Much has been written about the possibility of an infinite number of universes existing simultaneously - but this is incorrect. There are only 236 universes (237 if you count the universe where no other universes exist) and each universe is separated from all the others by nothing more than opinion. Or, to put it on a more personal level, seeing alternatives depends entirely on your point of view.
Occasionally, very occasionally, the locations blend for brief moments and we can sense other possibilities. We generally ignore these quick fancies and carry on much as before, but sometimes we are forced to take note. We are compelled to accept that something is amiss and we have been right royally fucked-up by something totally outside of our experience and control. Indeed, it is often so far outside of our experience and control it may as well be from another world, which, of course, it is.
But a pattern has been developing. An organization has been formed to make use of an inter-dimensional instability that has recently become concentrated at one single point in our particular universe. Now, I could keep the location of this instability secret but I hate that kind of shit where story-tellers, without the specific knowledge to back up their weird claims, fall back on secrecy to hide total ignorance of the complexities involved in their proposal – so I will tell you the location.
It’s the Commonwealth Bank ATM near the hairdressers in the Jimboomba shopping centre.
You may have noticed odd things about this ATM. Like when your balance is mysteriously nothing like you expect it to be. Sometimes it’s more, but mostly it’s less than anticipated and by amounts that make no sense at all. I can reveal that the reason for this is the particular exchange rate between our world and whichever universe the ATM is currently linked to. Another dead give away is the pull out tray thing at the bottom of the ATM where you dump your old transaction slips. Have you noticed that this is sometimes open and no matter how often or how hard you bang it with your knee, it just won’t close? This happens when the ATM is in use by an inter-dimensional entity that is probably wandering around Jimboomba taking notes on our life style. Sometimes this entity will even take your photograph and start to ask you really stupid questions. (If this happens to you, the best defence is to ignore it or firmly tell it to fuck off.)
Just as an interesting little aside – if you are in Jimboomba shopping centre at exactly 3am on a Saturday morning and you notice the ATM tray is open then it is highly probable the ATM is linked with Dimension 218. The exchange rate with this dimension at the moment is 2 trillion to one Australian dollar. If you put your card in at that time, then your balance will be converted but remain designated as Australian dollars - and you can keep it! Not a thing Commonwealth Bank can do about it, because you will own them! The only thing that has prevented me from doing just that is that it would be suicide to hang around an ATM in Jimboomba at 3am of a Saturday morning – and you can’t take it with you, can you.
There are a few other remarkable facts about the 236 (237) dimensions. One is that they share a common language and that language is Australian English. The reason for this is fairly obvious in that Australian English is the simplest form of communication with the least complicated grammatical structure (in that there is none). It is therefore logical to assume that this language is the most likely to evolve and predominate in any universe, given enough time. Our universe, which is the most recently formed and is designated, therefore, universe 236(237), has not yet abandoned the other, more complicated languages. There is only one language that is simpler than Australian English - that of the Black Forest Truffle, which consists of one word, representing great surprise, and Truffles use this word only once when they scream it up a pigs nose.
One other fact before we get down to business. Not only are the populations of each dimension equal, but they are also the same populations. By that, I mean there are 235 (236) other representations of me throughout the universes. The same goes for yourself and every other person in this world. The only difference between you and the family of ‘yous’ is the individual influence of each particular universe. This can have some significant effects. Clark Kent discovered these effects when he transferred from universe 3. He had been used to swimming through a universal atmosphere that had a consistency similar to owl shit so it is no wonder he now zips around our skies like a jet fighter. This also accounts for his seemingly enormous strength, because he is no longer straining against thick avian bowel movements. (By the way, he is lying about the X-ray vision, just to embarrass the girls.)
So, what about this special organization that has been formed to make use of the ATM portal in Jimboomba? Well, it’s like this. An inter-dimensional war is looming! It is clearly understood why this is happening but it is not clearly understood exactly how the why happened. Let me be brief.
