c
 V



One night near Hollywood, California Doyle Austin Murphy left his cramped one room apartment and began the three-
block hike to where he had parked his car. Doyle hated his hole in the wall apartment, but it seemed worth it whenever
he saw the city lights. As Doyle walked a man in a trench coat and ski mask jumped in front of him from a nearby alley.
   
   . Doyle stepped back in alarm. The man pulled out what looked like a laser pen
and shined a green beam in Doyle͛s face. Doyle went to strike the man but lost consciousness and fell to the ground.

Doyle awoke in the back of an alley. No one was around. Doyle stood up and discovered his clothing had been
changed. He was wearing a metallic looking silver jumpsuit. On his left hand he noticed a barcode shaped tattoo.

Doyle didn͛t have much time to assess his new situation. ͞I found him,͟ shouted a man in a military camouflage. 
 


 

. Similarly dressed men joined him and they all pointed guns at Doyle. Doyle put his
hands in the air. One of the men held out a remote and pressed a button causing some kind of wormhole to appear.
͞Step into the vortex,͟ directed the man. ͞I͛d rather be shot!͟ answered Doyle. ͞That͛s up to the courts,͟ the man
responded. ͞What am I being arrested for?͟ demanded Doyle. ͞Shut your mouth,͟ snapped one of the soldiers. The
soldiers tackled Doyle to the ground and handcuffed him. Shortly after Doyle and the soldiers all went through the
vortex. 

The vortex seemed to lead back to the same alley Doyle had come from. ͞Bag him!͟ ordered one of the men. A black
sack was placed over Doyle͛s head and he was placed in a vehicle. When the vehicle stopped Doyle was pulled out of the
car and dragged. Finally Doyle was pushed down into a chair and the sack was removed. 

Doyle could see he was in some kind of interrogation room. ͞Where͛s my lawyer?͟ Doyle asked. ͞Scan his hand,͟
ordered the interrogator. The interrogator wore a business suit and had thick facial hair. He had a crew cut and
appeared to be between forty and fifty years of age. A soldier grabbed Doyle͛s left hand and pressed what looked like a
calculator against it. ͞Commander Barnes, his I.D. is the wrong kind of ink,͟ the soldier replied. ͞You mean we got the
wrong Murphy?͟ the interrogating Barnes grumbled. ͞Yes, Sir,͟ said the soldier. ͞Put him in the hole for now,͟
Commander Barnes decided. 

Doyle was stripped of his jumpsuit and thrown into a small cell. ͞Put this on!͟ ordered a soldier. The soldier threw a
pink prison jumpsuit at him. Doyle caught it and the cell door closed leaving him in complete darkness. 

Time seemed to drag as Doyle waited in the darkness. He tried shouting for a long time, but there was no one to listen
so he became quiet. 

As time in the darkness pasted Doyle mind began to focus on random memories. He remembered times both good
and bad. At this moment he would have traded anything for the experience of being a prisoner in solitary confinement.
Then something strange began to happen. Doyle began remembering things that he hadn͛t experienced. One memory
stuck out the most. 

Doyle could remember standing next to a window with a riffle. He has looked through the scope and had a well-
dressed man in his sites. He took a few shots and a smile came to his face as his target fell to the ground. Doyle͛s jaw
dropped as he realized in this memory his target had been a man named Sebastian Stein, a man his memory seemed to
confirm was an American President. 

After an unknown period in the dark Doyle was taken to a room and a man with short red hair and a red beard was
introduced as Doyle͛s lawyer. ͞I͛m Samuel Gains,͟ introduced Doyle͛s lawyer, ͞You have been arrested for a crime you
will later commit. That vortex you were taken through has transported you to the future.͟ ͞Did I kill the President?͟
Doyle asked. ͞No,͟ said gains, ͞A future you killed President Gains, ͞The future you traveled to the past to escape police
and then framed you.͟ ͞The man in the ski mask!͟ Doyle gasped. ͞Yes,͟ explained Gains, ͞In the future you are the
leader of a group called the Truth defenders. That͛s why you were dressed in that silver jumpsuit. It is their military
uniform.͟ 

͞Why do I remember shooting the president if I haven͛t shot him yet?͟ Doyle asked. ͞It isn͛t known for sure,͟ Gains
answered, ͞but it may be a side affect of traveling to a future date where you are still alive. Your memories may be
catching up with those created by your future self.͟ 

