http://editthis.info/THREAD_1/?feed=atom&target=Zinger2099&title=Special%3AContributionsThread 1 - User contributions [en]2026-06-11T23:26:17ZFrom Thread 1MediaWiki 1.15.1http://editthis.info/THREAD_1/Page_10Page 102008-07-07T23:16:14Z<p>Zinger2099: </p>
<hr />
<div>You step outside of the changing room and take a quick look around. Adam is nowhere to be seen. Where could he have gone? You look around the store, but he isn't anywhere. How could someone so out of place just disappear? Of course, it is as you are wondering this that he steps out of another changing room behind you and startles you. The trench coat is gone and he now sports running shoes, jeans, and a collared shirt which he doesn't tuck in. Your stomach makes some noises that tells you of your hunger.<br />
<br />
"Well, now that we don't stand out as much, what say you we get something to eat?"<br />
<br />
You nod, unable to deny your increasingly apparant hunger, and follow him to the cashier where he pays for the clothes, and then takes you to the food court of the mall.<br />
<br />
*Option 1[[Page ?]]...<br />
*Option 2[[Page ?]]...<br />
[[Category: Jensen: Time Traveler]]</div>Zinger2099http://editthis.info/THREAD_1/Page_10Page 102008-07-07T23:15:36Z<p>Zinger2099: </p>
<hr />
<div>You step outside of the changing room and take a quick look around. Adam is nowhere to be seen. Where could he have gone? You look around the store, but he isn't anywhere. How could someone so out of place just disappear? Of course, it is as you are wondering this that he steps out of another changing room behind you and startles you. The trench coat is gone and he now sports running shoes, jeans, and a collared shirt which he doesn't tuck in. Your stomach makes some noises that tells you of your hunger.<br />
<br />
"Well, now that we don't stand out as much, what say you we get something to eat?"<br />
<br />
You nod, and follow him to the cashier where he pays for the clothes, and then takes you to the food court of the mall.<br />
<br />
*Option 1[[Page ?]]...<br />
*Option 2[[Page ?]]...<br />
[[Category: Jensen: Time Traveler]]</div>Zinger2099http://editthis.info/THREAD_1/Page_10Page 102008-07-07T23:12:53Z<p>Zinger2099: </p>
<hr />
<div>You step outside of the changing room and take a quick look around. Adam is nowhere to be seen. Where could he have gone? You look around the store, but he isn't anywhere. How could someone so out of place just disappear? Of course, it is as you are wondering this that he steps out of another changing room behind you and startles you. The trench coat is gone and he now sports running shoes, jeans, and a collared shirt which he doesn't tuck in.<br />
<br />
*Option 1[[Page ?]]...<br />
*Option 2[[Page ?]]...<br />
[[Category: Jensen: Time Traveler]]</div>Zinger2099http://editthis.info/THREAD_1/Page_9Page 92008-07-07T23:09:12Z<p>Zinger2099: </p>
<hr />
<div>You cautiously nod, thinking that you could always make a run for it after this guy delivers on his promise for clothes. He smiles at you. It doesn't exactly comfort you, but then again, nothing about this drastic change of scenery comforts you.<br />
<br />
"Here, take this," the man says, as he pulls out a stained white T-shirt from one of his coat pockets and hands it to you. The shirt is much too big and smells funny but you don't like the idea of running around in your birthday suit through a public park, so you put it on anyway. "Follow me," the man says as he turns and moves quickly through the park. You stand there unsure for a moment, but then finally decide to follow. He takes you to the road where a taxi cab is waiting, and opens the door. After rushing you in and sitting down himself, he hands the driver a wad of bills that is unbefitting of a man dressed so unfashionably, and says "Miller Hill Mall please." The cab driver nods, and the car begins moving. A click sound can be heard as the doors lock the moment the car goes into motion, and you look out the window as you begin to wonder if maybe you didn't make the right decision.<br />
<br />
The drive is much longer then you would have liked. You sit there in silence. There are a number of questions you would like answered, but you restrain yourself thinking this is not the best time to ask them. The man you are traveling with also sits in silence, however where you are filled with uncertainty, he seems filled with conviction, as if he is sure of what is going to happen next. The car stops. "Keep the change," the man says, as he gets out of the car and motions for you to follow. Stepping out, you find yourself standing in front of a large shopping center to which the man holds open a door and waits for you to enter.<br />
<br />
"Where are we?" you ask him, as you navigate the halls of the mall before reaching the nearest clothing store. "I'm supposed to be at school. Recess ended a while ago."<br />
<br />
"We are at the Miller Hill Mall, in Duluth," he responds nonchalantly. "Your not supposed to be in school because it is a Saturday, and your recess won't end for another two years. But you are not asking the right question."<br />
<br />
You frown. You don't like his answer but you ponder on it for a moment as the man digs through clothes. "Then what is the right question?" you finally ask.<br />
<br />
"The right question is ''when'' are we?"<br />
<br />
"How do you know my name?"<br />
<br />
"Let's just say we've met before."<br />
<br />
"When and where? I don't remember you."<br />
<br />
"It doesn't matter."<br />
<br />
"Who are you?" the question is foremost on your mind.<br />
<br />
"No one of consequence. But you can call me Adam, for lack of another pronoun with which to direct me by. Here, take this," he hands you a bunch of clothes and rushes you into the changing room. "Put that stuff on. I will be back in a minute. Don't go anywhere."<br />
<br />
Yeah right, you think to yourself. Adam. That's your middle name, after your uncle Adam. Could it be a coincidence? You put on the clothes. Jeans and a yellow T-shirt. Socks and underwear too, and shoes. They all fit. How did he know your size of clothing, or shoes? A lucky guess? All these questions are making you dizzy.<br />
<br />
*Step outside the changing room on [[Page 10]]...<br />
[[Category: Jensen: Time Traveler]]</div>Zinger2099http://editthis.info/THREAD_1/Page_10Page 102008-07-07T23:07:33Z<p>Zinger2099: </p>
<hr />
<div>You step outside of the changing room and take a quick look around. Adam is nowhere to be seen. Where could he have gone?<br />
<br />
*Option 1[[Page ?]]...<br />
*Option 2[[Page ?]]...<br />
[[Category: Jensen: Time Traveler]]</div>Zinger2099http://editthis.info/THREAD_1/Page_9Page 92008-07-07T23:02:52Z<p>Zinger2099: </p>
<hr />
<div>You cautiously nod, thinking that you could always make a run for it after this guy delivers on his promise for clothes. He smiles at you. It doesn't exactly comfort you, but then again, nothing about this drastic change of scenery comforts you.<br />
<br />
"Here, take this," the man says, as he pulls out a stained white T-shirt from one of his coat pockets and hands it to you. The shirt is much too big and smells funny but you don't like the idea of running around in your birthday suit through a public park, so you put it on anyway. "Follow me," the man says as he turns and moves quickly through the park. You stand there unsure for a moment, but then finally decide to follow. He takes you to the road where a taxi cab is waiting, and opens the door. After rushing you in and sitting down himself, he hands the driver a wad of bills that is unbefitting of a man dressed so unfashionably, and says "Miller Hill Mall please." The cab driver nods, and the car begins moving. A click sound can be heard as the doors lock the moment the car goes into motion, and you look out the window as you begin to wonder if maybe you didn't make the right decision.<br />
<br />
