I was eating fried flamingo down in Detroit on 8 Mile Road when suddenly an astrophysicist came crashing down through the ceiling and on to my table. She began to raise a ruckus and quite a quarrel about why my table was in her way.
"Way to what?" I queried.
"The floor. I supposed to hit the floor."
"Um, am I being filmed? Is this on YouTube?"
"YouTube? Ah...no. Much more important than that. If things go well or as I envisioned then I may have solved the secret to the universe."
"The secret to the universe is going to be found in Detroit?"
"Sir, Detroit is the secret of the universe."
"Really. I woulda figured Kansas City."
"You're obviously not an astrophysicist."
"How'd you tell?"
"You don't have a moustache."
"Ma'am, you don't have one either."
"That's cause I wax."
"Then how do your peers tell you're an astro..."
"My white coat is a dead giveaway."
"And falling from ceilings in soul food restaraunts."
"Hazards of the job."
"So what, you were time traveling and got off track and ended up on my flamingo sandwhich?"
"The Delorean took a wrong turn."
"Detroit never liked Deloreans."
"That's why Detroit is stuck in the past."