͞Send me back to my time and I promise not to shoot the president then,͟ Doyle said. ͞It͛s not that simple,͟ Gains
explained, ͞Because your future crime is so serious and you have evaded authorities so long, the government is trying to
decide if sentencing you to death might be the best way to stop your future self. We can͛t simply take your word that
you will not kill the president. Even if you postpone it, there͛s no guarantee you won͛t change your mind.͟  

͞I͛m an innocent man!͟ Doyle claimed. ͞If you were still in the past you would be innocent,͟ Gains said, ͞Now that
you͛ve been brought to the future your crime has already been committed.͟ 

Soon Doyle was returned to the dark cell. More time passed until the door finally opened again. A soldier took him to
a small room and sat him next to Samuel Gains. A judge came in and everyone stood up. ͞You may be seated,͟ said the
judge. Everyone sat back down. ͞Okay,͟ said the judge, ͞ I have tried to keep this trial as discreet as possible. We are
meeting outside my courtroom because we don͛t want the media to know about this trial until either Mr. Murphy is
sentenced, or his counterpart is captured. Prosecution, please call your first witness." 

A tall slender blonde woman arose. ͞Your Honor,͟ she said, ͞The Prosecution calls Dr. Darrell Emit to the stand. Dr.
Emit was sworn in and the questioning began. ͞Dr. Emit,͟ the prosecution began, ͞please tell us about your expertise.͟
͞I am an expert in the field of time travel,͟ Dr. Emit said, ͞I have received a doctorate in that field.͟ ͞ Dr. Emit, please
point out to the court the person being accused of murdering President Stein,͟ asked the prosecution. ͞That would be
Mr. Doyle Austin Murphy of course,͟ Answered Dr. Emit. ͞And has the murder taken place yet?͟ asked the prosecutor.
͞Yes it has,͟ agreed Dr. Emit. 

Suddenly the door burst open and in walked President Stein. ͞President Stein?͟ gasped the judge, ͞You were
pronounced dead.͟ ͞I remember being shot and dying but something has changed,͟ explained the President, ͞But I want
to see Mr. Murphy convicted so that it doesn͛t happen again.͟ ͞Excuse me Mr. President,͟ announced Dr. Emit, ͞but
convicting Mr. Murphy would be a chronological impossibility.͟ 

͞How so?͟ asked the judge. ͞We all have memory of the President͛s death and yet something has prevented it,͟
explained Dr. Emit, ͞Therefore, either Mr. Murphy͛s trip to the future has changed his mind about killing the President
or some other force prevents it. This would mean that as the timeline stands currently, neither Mr. Murphy, nor his
counterpart has murdered the President. 

͞Then why is Mr. Murphy still here?͟ asked the prosecutor. ͞The effects of time alteration are still catching up,͟ said
Dr. Emit, ͟At some point Mr. Murphy will return to the past.͟ 

A few moments later Doyle felt a chill through his body. His became lighter and soon clear. The courtroom froze in
awe as Doyle began to disintegrate. He lost consciousness for a brief moment and then regained it. Doyle looked around
to find himself in the alley where he had been arrested. He examined himself to find that he was wearing the silver
jumpsuit again. He looked at his hand to find the barcode was still there. 
 Doyle returned to his apartment. This time it didn͛t feel so small and depressing. He decided it was time for some
much-needed rest. Doyle was asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow. He began to dream about his visit to his trip to
the future. He remembered being in the dark cell and having memories that hadn͛t happened yet. As he relived the
assassination memory it was different. Before he had remembered shooting from a window. This time he remembered
holding a detonator. Then it hit him. Doyle woke up in a sweat. His future counterpart was still in the past. A few hours
from then his future self would be bombing Sebastian Stein͛s hotel. Doyle focused on his memories for a moment. ͞The
Pacific Hotel,͟ Doyle said aloud. He contacted the hotel, the police, and the bomb squad. Doyle wasn͛t going to leave
anything to chance. He remembered where his counterpart was with the detonator and wanted to watch the police
arrest him. In a motel room facing the Pacific Hotel he remembered triggering the detonator. Doyle parked on the side
of the road between the motel and the hotel and waited to see if his rescue plans had succeeded. Suddenly the
passenger door open and his future counterpart sat down. ͞I remember this,͟ future Doyle said, ͞ But this time I͛m not
going to fail.͟ ͞Yes, you are,͟ regular Doyle said pulling out a pistol, ͞Step out of the car and put the detonator on the
ground.͟ Future Doyle listened and Doyle got out of the car too. ͞Now,͟ said regular Doyle, ͟Go back to the future and
never return.͟ ͞This was a one-way trip,͟ said future Doyle, ͞but time takes care of itself and I will soon disappear. If I
can kill Senator Stein before he becomes president then I will be saving the future.͟ ͞Future Doyle lunged at regular
Doyle, knocking the gun out of his hand. Future Doyle picked up the detonator and continued explaining. ͞Take a
moment to remember and you will know what a terrible impact Stein͛s presidency causes,͟ future Doyle explained.
Regular Doyle knocked the detonator out of future Doyle͛s hand and slammed him against a wall. ͞I can͛t believe we are
the same person,͟ regular Doyle said. ͞No,͟ shrieked future Doyle as he began to disintegrate. 