The drive is much longer then you would have liked. You sit there in silence. There are a number of questions you would like answered, but you restrain yourself thinking this is not the best time to ask them. The man you are traveling with also sits in silence, however where you are filled with uncertainty, he seems filled with conviction, as if he is sure of what is going to happen next. The car stops. "Keep the change," the man says, as he gets out of the car and motions for you to follow. Stepping out, you find yourself standing in front of a large shopping center to which the man holds open a door and waits for you to enter.<br />
<br />
"Where are we?" you ask him, as you navigate the halls of the mall before reaching the nearest clothing store. "I'm supposed to be at school. Recess ended a while ago."<br />
<br />
"We are at the Miller Hill Mall, in Duluth," he responds nonchalantly. "Your not supposed to be in school because it is a Saturday, and your recess won't end for another two years. But you are not asking the right question."<br />
<br />
You frown. You don't like his answer but you ponder on it for a moment as the man digs through clothes. "Then what is the right question?" you finally ask.<br />
<br />
"The right question is ''when'' are we?"<br />
<br />
"How do you know my name?"<br />
<br />
"Let's just say we've met before."<br />
<br />
"When and where? I don't remember you."<br />
<br />
"It doesn't matter."<br />
<br />
"Who are you?" the question is foremost on your mind.<br />
<br />
"No one of consequence. But you can call me Adam, for lack of another pronoun with which to direct me by. Here, take this," he hands you a bunch of clothes and rushes you into the changing room. "Put that stuff on. I will be back in a minute. Don't go anywhere."<br />
<br />
''"Yeah right,"'' you think to yourself. Adam. That's your middle name, after your uncle Adam. Could it be a coincidence? You put on the clothes. Jeans and a yellow T-shirt. Socks and underwear too, and shoes. They all fit. How did he know your size of clothing, or shoes? A lucky guess? All these questions are making you dizzy.<br />
<br />
*Step outside the changing room on [[Page 10]]...<br />
[[Category: Jensen: Time Traveler]]</div>Zinger2099http://editthis.info/THREAD_1/Page_9Page 92008-07-07T23:02:36Z<p>Zinger2099: </p>
<hr />
<div>You cautiously nod, thinking that you could always make a run for it after this guy delivers on his promise for clothes. He smiles at you. It doesn't exactly comfort you, but then again, nothing about this drastic change of scenery comforts you.<br />
<br />
"Here, take this," the man says, as he pulls out a stained white T-shirt from one of his coat pockets and hands it to you. The shirt is much too big and smells funny but you don't like the idea of running around in your birthday suit through a public park, so you put it on anyway. "Follow me," the man says as he turns and moves quickly through the park. You stand there unsure for a moment, but then finally decide to follow. He takes you to the road where a taxi cab is waiting, and opens the door. After rushing you in and sitting down himself, he hands the driver a wad of bills that is unbefitting of a man dressed so unfashionably, and says "Miller Hill Mall please." The cab driver nods, and the car begins moving. A click sound can be heard as the doors lock the moment the car goes into motion, and you look out the window as you begin to wonder if maybe you didn't make the right decision.<br />
<br />
The drive is much longer then you would have liked. You sit there in silence. There are a number of questions you would like answered, but you restrain yourself thinking this is not the best time to ask them. The man you are traveling with also sits in silence, however where you are filled with uncertainty, he seems filled with conviction, as if he is sure of what is going to happen next. The car stops. "Keep the change," the man says, as he gets out of the car and motions for you to follow. Stepping out, you find yourself standing in front of a large shopping center to which the man holds open a door and waits for you to enter.<br />
<br />
"Where are we?" you ask him, as you navigate the halls of the mall before reaching the nearest clothing store. "I'm supposed to be at school. Recess ended a while ago."<br />
<br />
"We are at the Miller Hill Mall, in Duluth," he responds nonchalantly. "Your not supposed to be in school because it is a Saturday, and your recess won't end for another two years. But you are not asking the right question."<br />
<br />
You frown. You don't like his answer but you ponder on it for a moment as the man digs through clothes. "Then what is the right question?" you finally ask.<br />
<br />
"The right question is ''when'' are we?"<br />
<br />
"How do you know my name?"<br />
<br />
"Let's just say we've met before."<br />
<br />
"When and where? I don't remember you."<br />
<br />
"It doesn't matter."<br />
<br />
"Who are you?" the question is foremost on your mind.<br />
<br />
"No one of consequence. But you can call me Adam, for lack of another pronoun with which to direct me by. Here, take this," he hands you a bunch of clothes and rushes you into the changing room. "Put that stuff on. I will be back in a minute. Don't go anywhere."<br />
<br />
''"Yeah right,"'' you think to yourself. Adam. That's your middle name, after your uncle Adam. Could it be a coincidence? You put on the clothes. Jeans and a yellow T-shirt. Socks and underwear too, and shoes. They all fit. How did he know your size of clothing, or shoes? A lucky guess? All these questions are making you dizzy.<br />
<br />
*Step outside the changing room on [[Page 3]]...<br />
[[Category: Jensen: Time Traveler]]</div>Zinger2099http://editthis.info/THREAD_1/Page_2Page 22008-07-07T22:54:41Z<p>Zinger2099: </p>
<hr />
<div>You dart inside the tube-slide and then stop to catch your breath. It's not long now before the lunch hour ends and you'll be safe, but nevertheless you can feel your heart pounding inside your chest. If Ricky does manage to find you, you're toast. The thought is rather unsettling. You sit silently, listening to your own heartbeat and breathing, which is accelerating. You've never been all that great in enclosed spaces, and the inside of a tube-slide is pretty enclosed. You close your eyes and try not to think about where you are, or the fact that awaits you if Ricky does find you. You're thinking you would give just about anything to be somewhere else right about now and that's when it happens. You begin to feel nauseous and start to hyperventilate. You get very dizzy and soon you can feel your stomach lurch. You try to keep it down but it is of no use and before you know it you are throwing up in the grass.<br />
<br />
It takes you a second to realize that you weren't in grass a moment ago, you were in a tube-slide. But there you are, on your knees in a patch of grass, stark naked, looking at your own puke. You shakily get up and survey your surroundings. Sure enough, you aren't in a tube-slide. You aren't anywhere near a tube slide. You aren't even in the school yard anymore for that matter. You aren't quite sure where you are, or where your clothes went. You begin to wonder if you're delirious. Maybe you passed out in the slide and this is some weird dream? You contemplate this notion when you recognize the locale. You are standing in Fairmont Park, a rather large park that is on the southern end of Duluth. You recognize it because your parents have taken you here before. It was for your seventh birthday, and they took you here on a picnic to celebrate not too far from where you are standing. It's when you think of this fond memory and look over to that location that you are shocked with the sight of your parents, sitting down on a large blanket, with an old fashioned picnic all spread out on it, having a wonderful time. You start to run over to them but are stopped cold in your tracks when you see a familiar young boy run up to your father and say "Daddy I found a butterfly!"<br />
<br />
