the limit | ✔

maybe he'll get it right this time

          He reread the instructions carefully once more before folding them up and shoving them in the front pocket of his slacks. He sat down in the chair of the chamber and strapped himself in. He squinted his eyes, scrutinizing the buttons before him very closely. He tapped his chin with his forefinger. Tapping his chin didn't help him think very well, so he switched over to scratching his head. The usual cliches for confusion weren't helping him any. He figured it would just be best to go with his gut and push the buttons he felt were right.

          He pressed a series of buttons in a carefully calculated pattern, considering his actions cautiously as his finger pressed the cold plastic of each. When he finished, the bright lights flashed again, the foul stench filled the air, and the machine shook violently like a rocketship taking off for space.

          After several minutes of vomit-inducing lights, sounds, smells, and movements, the contraption seemed to crash land. It skid across the ground, occasionally catching some air with each bump, and came to a creaking halt.

          He hesitantly unbuckled himself and opened the door of the time machine. He looked out. In front of him was a giant billboard. It was aesthetically pleasing and artistically tasteful, so he continued to study it. The background was red with black curved lines, almost like a fingerprint. A man with dirty blond hair and bright blue eyes was off to the left, smiling wide. The right side had bold black writing. Michael read it aloud. "Subscribe to... Pewdiepie?" he said. What is a Pewdiepie, and why would I subscribe to it?

          Out of nowhere, an attractive man with hazel-green eyes bent his head into the open machine. He smiled, and Michael had to admit it was a pretty beautiful smile... not as beautiful as Prince's... which he missed seeing... since Prince didn't smile anymore... because he was in a coma... He was wearing a gray baseball cap and a maroon shirt that said "RAW." Michael cocked a brow at the man which made him smile wider. He removed his cap and ruffled his brown hair with his hand before putting it back on. After a moment, another man popped his head in on the other side of the door. He was shorter than the other guy and had darker hair. He, too, was wearing a baseball cap but had on a bright red, long sleeved shirt that had Russian words on it. The two mysterious men stared at Michael silently with smiling faces for an uncomfortable, awkwardly long time. "W-where am I?" Michael finally said, stuttering.

          "North Carolina," the taller man said. The longer he stood there, the more Michael could see the excitement bubbling into his face and shining in his eyes. Michael opened his mouth to say something, but the man cut him off. "It was amazing! We were filming a video to show off this billboard we bought-" he paused to point back at the billboard with the man's face Michael saw when he first opened the door, "-and our cameraman Jake, which we call him the Viking but that's not important right now, saw something flying through the sky. We looked and saw whatever this thing is you're in crash-land right here in this very spot. We thought it was aliens, but the fact that it's you is even better! Anyway, welcome to North Carolina, and more importantly, are you subscribed to Pewdiepie?" Michael moved to answer, but was stopped again by the overly excited man before him. "You probably aren't, but we'll fix that in minute. How did you get here? Where did you come from?"

          Michael rubbed his forehead, already annoyed. "What month is it?" he asked, ignoring the man's questions. "What year is it?"

          "It's October, 2018," the man answered cheerfully. "I'm Mr Beast, by the way. And this is my friend Chris, but you can call him Chriscross Applesauce." He gestured to the man standing on the other side. 

          Chris waved at Michael, and in a southern accent greeted, "Howdy."

          Michael blinked a few times, more confused than ever. "I don't get it," he thought out loud. "I was just a few months in the future, and the world was ruled by robots. Where are the malicious robots and gangs of homicidal old ladies?"