I am not sure who came up with the idea of the multiverse, but it was probably one of those smart guys like Albert Einstein or perhaps Sheldon Cooper. The idea is that there are parallel universes, and we exist in each one in a slightly different form. As an example, next door I’ll bet I am good looking and rich while George Clooney is ugly and broke.
Its existence has been debated in smoky, late-night college dorm rooms for a long time without conclusion. Except now—I have proof.
Guns often have spring-loaded parts, pawls, detent balls, pins and multiple other necessary pieces. Anybody who has tinkered on guns much knows that these parts will launch and fly as fast and far as anything that Elon Musk ever made. They are restless little critters that never want to stay home and they often run away, never to be seen again.
So where do they go? For years that was a bigger mystery than the meaning of life. For example, my shop is not all that big, about 24 feet on a side. I bought a two-car garage kit from the local lumber yard and hired a boss man with a bunch of wide-eyed weirdos to put it together. If all the lost parts over the decades were still in the building, there would be no way you could even walk through the clutter. Yeah, OK, I understand that’s the case now, but it’s clearly not lost gun parts getting in the path. So where did all that stuff go?
Just like those smart guys, I have a theory.
A while back, I decided to be one of those influencer types. Everybody else is getting rich videoing the stuff they do, so why can’t I? The problem is, I wasn’t sure how to go about it, so I hired a “consultant.” Given what they charge, I should be a consultant, clearly it pays well.
That blue-haired, tattooed lady told me that to succeed, I need rainbow hair and should probably switch genders. The hair might be on the table, but that gender thing is out—I ain’t letting nobody alter my plumbing, at least not unless it pays a lot more money than what she said. Anyway, I started videoing everything I do.
When a spring-loaded part launched, I heard it strike the wall like the other billion times, and I thought I knew where to start my search. Except, it wasn’t there. It never is.
I looked for about two days before I remembered I had the phone making a video. That’s how I know it switched universes!
When I slowed down the video, the flying part was about 2 feet directly over my bench when it hesitated, just for a nanosecond, like it struck something invisible. There was a flash of light and it was gone. I heard it hit the wall after that, so I suspect that there is an acoustic connection between universes. I’ll bet that’s just to mess with us and is an indication that whoever designed this mess has a sense of humor, even if it is a bit mean.
My theory is that it hit a weak spot in the membrane and, to paraphrase the great
Jim Morrison, it “broke on through to the other side!”
If my theory is correct, there is a huge pile of gun parts over there, just sitting. Why? Well, nobody on this side is big on tidying up their work space, so why would it be different in the 2.0? There has to be a likely gold mine in gun parts just waiting, piled up against the membrane of the universe. If I could collect all those lost parts and put them on GunBroker, maybe I could abandon my dreams of being an influencer and make some money.
So, to get to my point; anybody got any ideas? I heard that gremlins—the real ones, not those imposters in the movies—can get the job done. I think they first came into notice during World War II, but everyone I knew from that timeframe is gone. The web is useless, just stuff about the movie. I looked on Amazon to see if I could buy a dozen, but all they have is movie stuff, too. I ran an ad on that Facebook Market thing and man did I meet some weird people. I got scared and changed my phone number.
I need real-life gremlins, some that can travel back and forth at night to gather all those parts.
So, can anyone help? If I can make this work, I’ll lobby the editor here to let me write a feature about how I did it. Then you folks can retrieve all your spring-loaded stuff that’s gone missing over the years for your own selves.
Maybe afterward we can sell the gremlins and start a new pet fad. Who knows, It might even inspire a movie.