You become aware once more of your indecency and hide behind a tree as you watch them enjoy themselves. That boy is you, only, a younger you, and you are witnessing your seventh birthday, exactly as you remember it happening to the finest detail. How could this be happening? Are you hallucinating? Are you unconscious in a tube-slide somewhere else? Is this all just a dream? It feels more real then any dream you've ever had, but how could that be true? Maybe Ricky found you and before beating you to a pulp your life flashed before your eyes. All these thoughts are passing through your head and you are trying to make sense of it all when you are pulled from your quiet contemplation by a large hand grabbing you firmly by the shoulder. You turn around to see a man in his mid twenties. He's tall, has short dirty blond hair, and is wearing a dark trench coat, some jeans and some boots that aren't befitting of this warm weather. At first you are stunned, and don't do anything. Then you cover yourself with your hands, realizing once more that you aren't clothed.<br />
<br />
"Jensen, I know all this is very confusing and strange to you, but you must come with me and I will answer all your questions." The man seems sincere, but nevertheless he is a stranger, and you're not supposed to talk to strangers. But he knows your name. How could he know your name? Admittedly, you are a little scared of this person. He doesn't exactly seem trustworthy, but he does seem to know something about why you are here. You glance over your shoulder at your family and yourself enjoying themselves. "They can't do anything for you," the man says. "You will only scare them if they see you. Come with me, I'll get you some clothes and some food and I'll answer all your questions."<br />
<br />
You realize that he is probably right about the scaring your family part, and being clothed and fed is tempting as Ricky ruined your lunch earlier. But even still, you're not sure about this guy. Who is he? What does he want with you? You look past him and see a coffee shop across the street. There are some cars parked in the parking lot, and one of them is a police car. You briefly contemplate running to them for help, but adults generally look down on kids, and who would believe your crazy story anyway? You look back at the stranger who is inviting you to follow him. he looks anxious to get on his way, and it only makes you feel more unsure of what to do.<br />
<br />
*If you go with the stranger, turn to [[Page 9]]...<br />
*Or run to the coffee shop on [[Page 23]]...<br />
[[Category: Jensen: Time Traveler]]</div>Zinger2099http://editthis.info/THREAD_1/Page_1Page 12008-07-07T22:42:38Z<p>Zinger2099: /* '''Chapter One: Man out of Time''' */</p>
<hr />
<div><center><br />
== '''Chapter One: Out of Time''' ==<br />
</center><br />
{{Jensen's Status|Day=Tuesday|Date=May 5|Year=1987|Time=12:34 P.M.|Age=9}}<br />
----<br />
<br />
The first time it happened, you were nine years old. It was lunch hour at Nettleton Magnet Elementary School in Duluth Minnesota, and it was a sunny Spring day. This day wasn't much different than any other day, at least until it happened. Your name is Jensen Taskerhill, you are 3' 9", weigh 87 pounds, have light blond hair with hazel eyes, and you are a perfectly normal nine year old boy. You go to a perfectly normal school. You have a perfectly normal father who's a stock broker and is always away on business trips, but always gives you the time of day when he is home. You have a perfectly normal stay-at-home-mother that paints beautifully, drinks too much on Saturdays, and makes you peanut-butter and jelly sandwiches for lunch. You run around, scrape your knees, play with your friends, read books, watch television, and do all of the perfectly normal things that a perfectly normal nine year old boy should do. Only, you're not perfectly normal. Not after today.<br />
<br />
Maybe it's because you're not perfectly normal that Ricky Timmins picked you to be his center of attention for the day. Maybe he can somehow sense it. Though, you doubt if he could sense it that he would be able to make any sense of the sensation, as you doubt his IQ could be that much higher than a frog's. Nevertheless, he's the big honcho of third grade bullies, and when you're twice as big as any other kid in your grade, your IQ doesn't really count for much. You were minding your own business with a couple of buddies by the jungle gym when this particularly daft individual was overpowered by the irresistible urge to push you to the ground. As you gather yourself up from the dirt you realise all your friends have disappeared.<br />
<br />
Turning to face your assailant, you comfort yourself in the knowledge that Ricky is only as big and scary as he is because he failed a grade. Had he not, he'd be just a normal fourth grader with an attitude problem, but in grade three he might as well be Bigfoot. When you factor in growth spurts, even just a year can be a big difference in size. You contemplate reminding Rick of this, but your precarious situation convinces you to rethink that idea.<br />
<br />
"What's for lunch dickwad?" he asked, as he raided my Buck Rogers lunch box. "Peanut-butter and jelly sandwiches? Again? You know I don't like these."<br />
<br />
"My mom makes my lunches," you reply, sheepishly. A number of other things you'd rather say come to mind, but you decide that saying them prior to having secured a good escape plan is probably for the best. You begin to scan your surroundings, looking for a way out of this predicament.<br />
<br />
"Well, tell the wench to take some cooking lessons or something because this is crap," he says as he drops your lunch into the dirt and then proceeds to step on it. "Dickwad, don't you know it's bad to litter? Pick up that sandwich and eat it."<br />
<br />
You've had just about as much as you can take of Ricky Timmins. You carefully kneel to pick up the sandwich, eyeing Ricky the entire time, so as not to be kicked while you're down or befall some similar cowardly tactic. As you do, you grab a handful of dirt along with it, and slowly stand up. You glance at your watch. 12:41. Lunch is almost over. Soon the bell will ring and you will be home free. All you have to do is last that long. But Ricky also takes the time remaining into account, as he grows even more impatient with the impending humiliation you are about to receive.<br />
<br />
"What are you waiting for? Eat it already!" His demands sound more like threats. You begin to comply, slowly moving the sandwich and pile of dirt to your mouth, but then you stop.<br />
<br />
"You know Ricky, I'm really not hungry today. Why don't you have it?" Before he has time to respond, you throw the sandwich and dirt in his face. He yells out angrily, blinded by the dirt and peanut-butter jelly combination. You don't wait for him to come to his senses, and before he knows what's going on, you're running across the school yard.<br />
<br />
"I'm gonna kill him!" you hear crying out from behind you. Soon he will be barrelling after you, and his legs are bigger then yours. It's only a matter of time before you have to face his wrath, and with that in mind, you begin looking for a place to hide. Taking notice of a tube-slide, you decide this is probably the best place to avoid notice, and make your way towards it.<br />
<br />
*Dart inside the tube-slide on [[Page 2]]...<br />
[[Category: Jensen: Time Traveler]]</div>Zinger2099http://editthis.info/THREAD_1/Jensen:_Time_TravelerJensen: Time Traveler2008-07-07T22:41:50Z<p>Zinger2099: /* Author's Introduction */</p>
<hr />
<div>== Author's Introduction ==<br />
<br />
