A Stopover for Nachos
Momentarily, there was a cold feeling of electricity in the air that seemed like it was a smell, but Agent 9 could not adequately describe what that smell was. Then it faded out, at the same time as other smells faded in, the smell of pavement and gasoline, an American city in the South on a hot summer day.
Agent 9 lifted his head up over the edge of the bathtub, the placed his hands on the brass rim to push himself up. He looked at the large red sign looming over them.
“It’s a 7–11?”
“Mind keeping your feet out of my nutsack, junior, I’m a little bit tender in that region”
Agent 9 stumbled back, removing his left foot which had been perilously close to assaulting his companion. Agent 99 lifted his head up in turn, took off his large 1930s style overcoat and goggles, and then rummaged inside a large burlap sack, bringing out a crumpled up Panama hat and a Member’s Only jacket which he put on in turn.
“Damn, forgot how cramped it is traveling with somebody else” he said as they climbed out.
“Oh really, I never noticed! I thought the tub was bigger on the inside” Agent 9 grinned.
“Ah, HAH HAH HAH”
“That doesn’t sound like a real laugh”
“Wow, a Dr. Who Joke, gee that’s original! Never heard that exact one ever before today either, prick. Come on”
9 followed 99 into the 7–11, the air conditioning felt good after the humidity outside.
“Why are we in a 7–11?”
“Where we are is only half the equation, it’s when this 7–11 is at that really matters”
“Hey, you boys queer?” This was from a tall, muscular guy in a white t-shirt, and faded jeans, black aviator glasses and a straw cowboy hat who had just come in the doors shortly after them. A shorter red-headed guy with a black t-shirt, with a pack of cigarettes rolled up in the sleeve was standing behind him, looking angry.
“What”, Agent 9 was confused, not just by the question but also the apparent lack of tattoos on the two seemingly adult men.
Agent 99, sotto voce: “Don’t engage”
“I asked if you boys was queer!?” “Yeah, you boys queer?!” This second from the red headed guy.
Agent 9: “You mean gay? We’re not gay, not that there’s anything wrong with being gay if we were” Agent 99 groaned, as he moved behind the counter where the food area for hotdogs and other microwavable foods was at.
Cowboy hat: “Told you they was gay!”
Redhead: “Oh there‘s’ plenty wrong! Fag!”
Cowboy hat: “We knew you was gay when we saw you crawl out of that bathtub together. What kind of sick shit you up to in there?” moving closer in to the store standing about 5 feet away from Agent 9 at this point.
Agent 9 — to Agent 99: “What year is this?” to Cowboy hat: “Listen, I’m not gay, he’s not gay, we’re not gay. But you don’t back off I’m going to lose my temper and hand you your ass”
Redhead: “We ain’t gonna let no gays talk to us like that!”
Cowboy hat: “You must be the pretty young bitchy one, and this here’s your sugar daddy”
Agent 99, chuckling: “It’s 1985”
Agent 9, to cowboy hat: “You think he’s gay? Man, he’s wearing a Member’s Only jacket”, talking sideway to 99 “What the hell are we doing in the 80s?”
Agent 99: “Well it could be we’re here because of how fashionably cool Member’s Only was at this time, but really we’re here for this” revealing a paper tray for Nachos, large size, that he was stacking a layer of nacho chips onto.
Cowboy hat: “I think we’re gonna have to teach you fellows a lesson, show you what your peckers are for!”
Redhead: “Yeah, what your peckers are for!”
Agent 99: “Hey Look! I am here to get some nachos, and I do not have time for this shit. Now look at this hat I’m wearing — do you know what kind of hat this is?!?”
Cowboy hat, unsure: “Is it a gay hat?”
Agent 99: “No Man! It’s a Panama hat! Do you KNOW who sings about a Panama hat?”
Redhead, excited to know something: “Van Halen, dude!”
Agent 99: “So, is Van Halen going to do a song about a hat worn by gay men?!? Think about it!”
