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Last night, in bed, a clap of thunder woke me and set me thinking about parallel universes again. Like you do. I started planning how to react should a really brainy, scientist, boffin bloke drop by in his silver space machine and invite me to join him on a trip to one. I got so excited I couldn’t get back to sleep. Best to be prepared for things like that, in my book.
First off, I’d insist it was a nice, parallel universe, not a scary one like you see in films. I’m no ordinary fool. I’d want to go to one where things are more or less the same as here, but a lot more Christmassy. All year round. Lots of presents waiting to be opened every morning. And surprises. Lots of surprises.
And, well. Well, I wouldn’t want lots of nasty surprises. That goes without saying. Like finding creepy crawlies hiding beneath the bedclothes that are even creepier and crawlier than the creepy crawlies in this universe. Some really brainy scientists like that sort of stuff. I especially wouldn’t like them if there was no chance of going back.
And there would have to be lots of pubs with free beer and cosy log fires. With free steak and kidney pies. And free chips. Crispy chips. And comfy chairs. None of that cheap, plastic muck.
Inventions would have to be a lot different. There’d be none of those cartons you can’t drink milk from without spilling half all the way down your clean pyjamas, for a start. Or toilet lids that never stay up, and keep crashing down once you’ve turned your back. They shock the life out of me. As there’s supposed to be an infinite number of of parallel universes I expect a really, really, brainy, sort of boffin bloke would have no trouble finding one like that.
And I’d prefer not to have weapons of mass destruction. In fact, weapons of any sort wouldn’t ever be invented in my best parallel universe. Nor would those stupid, Chinese umbrellas that turn inside out in the slightest gust of wind.
My best parallel universe would have top, intellectual, boffin inventors like top, intellectual, boffin inventors in this universe, but with real human feelings. Top, intellectual, boffin inventors like Albert Einstein. But not quite. So you might have one called something like Alberto Einer Stein. He’d live in the United States of Ambrosia and become a top professor of physiques, and then invent his theory of relatives.
Instead of big bombs being developed, from his theory of relatives, nice bums would be developed for grandmas and aunties. Then he could win the Nubile Prize for Physiques. That sort of thing. I could go on with this, but I can tell some of you who aren’t scientific, like I am, are getting bored.
So what would you want to see in your best parallel universe?
Une fois. Encore.
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