Where's My Goddamn Dinosaur?
Tim closes his eyes, calculating. Based on the energy involved for a one week reset, he’s looking at a minimum displacement of about five years for the copy. His eyes sting as he fully grasps that if this works, one Tim will get to reunite with his friends and family, hold them and speak to them again, and work together to unleash all the contingencies and strategies he’s come up with to kick those invading alien assholes the fuck out, and the other Tim, the copy… won’t. He’ll wake up somewhen, isolated and traumatized, without friends, family, or any allies at all.
Well, shit. Whatever, at least Other Tim will know it worked. And he’s never minded the idea of sacrificing himself to save others. He confirms the calibration of the device, and pushes the big red button. Of fucking course there’s a big red button, supervillains are so predictable.
His last thought as the lights explode in his head and he tastes color is I hope computers are a thing whenever Other Tim lands. I’d hate to be put on trial for witchcraft. Fuck it, if I overshoot I’m gonna ride a goddamn dinosaur. Hell. Yes.