The Business of Time Travel Tourism

Chapter 17: The Confrontation

 June 29, 2014. Sunday.

"Five pizzas to Mister Alfonso," said George entering the room.

He walked blindly towards its center with the pack of pizzas extended in front of him. The room's interior delved of ancient times: the shiny chandeliers over his head, the half -naked fat human statues lined by the wall, the wooden window arcs, carved in the shapes of wrapping vines, the furniture made of solid wood; it all added up perfectly and forged a place fit for the final confrontation between good and evil.

"Bottlemore, you can stop your charade. Your disguise can trick my guards, but it won't trick me," said Alfonso from a distance.

George put the pizzas down, reached for the belt on his shoulder and held it tightly. He tucked another hand into the deep back pocket, grabbed the tool he got from the Kerr children and continued his walk. The large sad time traveler sat on a tall wooden chair, his legs crossed, hand holding the chin. On the table in front of him a large book lay open, a computer monitor stood on the corner. A bit further behind him a lean man with an afro haircut read a book to a young woman confined to a chair. Both bad guys wore colorful summer shirts and shorts. Alfonso had the box that allowed to jump space on the wrist. George knew he had seen the captive somewhere but had difficulty remembering where.

Alfonso went on, "As soon as I saw your accomplice sneak in, I knew it was a matter of time before you arrived. You both come to face me unprepared, with no plan all. Like two little rabbits stepping into a lion's den to kill him with magic carrots, full of stupid optimism and belief that miracles come true. Well, guess what, you need more than your little petty gadgets and optimism to stop me. How fitting it will be for you to spend your time in my dungeon, tortured for what will appear as ages for the duration until my mission is complete. You both tried your best, even though it was not much. For that, I commend you."

His speech was interrupted by loud banging noises from a cupboard which had a chain and a lock on its handles. Sally shouted from inside, "Let me at him! I will make him eat his words! Let me at him!"

"Look at what awaits you." Alfonso gestured to the girl sitting on the chair.

Swinging back and forth like a crazy person, the girl begged, "Please, make him stop, make him stop."

"We will, my dear," said Alfonso. "Soon the suffering will end." He turned his eyes to George. "July, read on, show him."

July held the book in such way, that George could see the title on the cover. Written black on white the title was 'The Most Boring Book Ever Written.' He read the book, his voice much louder than before, "Do you hit snooze or turn off the alarm? Do you take a shower or run the bath? Do you have a bowl of cereal in the morning or skip breakfast? Do you turn off the freeway to avoid congestion or stay on the interstate? Do you keep waiting on hold or hang up the phone..."

"I can't take it, my head is going to explode, make him stop, please." The young woman sobbed, her head bent down, eyes piercing the ground.

George pulled out the magic stick from his pocket and pointing it at Alfonso, pushed the red button. It made no effect. He pressed the black button. Again, no effect. Pressing yellow (the tingling one) did nothing as well.

"You can't imagine what physical pain have I have endured in my life. The thing you hold is nothing compared it. The moment I learned true pain, I forgot what joy is. Neither have an effect on me. The tool in your hand is a joke," said Alfonso. "Now, do you see that girl? July could do this all day. George, imagine yourself listening to it for hours and hours, time ceasing to exist, your sanity slowly slipping away, your mind getting emptier and emptier until nothing remained. We will break you like a match."