Behind the Back Story
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As a result of Mongo’s stressed decision to remove Bev from her time in order to meet his folks, RealPuter Maxine ME and Max v.9, who will be living in 339 C.E., changes rippled throughout the time-space continuum.

Several cultures involving centuries of womankind’s herstory simply disappeared. At this point, men discovered male bonding and got jobs. Games including Global Thermonuclear War made history for mankind, and oxymoronic wordplay (i.e., mankind) came into fashion, usage indicating a nose-thumbing attitude.

Another effect was the disappearance of entire branches of family trees, as well as sudden deaths and disappearances. Tube time traveling to a funeral, Mongo was working on the song he had been asked to sing at the funeral of binary fission brother, Bongo, who had spontaneously combusted while configuring his iPlant to include an audio file: “He’s Not My Brother, He’s Just Heavy.” Mongo was about to launch into his twenty-first repetition of the song when the departure signal sounded in the tube, bringing a sigh of relief from the other passengers.

  
 
“Ladies and gentlemen, please return your seats to the full surrender position and stow all personal carry-ons beneath the cube in front of you. Please reinflate your shoes, as we will be compressing for the time warp in three, two, one. Let’s do the time warp again. Welcome to HereAnd. You must be this tall to enter Now. Our lay-over time is over exactly...NOW. You did enjoy your next flight, and you will thank us later.”

“Excuse me, Tron Attendant. What’s that smell?”

“How was your brother’s funeral? Did everyone love your song?” Bev chuckled; she had endured hours of Mongo trying to find his key, stay on pitch, remember the lyrics, and sell the feeling. Also, she had trouble not laughing outright when he tried to sing falsetto.

Mongo reddened, sputtered at the dig. Then they started grinning, “You make me laugh in my face,” said the Cro-Borg, offering Bev a bunch of wilted flowers with root balls attached. Now it was Bev’s turn to blush. If her man did not sing well, and that was his only fault since his promise to stop with the hair drags was being kept, Bev counted herself lucky, and tonight, so was Mongo.



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