The tension departed the two men’s bodies, Cowboy hat, whose face had become increasingly dour as the conversation had worn on lightened up immediately and sheepishly said “No I guess you’re right. Hey we’re real sorry”
Redhead: “Oh say sorry for bothering you guys, hey that is a kick ass stacking technique you got there” this last was due to Agent 99’s stacking of the chips in the paper box, which by this point was 3 layers deep, buttressed by a cheese that glued them together as he worked on erecting the 4th layer.
Agent 99, grinning and continuing stacking: “I’ve had a LOT of practice”
Cowboy hat had gone and gotten a six pack of Budweiser and gone to ring it up during this “Hey, to make it up for you, I’d like to buy you a big gulp!”
Agent 99: “Hey it’s no problem, I understand you were just trying to take care of things. We’re cool.”
Agent 9: “What the fuck” looking back and forth between the Agent 99 and the swiftly departing redneck duo. “You just totally validated that homophobic piece of crap”
Agent 99: “When in Rome, my young PadOne.”
Agent 9: “I think you mean Padawan.” Agent 99: shrug. Top 7th layer of chips finished, golden cheese running down like lava from Pompei, littered with the detritus of onions and almost hidden by the hundreds of jalapeno slices.
Agent 9: “Point is we should kick those guys asses, hell if you’re too lazy to do it I can do it myself. We should like do a deep kiss and then kick their asses”
Agent 99: “And then what? We go off high-fiving each other, they go out tonight and kill some gay kids while looking deep in each other’s eyes with unfulfilled longing?! Damn, why do I always get saddled with idiots. This is the 80s, you can’t fix the time by kicking some redneck’s ass, anymore than you can go kill Hitler. And don’t ask me to go kill Hitler now.”
Agent 9: “Why would I want to kill Hitler?”
Agent 99: “You don’t want to kill Hitler but you want to beat up rednecks!” walking to the front counter balancing his monstrosity.
Agent 9: “Everybody knows you’re not supposed to kill Hitler. Why are we in the 80s anyway?”
Agent 99: “Like I already said, for this” gesturing to the mountain of chips, cheese and jalapeno slices he had placed on the counter along with a crisp 5 dollar bill.
Agent 9: “No, really. You were serious? Were you serious?! Really? We’re in the 80s so you can eat that disgusting garbage!? My insides are rotting just looking at it. “
Agent 99, pocketing his change: “You want some? Because too late for that!” then looking at the cashier “Hey, can you look through the fives you have to see if any have stars at the end of their serial numbers , if they are in good condition I’d like to exchange for them?”
“..No, and you two should get outta here. 7–11 is a nice place!” Her round little face scowled with determination as she looked into Agent 99’s face.
Agent 9, after getting outside: “What’s wrong with her?”
Agent 99: “Probably heard you suggesting deep kissing me and beating up those guys, it’s the 80s”
Agent 9: “Yeah, well… hey, wait a minute! I know this place, I know this area!”
Agent 99: “It is just heaven when you can get two jalapenos and a bit of onion per chip, it is nature’s perfect food”
Agent 9: “We’re in Sarasota!” to Agent 99 “That’s disgusting!”
Agent 99: “Sarasota is where it all started”
Agent 9: “What!? Who? I just got out of this place, what the hell man!”
Agent 99: “See, if you’re poor, which I’m not any more but still. You could eat one box of Nachos a day and keep alive. Of course the Southland Corporation ended up going bankrupt and selling out and being capitalist dicks and changing how the chips worked so you couldn’t survive off a single serving any more, but they didn’t realize I made a time machine and the rules don’t apply to me” Big grin at 9. Fingers dripping with cheese, getting down to the 4th layer of chips which are still solid but starting to get soggy around the edges, also still plenty of jalapenos to go around.
Agent 9: “Are you saying you made the time machine, so you could go back and eat this disgusting food? Why would I even do that?”
Agent 99: “What?”