Welcome. My name is Josh, but my online handle is Zinger2099. I am a writer, and hopefully one day, a film director. I have been a fan of the Choose Your Own Adventure novels since I was a young boy. The very concept of being able to choose the course of action to be taken and directly affect the events to come was monumental in my young mind. They provided more entertainment then regular books, movies and video games combined. Granted, at the time, video games consisted of Atari, but still. Nowadays I get my CYOA fix by playing Dungeons & Dragons, which really takes the concept to a whole new level. But I still have very fond memories of those books I read as a child. So naturally, when I was searching on google for these books, and I came across this website, I was thrilled. I think the Wiki format is a great way to tell Choose Your Own Adventure stories, and I plan to put it to good use. You might notice that my own CYOA stories might differ from some of the others found on this site. My stories are written more like the classic CYOA novels that I grew up with. This means you won't get to make every single little choice the main character is faced with. Instead, you will make only some of the choices, often the more important or defining ones. Consider the rest to be on cruise control. Feedback is always apreciated and if you'd like to get ahold of me, my email is zinger2099@hotmail.com. I hope you enjoy my own brand of Choose Your Own Adventures!<br />
<br />
== Disclaimer ==<br />
<br />
Despite the fact that anyone with an account has the ability to edit these pages, I would ask that they not do so. While I can't do anything to enforce this, I would apreciate it if you left my pages as they are. If you really feel the need to add/edit something, please contact me beforehand to review your ideas. Otherwise, I am hoping to write these adventures without the aid of other members. Thanks in advance.<br />
<br />
== Audrey Niffenegger ==<br />
<br />
'''Audrey Niffenegger''' (born June 13, 1963 in South Haven, Michigan) is a writer and artist. She is also a professor in the Interdisciplinary Book Arts MFA Program at the Columbia College Chicago Center for Book and Paper Arts. She is the founding member of T3 or Text 3, an artist and writer's group that also performs and exhibits in Chicago.<br />
<br />
Niffenegger's debut novel, ''The Time Traveler's Wife'' (2003), was a national bestseller. The Time Traveler's Wife is an unconventional love story that centers on a man with a strange genetic disorder that causes him to unpredictably time-travel and his wife, an artist, who has to cope with his frequent and unpredictable absences.<br />
<br />
Upon reading this novel, I absolutely fell in love with it's enriched story. The characters and the plot took me in, and renewed my love for reading that had been dead for quite some time. This novel was so powerful to me that it has inspired me to write about a Time Traveler of my own. Enter Jensen, a whole new Time Traveler. Think of Jensen's story as no more then a fan fiction spinoff based losely on The Time Traveler's Wife. In writing it, I mean no disrespect to the novel that spawned it, or it's author. Audrey Niffenegger, if you are reading this, please understand that my story is being crafted out of love and respect for your novel and it's characters.<br />
<br />
If you like Jensen's Choose Your Own Adventure, you should treat yourself to a good read and pick up The Time Traveler's Wife. You won't regret it.<br />
<br />
== Jensen: Time Traveler ==<br />
<br />
In this Choose Your Own Adventure, you take on the roll of Jensen. Jensen is a man with a strange genetic disorder that will come to be known as Chrono-Impairment. He has difficulty staying in the present. He Time Travels, involuntarily. Only your decisions will help him cope with this genetic abnormality. You decide every important action he takes, and directly effect the events that are to come. Your decisions will drastically alter the story, and take it in whole new directions. Will you adjust to your irregular state of being? Or will it prove more then you can handle? Only you can decide, because you are Jensen: Time Traveler!<br />
<br />
*To Begin the Adventure, go to [[Page 1]]...<br />
<br />
== Relevant Links ==<br />
<br />
http://www.audreyniffenegger.com/ - Audrey Niffenegger's Website.<br><br />
http://www.randomhouse.ca/ - "The Time Traveler's Wife" Publisher's Website. You can buy The Time Traveler's Wife here.<br><br />
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Audrey_Niffenegger - Wikipedia's page on Audrey Niffenegger.<br><br />
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Time_Traveler's_Wife - Wikipedia's page on The Time Traveler's Wife.<br />
[[Category: Jensen: Time Traveler]]</div>Zinger2099http://editthis.info/THREAD_1/Page_9Page 92008-07-07T22:37:30Z<p>Zinger2099: </p>
<hr />
<div>You cautiously nod, thinking that you could always make a run for it after this guy delivers on his promise for clothes. He smiles at you. It doesn't exactly comfort you, but then again, nothing about this drastic change of scenery comforts you.<br />
<br />
"Here, take this," the man says, as he pulls out a stained white T-shirt from one of his coat pockets and hands it to you. The shirt is much too big and smells funny but you don't like the idea of running around in your birthday suit through a public park, so you put it on anyway. "Follow me," the man says as he turns and moves quickly through the park. You stand there unsure for a moment, but then finally decide to follow. He takes you to the road where a taxi cab is waiting, and opens the door. After rushing you in and sitting down himself, he hands the driver a wad of bills that is unbefitting of a man dressed so unfashionably, and says "Miller Hill Mall please." The cab driver nods, and the car begins moving. A click sound can be heard as the doors lock the moment the car goes into motion, and you look out the window as you begin to wonder if maybe you didn't make the right decision.<br />
<br />
The drive is much longer then you would have liked. You sit there in silence. There are a number of questions you would like answered, but you restrain yourself thinking this is not the best time to ask them. The man you are traveling with also sits in silence, however where you are filled with uncertainty, he seems filled with conviction, as if he is sure of what is going to happen next. The car stops. "Keep the change," the man says, as he gets out of the car and motions for you to follow. Stepping out, you find yourself standing in front of a large shopping center to which the man holds open a door and waits for you to enter.<br />
<br />
"Where are we?" you ask him, as you navigate the halls of the mall before reaching the nearest clothing store. "I'm supposed to be at school. Recess ended a while ago."<br />
<br />
"We are at the Miller Hill Mall, in Duluth," he responds nonchalantly. "Your not supposed to be in school because it is a Saturday, and your recess won't end for another two years. But you are not asking the right question."<br />
<br />
You frown. You don't like his answer but you ponder on it for a moment as the man digs through clothes. "Then what is the right question?" you finally ask.<br />
<br />
"The right question is ''when'' are we?"<br />
<br />
"How do you know my name?"<br />
<br />
"Let's just say we've met before."<br />
<br />
"When and where? I don't remember you."<br />
<br />
"It doesn't matter."<br />
<br />
"Who are you?" the question is foremost on your mind.<br />
<br />
"No one of consequence. But you can call me Adam, for lack of another pronoun with which to direct me by. Here, take this," he hands you a bunch of clothes and rushes you into the changing room. "Put that stuff on. I will be back in a minute. Don't go anywhere."<br />
<br />
''"Yeah right,"'' you think to yourself. Adam. That's your middle name, after your uncle Adam. Could it be a coincidence? You put on the clothes. Jeans and a yellow T-shirt. Socks and underwear too, and shoes. They all fit. How did he know your size of clothing, or shoes? A lucky guess?<br />
<br />
*Option 1[[Page ?]]...<br />
*Option 2[[Page ?]]...<br />
[[Category: Jensen: Time Traveler]]</div>Zinger2099http://editthis.info/THREAD_1/Page_9Page 92008-07-07T22:12:29Z<p>Zinger2099: </p>
<hr />
<div>You cautiously nod, thinking that you could always make a run for it after this guy delivers on his promise for clothes. He smiles at you. It doesn't exactly comfort you, but then again, nothing about this drastic change of scenery comforts you.<br />
<br />