Regular Doyle turned to discover a police officer that appeared to be in shock. Doyle put his hands in the air. ͞It͛s
okay,͟ declared the police officer as he approached Doyle, ͞ I saw a man disappear into thin air, but I also witnessed you
stopping him from blowing up a building. You are a hero as far as I͛m concerned.͟ !

Doyle became a public hero. He was on the news and was given a key to the city. When Senator Stein found out about
Doyle͛s heroism he invited Doyle to have dinner with him to discuss a reward. 

Doyle felt he had come full circle. He had gone from public enemy to public hero. Doyle washed up and put on his
nicest suit for his dinner with the Senator. He took a moment to reflect and suddenly memories flooded his mind.
Images of soldiers breaking into people͛s homes and putting them on trains. Images of those trains arriving at some
futuristic version of concentration camps. Memories of himself leading a group called the Truth Defenders, the only
group able to fight an American government oppressing its own citizens.  

He now knew that he had become future Doyle for a good reason. The doorbell rang and it was Senator Stein. ͞Hello,
Senator,͟ Doyle said, ͞I͛ll be right out.͟ Doyle looked through his cupboards and drawers for a moment. He looked
carefully at his set of kitchen knives and then the various cleaners, as well as the various bug killers and rat poisons
available to him. He started to think the future could be bright after all.  

͞Thank you for waiting, Senator Stein,͟ Doyle said. ͞No problem, Doyle,͟ said Senator Stein, ͞I͛ve been looking
forward to meeting with you.͟ ͞Same here,͟ Doyle said, ͞Same here.͟ 
cc

c V




Mick Sunderland's throat burned as the sandwich in his mouth blocked the path of air to his lungs. His son Larry
Sunderland stood with his eyes bulging at the television, completely tuning his father out. Mick Sunderland was a
sandwich deli manager by day and a champion sandwich eater by night. Taking into account that he was a balding, fat
man who enjoyed wearing shorts and a Hawaiian shirt, can you blame him for focusing his life on sandwiches? 

Now it seemed his sandwich days just might be over. Mick's life flashed before his eyes. He saw himself at age two
eating his first sandwich. He had gone to the kitchen seeking his mother's attention. Instead she trapped him in a high
chair and gave him a sandwich cut into triangle halves. His mother then left the room. His whole life had revolved
around sandwiches. He saw himself at different times in his childhood going to his parents for advice. Every time they
brushed him off and handed him a sandwich. Eventually he stopped seeking their advice. He had discovered a solution
to every problem. Whenever things didn't go right, he made a sandwich. Soon the time came where he was always
having a sandwich. When a problem wasn't there, he created an excuse for another sandwich. 

Before Larry was born his mother Ruth had become a popular television anchor. She was so popular with viewers that
she later became a talk show host as well. When Ruth and Mick got married, Ruth persuaded a television network to let
Mick do a cooking show. Mick of course based each episode on sandwiches until one day the network wanted him to do
an episode on something other than a sandwich. He refused and eventually lost his job. He later opened a sandwich deli.