Agent 9: “Oh never mind, like it isn’t even blindingly obvious”
Agent 99: “Whatever, just don’t mess up my enjoyment of these nachos and everything is copacetic.” walking back to the bathtub. “assholes” there were a couple of empty beer cans in the tub, picked them up and threw them out.
Agent 9: “Doesn’t anyone ever steal your stuff?”
Agent 99: “It’s a possibility, but I got a couple security tools set up. I mean a really determined assault, with a lot of bodies to throw at it, could maybe get somewhere but just someone reaching in and taking my bags — wouldn’t recommend it!. Alright let’s go”
Agent 9: “Wait a minute, where are we going? Why did you come to a 7–11 in Sarasota to get Nachos!? You could get Nachos anywhere!”
Agent 99 has finished the nachos, and throws the soggy paper box of cheese remnants and not much else on top of a heap of garbage topping off what must almost certainly be a can, buzzing with flies. He wipes the back of his hand across his mouth and then around the right thigh of his jeans.
“Get in.” Both get into the bathtub “So anyway, to answer your questions, while we were disposing of that dead body and bags of crap that douchebag Agent 77 threw on top of us in the Aetherial Chasm you kept asking me to help you out with finding out some stuff about Bartholomew” throws the Tempulian throw lever so that it hits ÑÕÐ “About that guy who wrote the score and all that”
Agent 9: “Max Steiner, did you know that..”
Agent 99: “..he went crazy after he did the score, no I didn’t but I learned about it, way too much! Well anyway, he wrote the score here — in Sarasota!”
Agent 9: “I didn’t know that — but anyway he sure didn’t write it in the 80s. What’s really going on here”
Agent 99, sighing: “We came to Sarasota from the Aetherial Chasm. I stopped in the 80s first because I had a craving for nachos. I could have gone somewhere else for nachos but it makes sense I did it in Sarasota because then I don’t have to travel in physical space but only on the time axis back to the 40s so you can visit Mr. cuckoo-pants writing your dumb film score.”
Agent 9: “Oh, OK… no wait, not OK. Something isn’t right man. You’re lying again”
Agent 99: “Haven’t lied yet so can’t do it again”
Agent 9: “You said it was easier to travel from here because we were in the same place, but the Earth has travelled thousands of miles since Bartholomew was first released in 1941!”
Agent 99: “The Earth travels 584 million miles a year, of course in that same time the Solar System travels about 4.5 billion miles around the galactic center, so while you are technically correct where time travel is concerned you need to take Englen’s Differential into account which means that…”
Agent 9: “Of course, it’s all a setup, why didn’t I see it before1”
Agent 99: “Huh?”
Agent 9: “You knew all this was gonna happen, it’s all a setup! We show up you take off your overcoat and goggles and put on the members only and panama hat!”
Agent 99: “1. It’s too hot for an overcoat in Sarasota 2. It’s the eighties, I’d rather not get beaten up for wearing an overcoat and goggles”
Agent 9: “Yeah, cause you knew those guys were going to accuse us of being gay, that’s why you had the panama hat”
Agent 99: “It’s Florida, there’s lots of sun. Look at the top of my head” lifting hat off the top of his head “see how there’s not a lot of hair and you can see the skin beneath it? Hellloo, any of this sinking in?”
Agent 9: “How’d you know to say that about the Panama hat then if you hadn’t lived through it once already”
Agent 99: “This may surprise you but I Can outsmart dipshits without needing to double back on my time line and grab a head-start”
Agent 9: “oh man, I can’t turn into you. I just can’t”
Agent 99: “what?!”
Agent 9: “It’s obvious so cut the bullshit”
Agent 99: “Glad it’s obvious to one of us!”
Agent 9: “I’m you, you are me. Only further along the time line. You are helping me out because it helps you get to where you are in time. It’s obvious — even our names! Agent 9, Agent 99. Come on!”
Agent 99: “What the fuck are you going on about? I’m at least half a foot shorter than you!”
Agent 9: “People shrink as they get older”
Agent 99: “How old exactly do you think I am?!”
