Elijah and I made up a bunch of funny stories or skits during our time together in the hut. It’s pretty hilarious, at least to us! So I’m writing them down.

Useless Time Machine

In Last of the Mohicans, Daniel-Day Lewis places a great indian. At the end of the movie, he’s saved the girl that he loves. They began their life in love, but also hardship. Winter was coming, and they had little in the way of money or provisions.

While hunting one day, Daniel was invited into a time machine by some nice people of the future. He readily agreed to go. He was gone for six years in his time, but he was able to come back only five minutes later, before his astounded common-law wife!

ZAP! Daniel appears.

“Daniel, what has happened?” she said.

“I’ve been in the future for 6 years, praise the Great Father!” he replied. He looked different. Less hair, maybe.

“How strange,” she replied. “Did you bring any sorely needed provisions back from this magical journey? We have scraped the last of the pumpkins.”

“Well…er…no, my Queen. But! I played many wonderful games. In fact, here, I brought one back with me!” He reached into his jerkin and removed a small black rectangle, sleek as a black cat, though without fur. He began to fondle it.

“See here…ah! No…wait..here. Yes! Here it is. It’s called ‘Burger Time.’” he whisphered with excitement.

As Sarah watched strange sounds came from the device, now rapidly fondled by Daniel. He began to giggle, which increased her dismay.

“What is this demon thing?” she said, fighting panic.

“Oh! It’s not a demon, my love. It’s a game!” he said, looking up briefly, then returning to his ministrations. “Oh, and you can call people, too. I made a friend in the future, his name is Todd. Let’s call him!”

Daniel finished his ‘game’ then said in a funny voice: “Ok, Google, call Todd.”

Sarah was surprised to hear the black box answer him. In a queer voice, it said: “I’m sorry, there is no network here.” Daniel’s face fell.

“Ah, darn,” he said. “I guess we can’t do that. But we can still play some games. I suck at them, the other guys in the future are a lot better!”

Sarah noticed that the strong muscles on Daniel’s arms were gone. And he had a great soft belly. What had they done to him in this nightmarish future time?

“Daniel, my love, you seem to have weaked greatly! I fear you are sick!” she said, coming closer.

He waved her away. “Naw, I just didn’t have much time to work out,” he said, returning to his black box.

“What is ‘work out?’” she asked, more bewildered than before.

“Oh. It’s just something you do,” he said, still distracted. “Or don’t do. L-O-L!”

At this last sound, she looked around the forest, expecting she knew not what. “What is L-O-L?” she asked, now exasperated.

“Ha! It’s just something you say. It means ‘laugh out loud’. I learned so many wonderful things!” At this Daniel beamed.

“Well. Your father is very ill, and I am heavy with child. I’m sure you’ve returned with great knowledge that we can use to live and prosper!”

Daniel’s brow furrowed. “Hmm. Oh! Yeah. Hot water is really important. Like, for germs and stuff?”

Sarah sighed. It appeared that Daniel’s future was no match for their present. He continued playing with the little box, fondling it often. He attended little to her, growing tired the few times he did. In time, the battery died, and Daniel continued as a shell of the man he once was.

A Shooting at the White House

Dane, Dirk, Greta and Hans were polishing their weapons in the security annex. They were elite bodyguards, assigned to protect the President and his family. It was a lazy day. The four joked companionably.

Suddenly, the door burst open, and the Secretary of State ran in: “Quick! They’re attacking! They are after the President! Come help!” He ran right out.

The four sprang into action. Dane grabbed his Shooty X636 and began filling it with ammo. Greta and Dirk ran to the weapons case, opening it to reveal a Booty-ka 6000 and sixteen RPGs. Hans wildly tossed bands of ammunition to the rest, then pulled out a crate of pinnapple grenades. He began stuffing these in every pocket.

Greta let out a mighty war cry, as she began clicking the various weapons. “CHK-CHK!” went each weapon in turn. Dane bellowed with rage as he started cocking the seven guns arrayed about his powerful frame. “CHK-CHK! CREEK! CHK-BRAPP!” Dirk and Hans loaded a rocket launcher with many powerful clicking and ratchetting sounds.

Bellowing and grunting, clicking and ratchetting, the four continued about their duties to arm themselves well against Presidential assass–

BLAM!

Total silence. Dane’s eyes were as wide as saucers. In fact they were all stock-still. What had just happened?

Well. The President had just been killed.

END.

Doctor Who is Clueless

Doctor Who, the super-cool guy who travels the universe through time and space in his “Tardis.” He has seen many worlds. He has experienced wars, and friendship, and even the disillusion of his own form, ever to regenerate with a new body, through the eons. He has protected mankind since the beginning of his journey. He has accumulated vast resevoirs of knowledge.

There is only one problem.

By now, he is deeply out of touch with the human experience.

The Tardis lands on a green field, present day earth. A small boy watches it appear, astonished.

The Doctor emerges, looking around.

“I say, boy!”

“Yes,” said the boy.

“What, pray tell, is that tall brown and green shimmering thing standing across from us,” said the Doctor, looking skeptically at an oak tree.

“It’s a tree,” said the boy.

“Oh. Right. I forgot.” The Doctor looked around wildly, then stared at the ground.

“Ah! The very ground under our feet! Is this not the terrible menace of Greenhorn Viral Planetary Population Bomb?” He began dancing wildly. “Lift your feet, boy! The spores will attach themselves to you!”

The boy saw nothing wrong with the grass. “It’s just grass,” he said.

“Not just grass, foolish boy! This alien-engineered material will grasp firmly to anything that it touches! Your very bones are in danger!” shrieked the Doctor.

“Uh. No…I don’t think so,” said that boy.

The Doctor stopped dancing. “Perhaps you are right.”

It went on in this way with the Doctor. Later, at the boys house, after consuming 3 liters of Fanta, the Doctor wondered about the pressure in his bladder. “Boy! What is wrong with me, that I feel this discomfort?”

“Uh…you probably have to go to the bathroom,” said the boy, now growing tired of the Doctor’s continual surprise at daily life.

“What is this…‘bathroom’,” said the Doctor. “Is it a teleportation station or a vaccination site?”

The boy, exasperated, said “But you’re the Doctor! You’re supposed to know everything?! You even forgot how to use the bathroom?!”

In this way, with much difficulty, the Doctor re-entered daily life on earth. He’d even forgetten how to find and enter his “Tardis” time machine. Much rolling of eyes.