"* *" "Okay, Kowalski, wow me." "Behold a portal to time's past:" "The chronotron." "So... it's a time machine?" "Well, yes." "So why not call it a time machine?" "Yeah, okay." "And while we're at it, let's just call the Great Wall a fence," "Mona Lisa a doodle," "And Albert Einstein Mr. Smarty Pants." "Oh, Skipper, I don't think you're seeing the big picture here." "With the chronotron, we'll be able to visit any period in history." "Outstanding." "Finally those hippies can be stopped." "Come on, Rico." "Hippies." "Hold on, Skipper." "The chronotron needs just one more thing before it's fully functional:" "five ounces of macguffium 239." "Fortunately I know where to find some right here in midtown." "Oof." "The macguffium is somewhere in this lab." "Spread out, men." "Hello?" "Macguffium?" "Ah!" "Private, you have got to stop me!" "Um, okay." "Kowalski, stop, please." "No, not me me." "That me." "Hmm, nope." "Ah... nope." "Ooh... no." "There's two of you?" "Private, I have come from the future." "Heh-heh." "There's two of you." "That's a smashing trick." "How did you do it, mirrors?" "Or is that Rico in a Kowalski costume?" "Private, can you think of even one time" "I have played a trick or even told a joke?" "You really are from the future." "Tell me, am I living in a cottage in Nova Scotia, happily married with one egg and another on the way?" "Eh, no." "Oh." "But we have more pressing concerns." "If my past self completes the chronotron, it will lead to nothing but disaster and chaos." "So go tell yourself." "You're sure to listen to you." "All right..." "No!" "If I meet my present self, the space-time continuum would be ripped asunder by a chronal vortex." "Oh, dear." "Ah-ha." "Here it is." "Five ounces of macguffium 239." "You've got to get that macguffium, Private, or the entire universe will be destroyed." "The entire universe?" "Yes!" "No pressure." "Ah, think of all the famous historical figures we'll be able to meet." "Yeah, like, uh, uh..." "Well, actually, I..." "I just want to slap a hippy or two," "Maybe make 'em get jobs." "Oh!" "How about you, Private?" "Private?" "History will unfold before our very eyes." "We'll watch primordial ooze form, witness dinosaurs battle for survival..." "Ow." "Stupid flying glowy bottle." "Behold primitive penguins rise as the dominant species." "And it's all thanks to this macguffium 239." "Could I hold it for a moment?" "All right." "Just be care..." "Whoops, I spilled it." "Oh, no." "Oh, dear, now I seem to be accidentally trodding upon it." "My... my... my macguffium, ruined." "Oh gee, Kowalski, I'm sorry." "I guess no time traveling for us." "Well, good thing I grabbed a back-up." "Always prepare, baby." "Ah-ha." "Good show." "It'll take a few minutes to install the macguffium." "Wake me when it's time travel time." "Roger that." "Um, excuse me." "I have to do a thing over there, so..." "What do you mean, you didn't destroy the macguffium?" "I'm sorry, future Kowalski." "Well, then the universe is doomed!" "If only you could explain this to yourself without destroying the space-time condominium." "Continuum." "Right." "Maybe I can." "Wrench?" "Pliers." "Six quarts of 30 weight oil." "Ooh!" "Hello, boys." "Hello, Private." "What's with the box?" "Shoes." "Why?" "What's so suspicious about a penguin and his shoe box?" "Nothing, except we don't wear shoes." "Hmm, yes, quite true." "Oh, that reminds me, Kowalski." "Have you considered the dangers of a chronopath pair of ducks?" "I mean, a chronopath paradox?" "Which has nothing to do with water fowl, apparently." "Chronopath paradox?" "Wait." "Are you saying that the chronotron could cause a time-spatial distortion?" "Don't know." "Am I?" "Uh, yes, I think I am." "Einstein's undies." "I didn't think of that at all." "It could spell the end of the universe." "So I'm told." "Skipper, you've got to stop me!" "Ow!" "There, you're stopped." "No, not me me." "That me." "I must destroy the chronotron." "There's two of you?" "You're from the