Agent 9: “uhm…”
Agent 99: “I’m 48, you retard!”
Agent 9: “Hey, that is out of line. Conscientious and kind people do NOT use that word!”
Agent 99: “I’m not a conscientious, kind person, you moron, I’m a time traveler!! OH MY GOD!!” Frantic, frightened expression on face, gazing past Agent 9 to the flow of the time stream behind them.
Agent 9 jumps up and turns in a fighting stance towards the source of the danger. At which Agent 99 kicks his butt while flipping the chronocraft violently over. Falling out of the chronocraft 9 finds his hair is standing on edge and crackling with electricity as he falls through the neon colored streams of time, but then he is in the blue sky and below him he sees a large outdoor recreational center pool that he is hurtling towards, as the voices of people scream in fright at his and Agent 99’s sudden appearance in the sky.
Agent 9, shouting: “You idiot, you’re going to wreck your own time machine!”
Agent 99: “So long, sucker!” twisting the steering wheel and the time machine flips out of existence.
Of course, thought Agent 9, he had it planned out from the beginning. Then he hit the chlorine blue waters of the pool and everything went black from the force of the impact.
Agent 9 came to slowly, he was laying on the edge of the pool, clothes soaking staring at some super toned blond kid with dreads and a rainbow colored bunch of friendship bracelets on his wrist.
“Whoa dude, you totally fell out of the sky from a bathtub, did you know that Dude?”
Agent 9, groggy and standing up. Looking at blond kid: “wait you’re all wet”
“yeah Dude, I was in the pool. You fell in the dude pool, from a.. “
Agent 9: “Yeah yeah, but — how can you be all wet but still smell so much like marijuana?”
“hheh eh, ugh, wait are you a narc? Cause if you are you have to tell me, that’s the law”
“No, it’s not”
“Only a real narc would know that!” Turning to shout to the rest of the pool “Hey, Bathtub Guys a Narc!”
This news was evidently too much for Agent 9, who expertly kicked the young man who had saved his life in the genital area, lifting his slightly from the tiled edge of the pool and sending him into the pool itself.
“Fuck” Agent 9 shouted “I hate the 80s!! I hate them”
“Why, man? The 80s were cool! You ever seen Stranger Things?!” This was from a young cappuccino-brown man wearing a long pair of swimming trunks with the word Bahia on the side.
“Stranger..What year is this? Wait, what‘s the date today, complete date?”
“screw you narc, we’re not telling you anything” the blond kid had crawled his way out of the pool helped by a couple of girls, one of them shouted at 9 “Dave’s gonna kick your ass when he gets here”
“I keep telling you Trish Dave’s not my boyfriend”
“Whatever. Joss and Davey sitting in a tree, K*I*S*S*I*N*G!”
“Look I am so so sorry I kicked you, I just thought. Well never mind it was crazy. Look I’m not a narc, can you please just tell me the date”
“First comes love, then adoption, then Joss has no more booty call options!”
“Please the date”
“Ok, well if you are a narc that’s police brutality, but maybe you’re just a messed up guy who needs some help. That was a pretty hard fall.” This was from the brown guy again “You want us to call a doctor?”
“Just.. tell me the date”
“See, that’s what I mean. But it’s November 20, 2022”
“oh my god, I was right, it is all a setup. Listen, thanks guys, Joss, I’m sorry about kicking you. If you give me your address and phone I will contact you and make things right”
Joss looks at Agent 9 as you might expect given the circumstances, and that request.
“Fair enough, I gotta go. Bye”
“Bye narc.”
“Bye possibly mentally disturbed guy, glad we could help”
“Yeah you’re lucky Dave’s not here!”
THE END OF THE WHATEVER (Beginning, maybe?)
This article was put together by me, IG Agent 86 from garbled reports received from IG Agents 9 and 99.
I have also tried to figure out how various past articles I’ve received relate to this — I would say the following articles are relevant:
There are a few other possible connected articles, but I haven’t actually been able to figure out how they connect so I will leave them off this list for now.
