I was sitting in my front room smoking a rather splendid tobacco in my pipe, Coconut-Komodo. It was a feisty little number and I happily accompanied it with a bottle of rare Cognac gifted to me by an old friend, Guntar. A fine fellow despite having a face like a masturbating albatross.
Quite suddenly the door burst open and my exceedingly good friend Dobson Dobberson came flying through.
Boomy!! Boomy!! Come, you must come at once!! It's the past, something terrible is going wrong with the past!
I took a puff of my pipe and blew the smoke out at Dobbers.
What? Stop acting like one of those little fish that swim up penises, man. Pull yourself together!
Dobson heaved in a breath and visibly calmed.
Sorry old chap, you're right. I don't know what came over me. I say, do pour me some of that Cognac?
I poured him out a stiff measure and bade him sit.
A couple of bottles later he felt calm enough to explain what was wrong.
You know the time travelling contrivance I invented, Boomy? You remember I became worried for the quantum flux of time and then came up with my splendid Fluxing Oculus device to determine the health of said quantum flux... Boomy? Boomy! Wake up man!
I snapped awake with a snort like a cat wrapped in bacon.
What? Quantum Time McJiggery? Again? Oh for fuck sake. Let me guess. You need me to go back and fix random shit in the past?
Dobson put his glass down somewhat unsteadily and reached into an inside pocket. He retracted an old photograph and passed me it over.
Not just random shit, Boomy, dear chap. This directly affects you, as you can see...
It was an old photo of me and Dobson at the club, Dobson had someone's boob in his mouth and I was holding up a bottle with my arm around him. Or at least I thought it was me. For some reason, I had started to fade from the photo as if I was ceasing to exist.
I looked up at Dobson and set my mouth in a grim line.
Someone is going to get a bloody good thrashing.
I peered over the edge of the rooftop into the harbour. It was 1990. A time absolutely heaving with buffoonery. Dobson had advised me that at this particular moment the disturbance in the quantum flux was coming from here.
I had wondered if it was just someone with a bad case of the venison shits but Dobson had assured me that it was most definitely not the case.
There was some noise from down below certainly. I looked for the source of it. Ah, there. On a small boat was a group of young teenage peons. They looked to be drinking and singing odd songs about standing hand in hand and some other shit about whales.
What is it with fucking whales?
I made ready to dismiss them and move on until I noticed that one of their number was wearing rather a splendid hat and was swishing an ebony cane, quite elegantly, back and forth in time with the raucous singing.
How curious?
The familiarity tugged at me.
After a time I saw that the peons were taking turns to use a public convenience on the dock not far from where the boat was moored. I waited until the young gentleman decided it was his turn to visit the urinarium.
The young gentleman swayed out of the small outbuilding that housed the grubby splash-cafe. He was singing a different song now, softly under his breath about a mothers sock not being fit for his cock.
I shook my head at the folly of youth and stepped out in front of him, my cane barring his way.
Young man, may I have a word?
Faster than a dog sniffing balls, his own cane snapped up and clashed with mine.
He stepped back swiftly, raising that fine cane to chop at me.
He might have been fast but I was faster still. Years of practice, poking at peons with my oaken shaft meant that my cane jabbed out before he could block and dug into his belly.
Fuck! What the blazes old fellow? You are obviously a Gentleman, why the devil would you poke a man so?
He exclaimed with no small amount of exasperation.
I withdrew my cane.
I do apologise, young fellow, I was hoping to have a quiet word with you when you attempted to biff me with your man-stick, as it were.
I said, smiling like I had picked up a grape with my anus for the first time.
Well, why didn't you say so?
Griped the young man impatiently. He made to frown, then raised a querulous eyebrow.
Excuse me, old fellow. You do look awfully familiar? Have we met? Do I know you?
I nodded, I recognised this young cockgibbet now. Oh, I recognised him well.
Yes indeed, young fellow. In fact, I am a relation of yours... On your Mother's side...
Really?
The young fellow peered forward even more closely.
Yes, yes! I do see the resemblance! A relative indeed! How utterly splendid! May I ask? Cousin? Uncle?
My face lit up with a smile that blazed like the sun.
Yes young fellow, An Uncle... Uncle Boom in fact. Well met.
The young fellow smiled, an innocent fresh smile of wonder.
That's marvellous, Uncle Boom! We share the family name, for I am a Boom too!
I leaned in close and threw an arm around him. For a moment I contemplated telling him he was my one and only son. The seed of my loins.
I opened my mouth.
Then I closed it again. After all...
TO BE CONTINUED!!! WILL BOOMY SAVE HIMSELF AND BY DOING SO RESCUE THE VERY FABRIC OF TIME?! TUNE IN FOR THE EXCITING CONCLUSION NEXT WEEK!