Quantum Theoretical Probabilities
Jeffrey: Holy crap I just remembered I came up with the idea for Netflix like ten years ago!
Weedmaster P: WHY DIDN'T YOU START IT UP THEN DICK ASS
Jeffrey: Three words: Dumb. Drunk. Hick.
[[ Weedmaster P holds a glowing crystal ball. ]]
Weedmaster P: WOULD YOU LIKE TO GAZE INTO MY QUANTUM ORB OF THEORETICAL PROBABILITIES TO SEE HOW YOUR LIFE WOULD BE DIFFERENT IF YOU HAD
Jeffrey: O wise orb, give up tha theoriez.
[[ A tombstone in the grass, engraved with a smiling face with its tongue sticking out of the corner of its mouth, a Darwin/Christ fish with feet, and a peeing Calvin. There is a crushed drink can on the ground. ]]
Tombstone Inscription: JEFFREY ROWLAND DIED OF A DRUG OVERDOSE IN THE STOMACH OF A WHALE WITH ABOUT 50 HOOKERS. HIS HEARD EXPLODED SO HARD IT KILLED THE WHALE, TOO.
Jeffrey: Get the real time machine.
Weedmaster P: I THINK I ACCIDENTALLY WARSHED IT