"Here, take this," the man says, as he pulls out a stained white T-shirt from one of his coat pockets and hands it to you. The shirt is much too big and smells funny but you don't like the idea of running around in your birthday suit through a public park, so you put it on anyway. "Follow me," the man says as he turns and moves quickly through the park. You stand there unsure for a moment, but then finally decide to follow. He takes you to the road where a taxi cab is waiting, and opens the door. After rushing you in and sitting down himself, he hands the driver a wad of bills that is unbefitting of a man dressed so unfashionably, and says "Miller Hill Mall please." The cab driver nods, and the car begins moving. A click sound can be heard as the doors lock the moment the car goes into motion, and you look out the window as you begin to wonder if maybe you didn't make the right decision.<br />
<br />
The drive is much longer then you would have liked. You sit there in silence. There are a number of questions you would like answered, but you restrain yourself thinking this is not the best time to ask them. The man you are traveling with also sits in silence, however where you are filled with uncertainty, he seems filled with conviction, as if he is sure of what is going to happen next. The car stops. "Keep the change," the man says, as he gets out of the car and motions for you to follow. Stepping out, you find yourself standing in front of a large shopping center to which the man holds open a door and waits for you to enter.<br />
<br />
"Where are we?" you ask him, as you navigate the halls of the mall before reaching the nearest clothing store. "I'm supposed to be at school. Recess ended a while ago."<br />
<br />
"We are at the Miller Hill Mall, in Duluth," he responds nonchalantly. "Your not supposed to be in school because it is a Saturday, and your recess won't end for another two years. But you are not asking the right question."<br />
<br />
You frown. You don't like his answer but you ponder on it for a moment as the man digs through clothes. "Then what is the right question?" you finally ask.<br />
<br />
"The right question is ''when'' are we?"<br />
<br />
*Option 1[[Page ?]]...<br />
*Option 2[[Page ?]]...<br />
[[Category: Jensen: Time Traveler]]</div>Zinger2099http://editthis.info/THREAD_1/Page_9Page 92008-07-07T22:11:40Z<p>Zinger2099: </p>
<hr />
<div>You cautiously nod, thinking that you could always make a run for it after this guy delivers on his promise for clothes. He smiles at you. It doesn't exactly comfort you, but then again, nothing about this drastic change of scenery comforts you.<br />
<br />
"Here, take this," the man says, as he pulls out a stained white T-shirt from one of his coat pockets and hands it to you. The shirt is much too big and smells funny but you don't like the idea of running around in your birthday suit through a public park, so you put it on anyway. "Follow me," the man says as he turns and moves quickly through the park. You stand there unsure for a moment, but then finally decide to follow. He takes you to the road where a taxi cab is waiting, and opens the door. After rushing you in and sitting down himself, he hands the driver a wad of bills that is unbefitting of a man dressed so unfashionably, and says "Miller Hill Mall please." The cab driver nods, and the car begins moving. A click sound can be heard as the doors lock the moment the car goes into motion, and you look out the window as you begin to wonder if maybe you didn't make the right decision.<br />
<br />
The drive is much longer then you would have liked. You sit there in silence. There are a number of questions you would like answered, but you restrain yourself thinking this is not the best time to ask them. The man you are traveling with also sits in silence, however where you are filled with uncertainty, he seems filled with conviction, as if he is sure of what is going to happen next. The car stops. "Keep the change," the man says, as he gets out of the car and motions for you to follow. Stepping out, you find yourself standing in front of a large shopping center to which the man holds open a door and waits for you to enter.<br />
<br />
"Where are we?" you ask him, as you navigate the halls of the mall before ariving at the nearest clothing store. "I'm supposed to be at school. Recess ended a while ago."<br />
<br />
"We are at the Miller Hill Mall, in Duluth," he responds nonchalantly. "Your not supposed to be in school because it is a Saturday, and your recess won't end for another two years. But you are not asking the right question."<br />
<br />
You frown. You don't like his answer but you ponder on it for a moment as the man digs through clothes. "Then what is the right question?" you finally ask.<br />
<br />
"The right question is ''when'' are we?"<br />
<br />
*Option 1[[Page ?]]...<br />
*Option 2[[Page ?]]...<br />
[[Category: Jensen: Time Traveler]]</div>Zinger2099http://editthis.info/THREAD_1/Page_9Page 92008-07-07T21:59:11Z<p>Zinger2099: </p>
<hr />
<div>You cautiously nod, thinking that you could always make a run for it after this guy delivers on his promise for clothes. He smiles at you. It doesn't exactly comfort you, but then again, nothing about this drastic change of scenery comforts you.<br />
<br />
"Here, take this," the man says, as he pulls out a stained white T-shirt from one of his coat pockets and hands it to you. The shirt is much too big and smells funny but you don't like the idea of running around in your birthday suit through a public park, so you put it on anyway. "Follow me," the man says as he turns and moves quickly through the park. You stand there unsure for a moment, but then finally decide to follow. He takes you to the road where a taxi cab is waiting, and opens the door. After rushing you in and sitting down himself, he hands the driver a wad of bills that is unbefitting of a man dressed so unfashionably, and says "Miller Hill Mall please." The cab driver nods, and the car begins moving. A click sound can be heard as the doors lock the moment the car goes into motion, and you look out the window as you begin to wonder if maybe you didn't make the right decision.<br />
<br />
The drive is much longer then you would have liked. You sit there in silence. There are a number of questions you would like answered, but you restrain yourself thinking this is not the best time to ask them. The man you are traveling with also sits in silence, however where you are filled with uncertainty, he seems filled with conviction, as if he is sure of what is going to happen next. The car stops. "Keep the change," the man says, as he gets out of the car and motions for you to follow. Stepping out, you find yourself standing in front of a large shopping center to which the man holds open a door and waits for you to enter.<br />
<br />
*Option 1[[Page ?]]...<br />
*Option 2[[Page ?]]...<br />
[[Category: Jensen: Time Traveler]]</div>Zinger2099http://editthis.info/THREAD_1/Page_9Page 92008-07-07T21:48:55Z<p>Zinger2099: </p>
<hr />
<div>You cautiously nod, thinking that you could always make a run for it after this guy delivers on his promise for clothes. He smiles at you. It doesn't exactly comfort you, but then again, nothing about this drastic change of scenery comforts you.<br />
<br />
"Here, take this," the man says, as he pulls out a stained white T-shirt from one of his coat pockets and hands it to you. The shirt is much too big and smells funny but you don't like the idea of running around in your birthday suit through a public park, so you put it on anyway. "Follow me," the man says as he turns and moves quickly through the park. You stand there unsure for a moment, but then finally decide to follow. He takes you to the road where a taxi cab is waiting, and opens the door. After rushing you in and sitting down himself, he hands the driver a wad of bills that is unbefitting of a man dressed so unfashionably, and says "Miller Hill Mall please." The cab driver nods, and the car begins moving. A click sound can be heard as the doors lock the moment the car goes into motion, and you look out the window as you begin to wonder if maybe you didn't make the right decision.<br />
