A Serf Through Time

It was Halloween Night. Or “All Hallows’ Eve” as your coworker Gary would probably say. The moon was full, just like Gary was full of BS. It was maddening how much you thought about Gary actually, despite the fact that you hadn’t seen him in person in over 7 months.

God Gary was annoying. Always Olde English this, Renaissance Faire that. He dressed in some awful blend of business casual and Medieval Times—lots of suede, deep necklines. When he spoke, he got just a little too close. His breath wasn't awful, but frequently smelled of shallots.

Little did we know Gary was just pretending to be a 21st century man. He had been tending his shallot crop on a stormy day in 1373, when bolt of lightning shocked him sideways through space time. He was very lucky to find that job at Medieval Times, serving ale.

When he had applied for the position they were impressed with his ability to stay in character. Tomorrow marked his 3 year anniversary at Medieval Times. His wife, who he had met there, was surprising him with a party. Little did he know the time portal was about to open again.

"Surprise!" It was the third anniversary. His wife looked dazzling as she eagerly pulled him into the party scene. It should have been a happy day, but that was when he felt the familiar sensation. The time portal! But they told him it would never open again! But that was when

they didn't know about Temporal Rift Echoes. Time tore at the seams. The party goers' eyes widened at the appearance of the party's new guests. Mata Hari took some cake. A Roman senator flirted with his sister. A trilobite crawled in his wife's wine glass. "Oh well," he said.