Well when we track across time & space... 'now'. haha, we find that strange things are moving, in directions that they shouldn't. Time travellers seem to be acting to a single organised purpose. Time travellers were packing up and leaving their temporary abodes. You can taste examples drifting out across the million air & mud of time... well well scum.
Chicken Mimmick, clucks through her big barn, collection of universal killing devices, picks up a small stone from under a pile of thermonuclear bottle openers, & the blurrs out into the ocean between dimensions.
And then there's old Lord Filth-Head with his proud and vast "Cluster Collections". There's his collection of Bottomy Clusters (anuses, rectums and genitalia), Lobotomy Clusters (living seperate brains and and central nervous systems), Written Clusters (books, newspapers, magazines) & Sodomy Clusters (Homosexual orgies locked in time into bottomy frenzies). All these different classes of clusters are all thrown in together in a big empty swimming pool (white, blue tiles) built in a cave below a permian-era, red-desert. This lot is a seething mass of disembodied bottoms whipping themselves on ancient texts and so on. He wades on through this lot and disappears through a drain outlet at the far side of the pool, marked "The Rest of the Universe", and that, apparently, was where he was going.
Our old mate, Old Tongue the Bearded Giraffe, she's tracking majestically across the savannah, a silhouette of a blue sky, past spreading acacias then seemingly with no change of pace. Folding out across dimensions.
These time travellers and many others are converging (covergent sequence) on a vast cave thousands of miles below the glassy smooth surface of the last few decades of the earth, as it orbits inside the outer atmosphere of the burning vast orb that is the red giant sun.
The're all assembled, chattering an' gibbering across the big echoey cave. At this convention:.. there's a stage and Dias, it's heaving and swaying and squigging a bit as delegates walk up on to it, simply because of the fact that it's made out of a hundred or so bottomy clusters ('kindly' provised by, you guessed, Lord FilthHead, well you mustn't look a gift horse in the orifice, now must you).
An yes they were all here, they really were, Lord FilthHead, Mr Scummy Scum Scum, Little-Red-Hiding-Place, Lauren Chayoss, Militant Invertibrate (who left off from organising the famous Woodlouse Strike of AD 14, where wood was not rotted or eaten for a whole year, especially to come here). Lord Feeler Guage, Lamaphile Trilobite, Chicken Mimmick, Old Tongue, and many others.
Someone dressed as a lamp-shade crawled up onto the steps (whoever it was appeared not to have very many legs) and tried to convene the meeting, but actually just managed to fall over. 'ventually Old Tongue, as a Gerbil on a skate board, called the meeting to order by spontaneously turning into a small active volcano, and then flicking back to gerbil, once the desired effect had been had, which was quite quick.
O.K. well we are here because of the universe, because of numbers, because of the geometry of time, space and the dodecahedron. All hedrons are made up of twelve faces, each an equal sided pentagon; put lines across between the corners and you get the five pointed star. Well it comes to pass that five entities in the universe of time & space, must be put to death by the multiple hands and claws and pseudopodia of the time travellers. That is why we are here. To decide the identity of these five.
There was a hushed silence, and the long noisy violent debate began.
"Call out suggestions" begged Old Tongue, shouting above the din, now as
a giraffe. Then he went on...
"We need to select five living entities across all of time and space,
but not ones that deserve to die, we must not judge, we're looking to
select types here, not individuals...
The suggestions began to come in, as shouts across the cave... Someone
bawled "One dog, one cat, one triceratops, and two trilobites".
"heh, now wait one fucking minute you scum", screamed back Lamaphile Trilobite,
through an interpreter, of course... Lamaphile Trilobite was an unusally
large (one foot across) specimen of a late cambrian trilobite, in a
large gold fish bowl... In his front eight legs he held and fondled a
small, very worn model of a peruvian llama, on account of him being very fond
of llamas... "and no fucking camels either", he went on... "I say, maybe a
couple of dogs... and three or four Anomalocarie (a trilobite predator).
"Me thinks" interposed Ms Scummy Scum Scum "that we're all getting too personal here".
More suggestions flopped in, and were lobbed out... "one human child, one pregnant male seahorse, one evangelist, one calvanistic aardvaark (i.e. to quote "I was destined to by God to be an aardvaark", unquote), and a Balbacca colony beast"... "Five Anomalocaris (Lamaphile Trilobite again) a bean a bean a half a bean, blah blah, etc...
This goes on and on... until a trend maybe is seen to begin to
develop... "Lets think about this... who really, as a species have made
a mess of this planet we are on now...?".
"That's it," shouts out Lamaphile Trilobite "five Anomalocaris it is."
"No No No,... well, there's a couple... the serak, the lemu, the human
beings... all advanced technological societies that blossomed, crapped their
shit into all the plates of the world feast... and then died out, poisoned
by their own filth"...
"Well, really I think it'd be fair to concentrate on these... they all thought they were so bloody clever anyhow, so I think they deserve our attention". All this was Chicken Mimmick speaking, not through an interpreter, but through a rolled up cone of paper... the clucks were loud. Or was it Old Tongue, lookin like a chicken (chicken mimmick mimmick chicken mimmick mimmick mimmick) it's all irrelevant, everything is interchangeable.
"OK so, for the sake of argument we'll select the human beings, they
were maybe even crazier than the rest"...
"one butcher, one baker, one machine gun maker, a porcupine plucker and
a sheep fucker"... "No no... a child, a zookeeper, an agony aunt or
uncle, and a systems analyst..." ... no... an artist, a chef, a waitress
from the country, a german aristocrat, and a terrorist".
"A terrorist, a microbiologist, Barry Powell and a politician..."
It still went on and on... like this account of it (sorry readers)...
"Make that two microbiologists, a politician and child tennis player
& Ken Dodd."
"This is getting too complicated, let's make it simple... one politician, one buddhist monk, one childminder, a scientist, an artist, and oh, another politician... That's six...?"
"Oh sod it... Five Politicians."
ALL AGREED, MEETING CLOSED