<br />
*Option 1[[Page ?]]...<br />
*Option 2[[Page ?]]...<br />
[[Category: Jensen: Time Traveler]]</div>Zinger2099http://editthis.info/THREAD_1/Page_9Page 92008-07-07T20:07:52Z<p>Zinger2099: </p>
<hr />
<div>You cautiously nod silently, thinking that you could always make a run for it after this guy delivers on his promise for clothes. He smiles at you. It doesn't exactly comfort you, but then again, nothing about this drastic change of scenery comforts you.<br />
<br />
"Here, take this," the man says, as he pulls out a stained white T-shirt from one of his coat pockets and hands it to you. The shirt is much too big and smells funny but you don't like the idea of running around in your birthday suit through a public park, so you put it on anyway. "Follow me," the man says as he turns and moves quickly through the park. You stand there unsure for a moment, but then finally decide to follow. He takes you to the road where a taxi cab is waiting, and opens the door. After rushing you in and sitting down himself, he hands the driver a wad of bills that is unbefitting of a man dressed so unfashionably, and says "Miller Hill Mall please." The cab driver nods, and the car begins moving. A click sound can be heard as the doors lock the moment the car goes into motion, and you look out the window as you begin to wonder if maybe you didn't make the right decision.<br />
<br />
*Option 1[[Page ?]]...<br />
*Option 2[[Page ?]]...<br />
[[Category: Jensen: Time Traveler]]</div>Zinger2099http://editthis.info/THREAD_1/Jensen:_Time_TravelerJensen: Time Traveler2008-07-02T21:58:57Z<p>Zinger2099: /* Audrey Niffenegger */</p>
<hr />
<div>== Author's Introduction ==<br />
<br />
Welcome. My name is Josh, but my online handle is Zinger2099. I am a writer, and hopefully one day, a film director. I have been a fan of the Choose Your Own Adventure novels since I was a young boy. The very concept of being able to choose the course of action to be taken and directly affect the events to come was monumental in my young mind. They provided more entertainment then regular books, movies and video games combined. Granted, at the time, video games consisted of Atari, but still. Nowadays I get my CYOA fix by playing Dungeons & Dragons, which really takes the concept to a whole new level. But I still have very fond memories of those books I read as a child. So naturally, when I was searching on google for these books, and I came across this website, I was thrilled. I think the Wiki format is a great way to tell Choose Your Own Adventure stories, and I plan to put it to good use. Feedback is always apreciated and if you'd like to get ahold of me, my email is zinger2099@hotmail.com. I hope you enjoy my own brand of Choose Your Own Adventures!<br />
<br />
== Disclaimer ==<br />
<br />
Despite the fact that anyone with an account has the ability to edit these pages, I would ask that they not do so. While I can't do anything to enforce this, I would apreciate it if you left my pages as they are. If you really feel the need to add/edit something, please contact me beforehand to review your ideas. Otherwise, I am hoping to write these adventures without the aid of other members. Thanks in advance.<br />
<br />
== Audrey Niffenegger ==<br />
<br />
'''Audrey Niffenegger''' (born June 13, 1963 in South Haven, Michigan) is a writer and artist. She is also a professor in the Interdisciplinary Book Arts MFA Program at the Columbia College Chicago Center for Book and Paper Arts. She is the founding member of T3 or Text 3, an artist and writer's group that also performs and exhibits in Chicago.<br />
<br />
Niffenegger's debut novel, ''The Time Traveler's Wife'' (2003), was a national bestseller. The Time Traveler's Wife is an unconventional love story that centers on a man with a strange genetic disorder that causes him to unpredictably time-travel and his wife, an artist, who has to cope with his frequent and unpredictable absences.<br />
<br />
Upon reading this novel, I absolutely fell in love with it's enriched story. The characters and the plot took me in, and renewed my love for reading that had been dead for quite some time. This novel was so powerful to me that it has inspired me to write about a Time Traveler of my own. Enter Jensen, a whole new Time Traveler. Think of Jensen's story as no more then a fan fiction spinoff based losely on The Time Traveler's Wife. In writing it, I mean no disrespect to the novel that spawned it, or it's author. Audrey Niffenegger, if you are reading this, please understand that my story is being crafted out of love and respect for your novel and it's characters.<br />
<br />
If you like Jensen's Choose Your Own Adventure, you should treat yourself to a good read and pick up The Time Traveler's Wife. You won't regret it.<br />
<br />
== Jensen: Time Traveler ==<br />
<br />
In this Choose Your Own Adventure, you take on the roll of Jensen. Jensen is a man with a strange genetic disorder that will come to be known as Chrono-Impairment. He has difficulty staying in the present. He Time Travels, involuntarily. Only your decisions will help him cope with this genetic abnormality. You decide every important action he takes, and directly effect the events that are to come. Your decisions will drastically alter the story, and take it in whole new directions. Will you adjust to your irregular state of being? Or will it prove more then you can handle? Only you can decide, because you are Jensen: Time Traveler!<br />
<br />
*To Begin the Adventure, go to [[Page 1]]...<br />
<br />
== Relevant Links ==<br />
<br />
http://www.audreyniffenegger.com/ - Audrey Niffenegger's Website.<br><br />
http://www.randomhouse.ca/ - "The Time Traveler's Wife" Publisher's Website. You can buy The Time Traveler's Wife here.<br><br />
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Audrey_Niffenegger - Wikipedia's page on Audrey Niffenegger.<br><br />
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Time_Traveler's_Wife - Wikipedia's page on The Time Traveler's Wife.<br />
[[Category: Jensen: Time Traveler]]</div>Zinger2099http://editthis.info/THREAD_1/Jensen:_Time_TravelerJensen: Time Traveler2008-07-02T21:57:34Z<p>Zinger2099: /* Relevant Links */</p>
<hr />
<div>== Author's Introduction ==<br />
<br />
Welcome. My name is Josh, but my online handle is Zinger2099. I am a writer, and hopefully one day, a film director. I have been a fan of the Choose Your Own Adventure novels since I was a young boy. The very concept of being able to choose the course of action to be taken and directly affect the events to come was monumental in my young mind. They provided more entertainment then regular books, movies and video games combined. Granted, at the time, video games consisted of Atari, but still. Nowadays I get my CYOA fix by playing Dungeons & Dragons, which really takes the concept to a whole new level. But I still have very fond memories of those books I read as a child. So naturally, when I was searching on google for these books, and I came across this website, I was thrilled. I think the Wiki format is a great way to tell Choose Your Own Adventure stories, and I plan to put it to good use. Feedback is always apreciated and if you'd like to get ahold of me, my email is zinger2099@hotmail.com. I hope you enjoy my own brand of Choose Your Own Adventures!<br />
<br />
== Disclaimer ==<br />
<br />
Despite the fact that anyone with an account has the ability to edit these pages, I would ask that they not do so. While I can't do anything to enforce this, I would apreciate it if you left my pages as they are. If you really feel the need to add/edit something, please contact me beforehand to review your ideas. Otherwise, I am hoping to write these adventures without the aid of other members. Thanks in advance.<br />
<br />
== Audrey Niffenegger ==<br />
<br />
