15th
Q*AP
Future Me: [smashes through the living room window]
Today Me: Holy gosh!
FM: It’s me! Future You!
TM: Future Me?
FM: The fuck did I just say.
TM: OK, um, language?
FM: I use terrible language in the future. But if you’d seen what I’ve seen, you’d let the Q-bombs fly, too.
TM: I … what is the Q-bomb again?
FM: Quap. Maybe the worst thing you could ever say. It’s really bad. It makes you feel just awful to hear it or say it. But I mean whatever, the future is filled with stuff that just makes you yell the worst possible swear there is. That’s pretty much all we do anymore.
TM: Well maybe you could—
FM: Hey man. [gently caresses my shoulder] Sorry. Shouldn’t’ve said the Q word in front of you.
TM: It’s all right. I think I’m going to start using it. Sometimes I’ll be driving and I need to yell a bad swear but none of the ones I know really do it for me anymore.
FM: Dude. Listen. The Q word isn’t invented for another ten years. You start rolling down your window and calling some guy a quapo — sorry, that is so offensive — but you call a guy that and pretty soon the word’s all watered down and us in the future won’t have it. And we need it.
TM: Oh boo hoo. Why don’t you take your quapo haircut and get out of here? Right after you give me future money to fix my window.
FM: You’re being really hurtful right now.
TM: You can take it.
FM: We both know I can’t. We both know how fragile I am.
TM: I was hoping in the future I’d be a little tougher. Manlier.
FM: There are pills you can take but they aren’t cheap and we aren’t exactly making bank at our job at Future Fried Chicken.
TM: Oh my god.
