"I've got something for you..., a letter!"
Dec 17, 2014 0:23:35 GMT
Marty Banks, Jim Extreme, and 3 more like this
Post by FaMzNeSS on Dec 17, 2014 0:23:35 GMT
Dear Brass & Administrators,
If my calculations are correct, you will receive this letter 1163 days after I decided to ride off into the sunset. First, let me assure you that I am alive and well. I've been living "happily" these past thirty-eight months in the year 1885. The lightning bolt that hit the DeLorean caused a gigawatt overload which scrambled the time circuits, activated the flux capacitor, and sent me back to the basement in the year 1885. The overload shorted out the time circuits and destroyed the flying circuits. Unfortunately, the car will never fly again.
I set myself up as a firemen as a front while I attempted to repair the damage to the time circuits. Unfortunately, this proved impossible because suitable replacement parts will not be invented until 1947. However, I've gotten quite adept at putting out fires and fixing fingers.
I have buried the DeLorean in the basement, two floors below where the future Chief's office should be in headquarters, as shown on the enclosed map. Hopefully, it should remain undisturbed and preserved until you uncover it in 2014. Inside you will find repair instructions. My 2011 counterpart should have no problem repairing it so that you can drive it back to the future. Once you have returned to 2014, destroy the time machine using actions that would be considered inappropriate with a finger in the lower fourty-eight states; Alabama and West Virginia excluded for obvious reasons.
Do not — I repeat — do not attempt to come back here (down here) to get me. Only rookies should be allowed in the basement, and I cannot be responsible for what other officers may incur in the basement. I am perfectly happy living in the fresh air and wide-open spaces, and I fear that unnecessary time travel only risks further disruption of the space-time continuum. And please take care of BD for me. I know that you will give him a good home. Remember to walk him twice a day, and that he only likes canned dog food. These are my wishes; please respect them and follow them.
And so DHPD, I now say farewell and wish you Godspeed. You've been a good, kind, and loyal friend to me, and you've made a real difference in my life. I will always treasure our relationship and think on you with fond memories, warm feelings, and a special place in my heart.
Your friend in time,
FaMz "FaMzNeSS" NeSS.
September 1, 1885.
P.S. Reinstate me and put me back on active duty pronto!
(In the event that my letter was convoluted and you had zero clue as to what I was talking about)
If my calculations are correct, you will receive this letter 1163 days after I decided to ride off into the sunset. First, let me assure you that I am alive and well. I've been living "happily" these past thirty-eight months in the year 1885. The lightning bolt that hit the DeLorean caused a gigawatt overload which scrambled the time circuits, activated the flux capacitor, and sent me back to the basement in the year 1885. The overload shorted out the time circuits and destroyed the flying circuits. Unfortunately, the car will never fly again.
I set myself up as a firemen as a front while I attempted to repair the damage to the time circuits. Unfortunately, this proved impossible because suitable replacement parts will not be invented until 1947. However, I've gotten quite adept at putting out fires and fixing fingers.
I have buried the DeLorean in the basement, two floors below where the future Chief's office should be in headquarters, as shown on the enclosed map. Hopefully, it should remain undisturbed and preserved until you uncover it in 2014. Inside you will find repair instructions. My 2011 counterpart should have no problem repairing it so that you can drive it back to the future. Once you have returned to 2014, destroy the time machine using actions that would be considered inappropriate with a finger in the lower fourty-eight states; Alabama and West Virginia excluded for obvious reasons.
Do not — I repeat — do not attempt to come back here (down here) to get me. Only rookies should be allowed in the basement, and I cannot be responsible for what other officers may incur in the basement. I am perfectly happy living in the fresh air and wide-open spaces, and I fear that unnecessary time travel only risks further disruption of the space-time continuum. And please take care of BD for me. I know that you will give him a good home. Remember to walk him twice a day, and that he only likes canned dog food. These are my wishes; please respect them and follow them.
And so DHPD, I now say farewell and wish you Godspeed. You've been a good, kind, and loyal friend to me, and you've made a real difference in my life. I will always treasure our relationship and think on you with fond memories, warm feelings, and a special place in my heart.
Your friend in time,
FaMz "FaMzNeSS" NeSS.
September 1, 1885.
P.S. Reinstate me and put me back on active duty pronto!
(In the event that my letter was convoluted and you had zero clue as to what I was talking about)