'''Audrey Niffenegger''' (born [[June 13]], [[1963]] in [[South Haven, Michigan]]) is a writer and artist. She is also a professor in the Interdisciplinary Book Arts MFA Program at the [[Columbia College Chicago]] Center for Book and Paper Arts. She is the founding member of T3 or [[Text 3]], an artist and writer's group that also performs and exhibits in Chicago.<br />
<br />
Niffenegger's debut novel, ''[[The Time Traveler's Wife]]'' (2003), was a national bestseller. ''The Time Traveler's Wife'' is an unconventional love story that centers on a man with a strange genetic disorder that causes him to unpredictably time-travel and his wife, an artist, who has to cope with his frequent and unpredictable absences.<br />
<br />
Upon reading this novel, I absolutely fell in love with it's enriched story. The characters and the plot took me in, and renewed my love for reading that had been dead for quite some time. This novel was so powerful to me that it has inspired me to write about a Time Traveler of my own. Enter Jensen, a whole new Time Traveler. Think of Jensen's story as no more then a fan fiction spinoff based losely on The Time Traveler's Wife. In writing it, I mean no disrespect to the novel that spawned it, or it's author. Audrey Niffenegger, if you are reading this, please understand that my story is being crafted out of love and respect for your novel and it's characters.<br />
<br />
If you like Jensen's Choose Your Own Adventure, you should treat yourself to a good read and pick up The Time Traveler's Wife. You won't regret it.<br />
<br />
== Jensen: Time Traveler ==<br />
<br />
In this Choose Your Own Adventure, you take on the roll of Jensen. Jensen is a man with a strange genetic disorder that will come to be known as Chrono-Impairment. He has difficulty staying in the present. He Time Travels, involuntarily. Only your decisions will help him cope with this genetic abnormality. You decide every important action he takes, and directly effect the events that are to come. Your decisions will drastically alter the story, and take it in whole new directions. Will you adjust to your irregular state of being? Or will it prove more then you can handle? Only you can decide, because you are Jensen: Time Traveler!<br />
<br />
*To Begin the Adventure, go to [[Page 1]]...<br />
<br />
== Relevant Links ==<br />
<br />
http://www.audreyniffenegger.com/ - Audrey Niffenegger's Website.<br><br />
http://www.randomhouse.ca/ - "The Time Traveler's Wife" Publisher's Website. You can buy The Time Traveler's Wife here.<br><br />
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Audrey_Niffenegger - Wikipedia's page on Audrey Niffenegger.<br><br />
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Time_Traveler's_Wife - Wikipedia's page on The Time Traveler's Wife.<br />
[[Category: Jensen: Time Traveler]]</div>Zinger2099http://editthis.info/THREAD_1/Page_2Page 22008-04-19T04:03:56Z<p>Zinger2099: </p>
<hr />
<div>You dart inside the tube-slide and then stop to catch your breath. It's not long now before the lunch hour ends and you'll be safe, but nevertheless you can feel your heart pounding inside your chest. If Ricky does manage to find you, you're toast. The thought is rather unsettling. You sit silently, listening to your own heartbeat and breathing, which is accelerating. You've never been all that great in enclosed spaces, and the inside of a tube-slide is pretty enclosed. You close your eyes and try not to think about where you are, or the fact that awaits you if Ricky does find you. You're thinking you would give just about anything to be somewhere else right about now and that's when it happens. You begin to feel nauseous and start to hyperventilate. You get very dizzy and soon you can feel your stomach lurch. You try to keep it down but it is of no use and before you know it you are throwing up in the grass.<br />
<br />
It takes you a second to realise that you weren't in grass a moment ago, you were in a tube-slide. But there you are, on your knees in a patch of grass, stark naked, looking at your own puke. You shakily get up and survey your surroundings. Sure enough, you aren't in a tube-slide. You aren't anywhere near a tube slide. You aren't even in the school yard anymore for that matter. You aren't quite sure where you are, or where your clothes went. You begin to wonder if you're delirious. Maybe you passed out in the slide and this is some weird dream? You contemplate this notion when you recognize the locale. You are standing in Fairmont Park, a rather large park that is on the southern end of Duluth. You recognize it because your parents have taken you here before. It was for your seventh birthday, and they took you here on a picnic to celebrate not too far from where you are standing. It's when you think of this fond memory and look over to that location that you are shocked with the sight of your parents, sitting down on a large blanket, with an old fashioned picnic all spread out on it, having a wonderful time. You start to run over to them but are stopped cold in your tracks when you see a familiar young boy run up to your father and say "Daddy I found a butterfly!"<br />
<br />
You become aware once more of your indecency and hide behind a tree as you watch them enjoy themselves. That boy is you, only, a younger you, and you are witnessing your seventh birthday, exactly as you remember it happening to the finest detail. How could this be happening? Are you hallucinating? Are you unconscious in a tube-slide somewhere else? Is this all just a dream? It feels more real then any dream you've ever had, but how could that be true? Maybe Ricky found you and before beating you to a pulp your life flashed before your eyes. All these thoughts are passing through your head and you are trying to make sense of it all when you are pulled from your quiet contemplation by a large hand grabbing you firmly by the shoulder. You turn around to see a man in his mid twenties. He's tall, has short dirty blond hair, and is wearing a dark trench coat, some jeans and some boots that aren't befitting of this warm weather. At first you are stunned, and don't do anything. Then you cover yourself with your hands, realising once more that you aren't clothed.<br />
<br />
"Jensen, I know all this is very confusing and strange to you, but you must come with me and I will answer all your questions." The man seems sincere, but nevertheless he is a stranger, and you're not supposed to talk to strangers. But he knows your name. How could he know your name? Admittedly, you are a little scared of this person. He doesn't exactly seem trustworthy, but he does seem to know something about why you are here. You glance over your shoulder at your family and yourself enjoying themselves. "They can't do anything for you," the man says. "You will only scare them if they see you. Come with me, I'll get you some clothes and some food and I'll answer all your questions."<br />
<br />
You realise that he is probably right about the scaring your family part, and being clothed and fed is tempting as Ricky ruined your lunch earlier. But even still, you're not sure about this guy. Who is he? What does he want with you? You look past him and see a coffee shop across the street. There are some cars parked in the parking lot, and one of them is a police car. You briefly contemplate running to them for help, but adults generally look down on kids, and who would believe your crazy story anyway? You look back at the stranger who is inviting you to follow him. he looks anxious to get on his way, and it only makes you feel more unsure of what to do.<br />
<br />
*If you go with the stranger, turn to [[Page 9]]...<br />
*Or run to the coffee shop on [[Page 23]]...<br />
[[Category: Jensen: Time Traveler]]</div>Zinger2099http://editthis.info/THREAD_1/Page_1Page 12008-04-19T03:46:37Z<p>Zinger2099: </p>
<hr />
<div><center><br />
== '''Chapter One: Man out of Time''' ==<br />
</center><br />
{{Jensen's Status|Day=Tuesday|Date=May 5|Year=1987|Time=12:34 P.M.|Age=9}}<br />
----<br />
<br />
