Beer: The Real Reason Why Civilization Exists.

Arms shrugging, cogitating on the inductive idea that frenzied exposure to Plutonium had finally done the old man in, Marty – of that fabled clan McFly – tried to get a handle on the volatile situation. “Let’s just calm… Ahhh! Ahhh!”

“My God, Marty, it’s got a bar of soup! The cruelty! The excess inhumanity!” The batty scientist dove for his teenage companion and flew off the page in an effluvium of noxious fumes; pants taking the brunt of the assault.

And that, in a rather bizarre nutshell, is how I became the proud owner of a time machine. All aboard! Down the darkened corner, a renowned Time-Lord halted his step and did an 180º, whistling Dixie, minding his own business and searching for a new looker waylay into his blue box.

Now, let’s see. Pedal to the metal. Down the space-time continuum, sanity tied up in our trunk with a nasty gash on its forehead. Tires screeching, flames billowing from below the rims, full orchestra in the background; the stuff of epics. Is that Huey Lewis trying to hitchhike? Never mind. Windows up, past the psychedelic sixties. Barreling across No-Man’s Land, a soccer ball bouncing off the rearview. A mad dash through a few drab and dreary centuries. Bye-bye. Sanity banging on the trunk, calling out for his mother. Italy during the Renascence; the vogue awareness that “Al Fresco” was simply code for “let’s get our freak on.” Genitals as far as the eyes can see. Pit-stop along the way for some Lysol and a healthy dose of Aspirins; the Black Plague a right bastard. Sidestep that controversial period with the giant Ts. Selfie with Cleo. An orgy or two with my buddy Caligula… and, look, a Velociraptor just crossed my path. Shift reverse, gone a bit too far. backtrack…