Challenge #00892-B161: Malevolent Dictatorship

Person #1: Y'know, despite the fact that we’ve been conquered by a mad scientist, you’ve got to admit at least they make the trains run on time.



Person #2: So the train /won’t/ be late?



Person #1: Might be a bit early. And on fire. With electricity flying off it. And a dark cloud of doom preceding it. And a strange, shrill laugh.



Person #3: You know, like the 11:25 one.

Say what you like about Mad

Doctor Snapcase… in fact, he rather insists you say what you like

about him. Preferably in a really loud voice with clear enunciation.

That way, the secret spy devices installed for free in every home can

pick it up. And then the secret police can pick you up in short order.

It’s more efficient, that way.

But

for those who survive the obvious intelligence test, things are not so bad in the newly-renamed Snapcasedonia. The trains and the buses all run

on time. He had to re-order time especially for that, you know.

And while we’re enjoying the benefits of the resultant temporal freedom, let’s give thanks for those. Loudly. In a nice, clear voice. For

instance - life is an all-day breakfast. And an all-day lunch. And an

all-day dinner. Whatever your food fancy, you can have it, all day long.

You

can pick and choose your birthdays. Eternal youth is just around the corner. Literally. No, not that corner, the other corner. Run! You can

still catch it!

Faster! Faster! Left, left, right, left left right, leftleftright…

Oops. Looks like the cost of eternal youth is eternally chasing it in an infinite temporal loop.

The management does not have to apologise for that inconvenience. After all, you got exactly what you wanted.

You

don’t even have to go to work. Some alternate, temporally-inconvenienced echo of yourself is enjoying the benefits of a

perpetual workday! You, gorging yourself on your all-day feast, get paid for their hard and, indeed, eternal labour.

And if you’re

listening in the office, don’t despise your boss. It’s not worth your

energy. Despise, instead, the temporally-advantaged echo of yourself who

is growing fat on that luxury ice-cream you purchased last week. And won’t share. That bastard.

We can’t choose which temporal echoes we experience. We must enjoy the ones we have. We must enjoy them. Mad Doctor Snapcase insists that we do.

Loudly.

And in a nice, clear voice…

[Muse food remaining: 16. Submit a prompt! Ask a question! Buy my stories!]