The sacred testicles of Clunk, the first Emperor of universe 1(2) were stolen and two of them turned up on the central island of Brisbane Street, Beaudesert - just outside the Scenic Rim Council offices. For most male life-forms in the universes, two testes would seem to be plenty but in universe 1(2) each male has seven - so five are still missing and must be found before the Boulders get really cross.
The “Boulders” refers to the inhabitants of universe 1(2). This universe is populated by super-intelligent stones who are extremely slow to act but infinitely patient. You may well ask how stones can be described as “super-intelligent” and you would be right to have doubts but it should be remembered that universe 1(2), being the first universe, has been around for over eight hundred billion years and in that time anything can happen. Super-intelligence is a relative term of course and compared to, say, a lump of dog shit, stones are extremely bright. However, stones can only vaguely differentiate between wet and dry, light and dark, cold and hot, but, as I said before, they are extraordinarily patient and everything comes to he who waits. In this way, over the eight hundred billion years, computers, plasma TV’s, mobile phones have come and gone in the stone universe but only real ale and sex has remained consistently popular. The stones can’t actually drink the real ale (you probably already guessed that, didn’t you?) but they have been known to have some really wild times watching it evaporate.
And sex? Oh, deary me, that is their obsession. Young stones spend months downloading lithographic images from some very seedy web sites and then, for the next several hundred years, they will slowly rotate on the spot, which is the stone equivalent of a jolly good wank. If, on the other hand, a male stone wants to engage with a female stone it can be a little more complicated. Oh, there are the usual gropings and fumblings during an avalanche or fortuitous earthquake but for a decent bit of fornication the stone must take its time. First, it must trundle to the top of a hill or cliff and this can take a few million years or so depending on geological stresses, upheavals and shifts. Then the stone looks down, picks out a sexy bit of sandstone or a kinky looking slab of quartz, and manoeuvres itself above the target. By this time, several million years have past and the stone is getting very randy but it must be patient. It has to wait for just the right ground tremor or howling windstorm to tilt it beyond the balance point. This can take ten million years or more and some stones have been known to grow bored and completely change their sexual orientation to the point where they will back-scuttle a nearby pansy pebble instead. But if the stone persists then, eventually, the great day will arrive and the stone will begin to roll until it is bounding, bouncing, pounding and smashing down the slope. Then, with one last juddering crunch, it will crash onto the target, which shatters into maybe a dozen kiddie stones.
“That’s you fucked,” the stone will say and then fall asleep to dream of fast cars, real ale and a leisurely cigarette.
All this idyllic existence faded when the sacred testicles of Emperor Clunk the One’th went missing. The Boulders searched their universe for half a billion years and found nothing. Then they discovered the inter-dimensional instability and, relatively speaking, all hell broke loose. For two million years they seethed, for another six million years they ranted, and then they got nasty. They sent envoys through the instability to other dimensions and demanded the return of the holy relics but were met with blank looks of astonishment, not least because facing an angry Boulder is like looking at a sculpture by Rodin representing “woman fondling buffalo’s arse” – all a bit confusing really and, most certainly, pointless. However, some of the more advanced species began to slowly understand the problem and with this understanding came genuine fear. It was obvious the Boulders would never give up their search. It was also clear what they would do if they found the relics, they would all go and fetch them back.
To face an army of several billion Boulders that takes four months to move one millimetre may not seem particularly daunting but that would be a mistake. And it is all to do with the way the inter-dimensional instability works. Let us be clear. The 236 (237) dimensions are not separated by time or distance. They essentially occupy exactly the same space and time and the only separation is perception.
I’ll put it another way. Imagine the reflection in a mirror of a reflection in a mirror (we’ve all done that haven’t we? Dozens of little reflections of you marching off to infinity) but imagine if each reflection was unique – totally different in fact. Then imagine the reflections not apparently receding but overlaying each other and all seemingly occupying the same plane. Now, (and this is the good bit) imagine an observer looking into the mirror and seeing only the one reflection relative to that observer’s universe. A second observer stands beside the first and sees a different reflection that is relative to his universe, not only that, but he can’t see the first observer who is standing right beside him and the first observer can’t see the second bloke either. And so on for 236 (237) observers and their reflections.