future." "Tell me, does the Earth become a post-apocalyptic wasteland, terrorized by roving bands of irradiated mutants?" "Eh, no." "Oh." "But we have more pressing concerns." "Another future me has come to this time to convince the present me to destroy my chronotron, which I've only just learned is key to the survival of the universe." "Time travel." "All you want is to slap a hippy, but all you get is multiple Kowalskis." "Not to worry, Skipper." "I know just what to do." "And so dies the dream of time travel." "You do it, Rico." "You destroy all my hopes, dreams, and everything I ever lived for." "Okay." "Oh, hey there, boys." "Uh, what's going on?" "Skipper, what's in this sack?" "Laundry." "Why?" "What's wrong with a penguin and his sack of laundry?" "Well, nothing, except we don't wear clothes." "Well, yeah, 'cause they're dirty." "Can we please just get on with crushing my dreams?" "Hey, speaking of," "Kowalski, have you considered the, uh, uh..." "Right, right, the reverse chronology dilation backlash." "Brahe's boxers, I didn't think of that either." "Maybe the chronotron is safe after all." "But... but the quantum entanglements disrupt any chrono backlash." "Good golly, I suppose that's true." "Yet the quantum entanglements dissipate in the presence of some photonic gobbledygook thing." "I don't know what to do." "Private, Kowalski's making his time machine, and that's final." "Skipper, please forgive me for this." "Ah!" "Ah, Private, drop that macguffium." "Ah!" "Ooh!" " Ooh!" " Sorry, Skipper." "Hey." "Ah!" "Oh, look at them, Maurice." "Why can't we play affectionately like that?" "Private, listen, I have a Kowalski from the future who..." "What, you have a future Kowalski?" "I have a future Kowalski." "And mine says the chronotron must be destroyed." "Well, mine says it must be saved." "Oh, dear." "Which future Kowalski do we listen to?" "I say... the one that lets me slap a hippy." "I got it, Kowalski." "Now fire up that time machine." "I can't let you do that, Skipper." "And I can't let you do that." "Two Kowalskis." "It's the end of the universe." "Pff, don't get your feathers in a bunch, Private." "So long as the present kowalski doesn't see us, we should all be..." "Ow." "Whoa." "Newton's knickers." "Uh-oh." "What a..." "I mean..." "are... are you..." "I mean, mes from the future?" "Precisely." "Wow, we are really good-looking." "Mm-hmm." "But the three of us in one place, the danger, it'll shred time-space." "It could create a rip in the very fabric of the universe." "Like that?" "Ah!" "The... the winkys!" "Ah!" "Ah!" "No!" "Eh!" "Ah!" "I never should have created this chronotron." "I had no idea." "But private did." "He understands." "I'll go back in time and talk to Private." "He'll stop me before any of this happens." "Ah!" "Yep, and that's how I got here." "Huh, it's kind of ironic." "If you hadn't created the chronotron, then you couldn't go back in time to tell yourself not to make it." "Fenneman's fellies, a paradox." "I've got to make sure that I do invent the chronotron." "Skipper." "I'll go back in time and talk to Skipper." "He's the only hope for the universe." "Ah!" "Yep, and that's how I got here." "So we're back to just one Kowalski?" "Affirmative." "Then give me some options." "How do we stop this thing?" "We can't." "It'll just get bigger and bigger and..." "Then it'll stop for a while." "Whew." "But then it'll get bigger still!" "Eventually it will swallow the whole universe!" "Rico, you did it." "Well done." "But... but that..." "that shouldn't have worked." "It... it breaks all known rules of the universe." "And that's why we call Rico a maverick." "He makes his own rules." "Yeah." "But... but... but the..." "the universe." "Problem solved." "Now, go invent something that won't destroy the world." "Like a snow cone machine." "Snow cone." "Snow cones." "Kowalski." "You maniac." "You did it." "You finally really did it." "Yeah." "But you got to admit, these are good snow cones." "Oh, sure, totally worth it."