Thanks for the Pepperoni

Here, There, and Everywhere

The day John decided to bring a time machine home was the worst day in Paul's life. He had been in the middle of an intense game of solitaire when he heard John's Rolls rumble into the driveway.

"MAAAAAACCCCCCAAAAAA!" Paul heard John scream as he slammed the car door.

Paul sighed and stood up, abandoning his solitaire game. He thought he would get back to it after he finished dealing with whatever stupid thing John wanted. Little did he know he would never finish the solitaire game.

Paul went to the kitchen and pushed the window up so he could stick his head out. "What do you want?"

"Look what I got," John said, gesturing to the large object haphazardly strapped to the top of his Rolls Royce.

"What is that?" Paul asked, peering at it.

"It's a time machine," John said proudly.

"It looks like an oversized Campbell's can."

John glanced up at the time machine that indeed resembled an oversize Campbell's can, complete with "Campbell's" across the side. "Never mind that. I got it from this guy downtown. He gave it to me for free. Strange, since it's a time machine. You'd think the government would want it or something."

"You do realize," Paul said slowly, "if he gave it to you for free and it looks like a can of soup, that it's probably fake, right?"

John blinked. "I don't think so. It's authentic, all right. Come and help me get it down. I almost threw out my back getting it on my car."

Together they heaved the time machine — aka the oversized Campbell's can — off the roof of John's car and set it in the front yard. They were both wheezing by the time they were finished.

"We probably shouldn't leave it here," John said, looking around. "The neighbors might decide to steal it."

Paul stared at him. "It looks like distasteful yard art. I don't think anyone is going to want a can of soup."

"It is not a can of soup," John spat. "I'll prove it to you. Get inside."

"What? I'm not going to do that!"

"If it's not a real time machine, why are you so afraid?" John asked with a smirk.

"I'm not afraid," Paul sputtered. "I just think it's ridiculous."

"Well, get in, then." John stood on the tips of his toes and pulled the lid off the can. "After you."

Paul looked between John, the lid in his hands, and the can. "Am I high?"

"If you were high, why would we see the exact same illusion?"

"It happened that one time when we were in Paris and we saw that donkey mime — "

John waved him away. "We agreed never to bring up the donkey mime ever again, didn't we?"

"Yes."

"Then stop talking about it."

Paul sighed. "I'll need a stool to get in." He went in the house and brought back a stool, placing it in the grass. He stepped onto it and carefully climbed into the time machine. "If you tip this thing over and roll me down the street, I'm going to kill you."

John smiled. "I swear I won't. Duck down."

Paul's head disappeared as he crouched down into the can.

John screwed the lid back on.

"It's not working," Paul called, his voice muffled.

"The man told me you had to kick it two times to get it going," John called back.