See?
OH, DO COME ON! Wake up at the back there, for Goodness sake! Keep up or fuck off!
With all this in mind, it is patently obvious that a two tonne boulder suddenly turning up to occupy the same bit of space you are currently in would be a very bad move, particularly when it happens to every individual in your universe. It is possible of course, that some of us might have friends who are perceptive enough to say, “I should shift if I were you, I’ve got a feeling a two tonne boulder is about to fly up your arse.”
It is possible to have friends like that, but most unlikely.
It was at this point the leaders of some of the universes became concerned. They had first hand experience of what might happen. The Boulder envoys had already crushed some fairly important inhabitants but, apart from that, it was realised that the sudden arrival of a huge army of Boulders in one universe may have far reaching effects. The immediate increase in mass wouldn’t contravene the laws of physics because the conservation of matter applies to all possible universes, so shifting mass from one universe to another is, theoretically, not a worry. (In fact, the hidden existence of the Boulder people and their universe is the key to understanding the problem of the missing dark matter that physicists are always making such a fuss about.) However, what is a worry is that the imbalance created by the sudden transfer of mass and the subsequent conflict of opinion (or point of view) would be extremely awkward, not to say catastrophic, for the entire panoply of universes.
An alliance of 12 of the more advanced universes, including the Boulder universe 1(2), held several meetings over many years and an agreement was reached. It was decided to develop a delay system for the inter-dimensional instability to avoid proximity problems when sending agents through. It was also decided to combine forces to find the sacred testicles and to return them to universe 1(2) with the minimum of fuss. Agents were sent out from each of the allied universes and among them was Droopy Poopy from the planet Plast of universe 6(7). The planet Plast is a world of extremes and the inhabitants have to be extremely adaptable in order to survive. These life forms can change shape and colour at will and this enables them to overcome the wildly violent circumstances into which the planet Plast throws them from time to time. Droopy Poopy was allocated to the planet Earth in the most recently formed universe and it was here, working in the guise of ‘Arjy Barjy’ a simple-minded local councillor, that she discovered the first of the sacred gonads.
Droopy’s disguise was very convincing although she could not prevent her hair from changing colour at the drop of a hat, nor could she entirely rely on her size being consistent. But like all agents, she could always get instant relief by changing back into her original form for a while and this was where the superhero myth became useful. Earthlings were relaxed about superheroes – ‘seen one, seen ‘em all,’ they would say. So when Arjy Barjy quietly remarked that she was ‘off to stretch her legs’ then shot round the corner, twanged her own bra strap three times and was instantly transformed into her superhero persona, Elastic Lass, no one gave a shit.
When Droopy Poopy reported her discovery of the two testicles to the alliance, all investigations concentrated on the planet Earth. The results of those investigations were strange, unexpected in the extreme and had the potential to be universally destructive. My own part in this story was crucial and I cannot avoid a certain pride when I tell you that my involvement was the most honourable and important undertaking ever allocated to a human being in the history of our world.
I should introduce myself. My name is Friedreich von Guntschniffer and, between 1942 and 1945, I was the Commandant of the P.O.W camp Stalag Luft Funf. In February 1943, I was ordered by someone I believed to be a very senior Gestapo representative, to guard 12 members of an enemy commando unit that had just been captured. This enemy unit was delivered to me at night and I was shocked to find that five of them were women. However, my orders were clear. This group was to be kept isolated from the other prisoners and I was to guard them with my life. When I first met them and tried to explain the rules of their new home, they protested hysterically and claimed to be ‘Bogan Chitty Councillors’ (I took this to be a new enemy commando group). Furthermore, they insisted that the P.O.W camp was an elaborate charade. It was many years before I realised they were absolutely correct – but not in the way they thought.
TO BE CONTINUED.
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