For the first time in his life Mick realized the seriousness of his compulsion. As Mick's face began to turn purple he
began to reflect on the impact he had made on his son Larry's life. Mick had raised Larry to have a better relationship
with the television than anyone or anything else. The very mistake that would ensure that Mick would not survive the
deadly bite of sandwich stuck in his throat. 

There were many events that would lead to Larry's television consumed childhood. It perhaps started when Larry was
an infant.  " #"$
. One day Ruth had a show to do and the babysitter had cancelled at the last
minute. Ruth rushed Larry over to the deli so that Mick could watch him. The sandwich shop was busy that day so Mick
placed the child in an office behind the front counter. This back room had two televisions. Mick turned on the first
television and tuned it into his wife's program. He then pointed to the television and exclaimed, "Mommy!" Next he
turned on the second television and turned it to a rerun of his old cooking show. Pointing to the second television he
exclaimed, "Daddy!" From that point on Larry had been raised by the television. Even when the babysitter was available,
she would place Larry in front of the television and go into another room. 

Soon tunnel vision began to set in for Mick. He strained to see clearly, but things were starting to blur. He decided that
maybe he could save himself. Maybe if he could run stomach first into the back of his cushioned armchair he could
accomplish it. He would have to hurry up, because he was beginning to feel dizzy. He stood up and ran into the next
room. It just so happens that the next room was the kitchen. While attempting to turn around and head with a running
start toward the armchair, he lost his balance. Mick caught his shoulder on the fridge door as he began to fall. The fridge
door opened so forcefully that it began to tip over. Mick landed on his back and the fridge landed on him. %
 &
" . The force of the fridge landing on his stomach dislodged the sandwich from his throat while
knocking him unconscious. 
 Mick awoke to find himself in a hospital bed. Larry sat at the foot of the bed staring at a television. To Mick's right
stood his wife looking down on him. "Doctor, he's awake!" Ruth cried out. A doctor stepped into the room and began to
examine him. "I need to speak to your husband alone please," the Doctor told Mrs. Sunderland. "Can't we wait until a
commercial break?" asked Larry. "Larry!" scolded Ruth. "There's another television in the waiting room," the Doctor
said. 

"I'm Dr. Rutherford, " Introduced the Doctor as soon as they were alone. "Doctor Rutherford, what happened? Will I
be okay?" asked Mick. "Mr. Sunderland, you are an obese man. Your cholesterol is off the charts, and you are lucky to be
alive." "I knew that Doctor," Mick confessed, "What else is wrong with me." "Mr. Sunderland, the list is endless ͙ as for
your most recent injury ͙ you have fractured ribs and bruises all over. When your wife found you," he continued, " you
were covered in sandwich materials and you almost drowned yourself in a puddle of pickle juice." "What should I do?"
Mick asked. "I'm releasing you from the hospital, Dr. Rutherford answered, "Get plenty of bed rest and start eating
healthier." 

By the next day Mick was lying in his own bed thinking about the recent turn of events in his life. He had seen his life
flash before his eyes. % 
& #

. He had escaped death twice in a matter of a few minutes. He
didn't want these experiences to be in vain. He was unhappy and he wanted to change. So he decided to take action. He
got up out of bed and headed into the kitchen. He grabbed a waste basket from under the sink and opened the new
fridge. Inside the fridge was covered with piles of cheese and sandwich meat, pickles, tomatoes, mustard, and many
other sandwich foods. He grabbed at it a handful at a time and emptied it into the waste basket and placed it once again
under the sink.  

Next he went into the living room. He hoped to make up on lost time with his son Larry. "How are you son?" he piped.
"Dad, you're making me miss the show!" complained Larry. "That is the last straw!" Mick stomped. Mick stomped his
feet as he trotted toward the living room television. He grabbed it and lifted it high above his head. "Dad, what are you
doing?" wined Larry. With a newfound energy, Mick threw the big screen television down the stairs. It broke in pieces
and began to smoke. By now Mick was beginning to feel the consequences of lifting heavy objects in his injured
condition. He stumbled into the kitchen and leaned on a counter top to rest for a moment. He then grabbed a chair from
the kitchen table. Larry raced into the kitchen to rescue the kitchen television, but he was too late. Mick smashed the
television off the wall with the back of the chair.  

