk about this, so I took measures to confound your jerkishness ... vis-a-vis the production of an anachronistic artifact! / Jen: What are you TALKING about? / [[Milo drapes the newspaper over Jen's head.]] / Milo: BEHOLD! / Jen: AAAAA / [[The car swerves off the road towards a billboard advertisement: DARE TO CHALLENGE: MYSTERY HOLE. AN OWL'S ROCK LEGEND! ONLY $25.00. EXIT 3B]] / Jen: AAAAAAAAA / [[The car has crashed through the billboard.]] / Milo: ... Maybe you should have beheld at a red light or something.
 
Golly Gosh Gee Whillikers [[Jen and Milo stand by while a tow truck tows Jen's car away.]] / Jen: What was SO INCREDIBLY IMPORTANT that you needed to throw a NEWSPAPER over my HEAD in TRANSIT?! / Milo: Time travel, Jen! TIME TRAVEL. / [[Milo shows the newspaper to Jen.]] / Milo: Here. Look closely. / Jen: What, you---sent this paper through time? / Milo: Bingo bongo. / Jen: Oh my god, Milo. We still don't know how knowledge of the future impacts the timeline. A paradox could--- / Jen: This is ... yesterday's paper. / Milo: YES! I sent it through time! With the TIME MACHINE. / [[Jen searches through her pockets.]] / Milo: What, aren't you amazed? What are you doing? / [[Jen holds a nickel aloft.]] / Jen: GOLLY JEEPERS! This nickel is from 1986! / [[Milo stares blankly at Jen.]] / Jen: CLEARLY it must have TRAVELED THROUGH TIME in a TIME MACHINE.
Taxicab Confessions [[Milo and Jen are riding home in a taxi cab.]] / Milo: So my super-amazing proof of time travel didn't convince you? / Jen: You couldn't convince a brook to babble if it had glossolalia, you thoughtless jerk. / Milo: Wait, how would a brook--- / Jen: But even though your IRONCLAD "PROOF" of time travel is a SMIDGE undewhelming---JUST A SMIDGE---I also would not put it past you to test and run the time machine and FAIL to breathe so much as a WHISPER of it to me. / Milo: So...? / Jen: SO, tentatively, I hate you for lying about fixing the time machine. / Milo: And if it IS working? / Jen: Then I also tentatively hate you for turning it on without telling me. / Milo: Ooh, Milo's in a tight spot.
Poff [[The taxi cab has arrived at the airfield. Jen and Milo exit the cab.]] / Roy: Did you get batteries? My electric top hat is gathering dust in the closet AS WE SPEAK. / Jen: Not now, Roy, I swear to god. / Roy: What's HER problem? / Milo: She's cheesed I got the time machine working, or something. / [[A teddy bear appears above Roy's head: POFF]] / Roy: It's working? Does that mean we can rid ourselves of this unremittent plague of teddy bears? / Milo: Oh, right. That. / Roy: "Gosh, Roy, once the time machine's up and ticking, we can zap those bears forever, lickety-split!" Remember those THINGS YOU SAID? / Milo: ... Maybe I do. / Roy: GOOD. / Roy: Because if you CAN'T---you ever heard of the BRAZEN BULL? / Milo: No. / Roy: ... Oh. / Milo: Should that be scary? / Roy: Yes. / Milo: OK.
Huh! [[Milo, Roy, and Jen stand in front of the time machine in the lab. A screwdriver sits atop the time machine.]] / Milo: Moment of truth, Milo-Meister. Worst case, the machine flops and your friends disown you. Or it explodes and everyone dies. / [[Milo presses a big red button on a remote.]] / Milo: *Gulp* / [[The lab fills with light as various instruments zap the screwdriver: VVRNNNNNNN]] / [[The machinery powers down: NNNZZRRMMM---]] / [[The screwdriver remains.]] / Jen: DAMMIT, Milo---! / Milo: Wait! I think it has to ... / [[The screwdriver disappears in a blue flash: BOINK]]
A New Point Of View Roy: The thing worked! How 'bout that? / Jen: Wuh--not, uh, necessarily. I mean, it still has to reappear. / Milo: Should be 90 seconds, give or take. / Jen: ... Don't you know? / Milo: So, okay. The coordinate targeting system isn't PERFECTLY calibrated. Exactly when and where it might show up is a slightly inexact science. / Jen: How inexact? / Milo: 10, 15 feet? / Roy: That's not too bad. / Milo: Well... / Jen: What? / Milo: WELL... / Jen: Just SAY IT. / Milo: When it materializes, there's a SMALL CHANCE it MIGHT intersect with matter already manifest on this chrono-plane. / Jen: So you're saying that our time-traveling screwdriver ... could end up lodged in my temple. / Milo: I ... guess I am! / [[Jen dons a construction helmet.]] / Milo: Huh. Never thought of it that way before!
 

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