Larry was beginning to catch onto his father's motive. Larry ran into the dining room and grabbed the television. Mick
followed him into the study. "We have way too many televisions Larry," Mick said calmly, "They are coming between
us." "You stay away from them," warned Larry, "What did they ever do to you anyway?" "I ALMOST DIED BECAUSE OF
ONE OF THEM!" came Mick's raised voice. "You aren't well right now," suggested Larry, "why don't you go back to bed
and get some rest." "I can't rest until every television in this house is gone." Mick demanded. Mick continued to travel
through the house destroying every television in sight. At last there was one television remaining. This was the one Larry
held in his arms. 

Larry carried the television into his room and plugged it in. He set it down on the carpet and quickly flipped through
the channels. Mick prepared himself for a running kick. He built up momentum and charged the television. Moments
before Mick's foot reached it, Larry grabbed the television and held it up. "Look Dad," Larry called, "It's Mom!" Mick was
startled and stopped so abruptly that he fell on his back. Mick was unable to move. He stared over in a daze at the
television. He could see an image of his wife talking excitedly. Missing half of what had been said he strained to discover
what she was so excited about. Then a new picture flashed up on the screen. It was some kind of meteor. He now was
listening even closer to hear what was being said. "If you have just joined us, a meteor is headed straight for the Earth,"
Ruth announced in her anchor voice, "The government, the military, the United Nations, and NASA have all failed to stop
it. There's no time for anyone's evacuation, Sources say that the public has not been informed until now in hopes of
postponing panic." 

Mick and Larry were both in shock. "Experts say," finished Ruth, "That it will completely impact and destroy the Earth
in about five hours. This is Ruth Sunderland reporting, God help us all." "Larry," Mick said, "I need you to hand me the
phone." Larry handed a wireless phone and he began to dial. "Hello, Vince, I want you to close down the deli for the day
and send everyone home." !

Larry looked at his father, then at the television, and then back at his father. Then he did something amazing.
Something so astonishing that it sent chills down his father's spine. Larry for the first time in his life, turned off the
television. "Are you okay, Dad?" Larry asked. "Son," Mick responded, "I can't move a muscle, but I am the happiest I've
been in a long time." !

A short time later Mick was once again in the hospital. As he laid in another hospital bed, Mick glanced up to see his
son looking at him with concern. "Dad, I called Mom and she couldn't get off work to come see you," Larry told him, "I'm
sorry about that." "Don't worry about it son," Mick sighed, "I'm used to it." Soon the Doctor came into the room.
"Hello," he introduced, "I'm Doctor Ruther.. Oh, it's you Mr. Sunderland." "Hello," winced Mick, expecting to be insulted.
"Mick," the Doctor confessed, "My bedside manner has been terrible." Mick's eyes widened in surprise. "I want to
apologize for the way I talked to you last time," he continued. "Apology accepted!" Mick smiled. "Mr. Sunderland,
because of the recent turn of events our beds are overcrowded, we will have to release you again, but I sincerely hope
you will get some rest this time," the Doctor said. "Oh, I'll make sure he does Doctor, " Larry promised. 

With one hour until impact, Ruth Sunderland stood gazing up at the meteor in the sky. "As you can see," Ruth told the
camera, "the meteor is close approaching." Ruth then stopped a couple and their little boy who were running in a state
of panic. "Sir!" shouted Ruth poking the microphone in his face, "How do you feel right now?" "Daddy, I'm scared!"
interrupted the little boy. "It's okay honey, "his mother consoled, "As long as we are together, there's nothing to fear."
Ruth stood for a moment looking at the family. Then she looked up in the sky above her. At that moment something
clicked. Here she was spending her last hour of life all alone waiting for death to come. She turned to the camera, leaned
into the microphone and uttered, "I'm going home."  

Finally, the family was together again. There was no longer work, or television, or sandwiches to stand in their way.
They had what was most important, each other. They would spend the remaining twelve minutes together. Mick lay
once again at home in bed. This time he had Ruth and Larry on either side of him. He was happier than he had ever
been. He almost was happy to die the way he would.  

Soon those twelve minutes were gone. That's when another amazing thing happened. The meteor rushed toward the
earth with great speed and when it was a hundred feet from the ground it stopped. No one could explain why the
Meteor never hit the earth. Some called it a miracle and others searched for some scientific explanation. But when later
asked about the meteor, everyone said it had made their lives worth living.