The first time it happened, you were nine years old. It was lunch hour at Nettleton Magnet Elementary School in Duluth Minnesota, and it was a sunny Spring day. This day wasn't much different than any other day, at least until it happened. Your name is Jensen Taskerhill, you are 3' 9", weigh 87 pounds, have light blond hair with hazel eyes, and you are a perfectly normal nine year old boy. You go to a perfectly normal school. You have a perfectly normal father who's a stock broker and is always away on business trips, but always gives you the time of day when he is home. You have a perfectly normal stay-at-home-mother that paints beautifully, drinks too much on Saturdays, and makes you peanut-butter and jelly sandwiches for lunch. You run around, scrape your knees, play with your friends, read books, watch television, and do all of the perfectly normal things that a perfectly normal nine year old boy should do. Only, you're not perfectly normal. Not after today.<br />
<br />
Maybe it's because you're not perfectly normal that Ricky Timmins picked you to be his center of attention for the day. Maybe he can somehow sense it. Though, you doubt if he could sense it that he would be able to make any sense of the sensation, as you doubt his IQ could be that much higher than a frog's. Nevertheless, he's the big honcho of third grade bullies, and when you're twice as big as any other kid in your grade, your IQ doesn't really count for much. You were minding your own business with a couple of buddies by the jungle gym when this particularly daft individual was overpowered by the irresistible urge to push you to the ground. As you gather yourself up from the dirt you realise all your friends have disappeared.<br />
<br />
Turning to face your assailant, you comfort yourself in the knowledge that Ricky is only as big and scary as he is because he failed a grade. Had he not, he'd be just a normal fourth grader with an attitude problem, but in grade three he might as well be Bigfoot. When you factor in growth spurts, even just a year can be a big difference in size. You contemplate reminding Rick of this, but your precarious situation convinces you to rethink that idea.<br />
<br />
"What's for lunch dickwad?" he asked, as he raided my Buck Rogers lunch box. "Peanut-butter and jelly sandwiches? Again? You know I don't like these."<br />
<br />
"My mom makes my lunches," you reply, sheepishly. A number of other things you'd rather say come to mind, but you decide that saying them prior to having secured a good escape plan is probably for the best. You begin to scan your surroundings, looking for a way out of this predicament.<br />
<br />
"Well, tell the wench to take some cooking lessons or something because this is crap," he says as he drops your lunch into the dirt and then proceeds to step on it. "Dickwad, don't you know it's bad to litter? Pick up that sandwich and eat it."<br />
<br />
You've had just about as much as you can take of Ricky Timmins. You carefully kneel to pick up the sandwich, eyeing Ricky the entire time, so as not to be kicked while you're down or befall some similar cowardly tactic. As you do, you grab a handful of dirt along with it, and slowly stand up. You glance at your watch. 12:41. Lunch is almost over. Soon the bell will ring and you will be home free. All you have to do is last that long. But Ricky also takes the time remaining into account, as he grows even more impatient with the impending humiliation you are about to receive.<br />
<br />
"What are you waiting for? Eat it already!" His demands sound more like threats. You begin to comply, slowly moving the sandwich and pile of dirt to your mouth, but then you stop.<br />
<br />
"You know Ricky, I'm really not hungry today. Why don't you have it?" Before he has time to respond, you throw the sandwich and dirt in his face. He yells out angrily, blinded by the dirt and peanut-butter jelly combination. You don't wait for him to come to his senses, and before he knows what's going on, you're running across the school yard.<br />
<br />
"I'm gonna kill him!" you hear crying out from behind you. Soon he will be barrelling after you, and his legs are bigger then yours. It's only a matter of time before you have to face his wrath, and with that in mind, you begin looking for a place to hide. Taking notice of a tube-slide, you decide this is probably the best place to avoid notice, and make your way towards it.<br />
<br />
*Dart inside the tube-slide on [[Page 2]]...<br />
[[Category: Jensen: Time Traveler]]</div>Zinger2099http://editthis.info/THREAD_1/Page_2Page 22008-04-04T19:00:45Z<p>Zinger2099: </p>
<hr />
<div>You dart inside the tube-slide and then stop to catch your breath. It's not long now before the lunch hour ends and you'll be safe, but nevertheless you can feel your heart pounding inside your chest. If Ricky does manage to find you, you're toast. The thought is rather unsettling. You sit silently, listening to your own heartbeat and breathing, which is accelerating. You've never been all that great in enclosed spaces, and the inside of a tube-slide is pretty enclosed. You close your eyes and try not to think about where you are, or the fait that awaits you if Ricky does find you. You're thinking you would give just about anything to be somewhere else right about now and that's when it happens. You begin to feel nauseous and start to hyperventilate. You get very dizzy and soon you can feel your stomach lurch. You try to keep it down but it is of no use and before you know it you are throwing up in the grass.<br />
<br />
It takes you a second to realise that you weren't in grass a moment ago, you were in a tube-slide. But there you are, on your knees in a patch of grass, stark naked, looking at your own puke. You shakily get up and survey your surroundings. Sure enough, you aren't in a tube-slide. You aren't anywhere near a tube slide. You aren't even in the school yard anymore for that matter. You aren't quite sure where you are, or where your clothes went. You begin to wonder if you're delirious. Maybe you passed out in the slide and this is some weird dream? You contemplate this notion when you recognize the locale. You are standing in Fairmont Park, a rather large park that is on the southern end of Duluth. You recognize it because your parents have taken you here before. It was for your seventh birthday, and they took you here on a picnic to celebrate not too far from where you are standing. It's when you think of this fond memory and look over to that location that you are shocked with the sight of your parents, sitting down on a large blanket, with an old fashioned picnic all spread out on it, having a wonderful time. You start to run over to them but are stopped cold in your tracks when you see a familiar young boy run up to your father and say "Daddy I found a butterfly!"<br />
<br />
You become aware once more of your indecency and hide behind a tree as you watch them enjoy themselves. That boy is you, only, a younger you, and you are witnessing your seventh birthday, exactly as you remember it happening to the finest detail. How could this be happening? Are you hallucinating? Are you unconscious in a tube-slide somewhere else? Is this all just a dream? It feels more real then any dream you've ever had, but how could that be true? Maybe Ricky found you and before beating you to a pulp your life flashed before your eyes. All these thoughts are passing through your head and you are trying to make sense of it all when you are pulled from your quiet contemplation by a large hand grabbing you firmly by the shoulder. You turn around to see a man in his mid twenties. He's tall, has short dirty blond hair, and is wearing a dark trench coat, some jeans and some boots that aren't befitting of this warm weather. At first you are stunned, and don't do anything. Then you cover yourself with your hands, realising once more that you aren't clothed.<br />
<br />
"Jensen, I know all this is very confusing and strange to you, but you must come with me and I will answer all your questions." The man seems sincere, but nevertheless he is a stranger, and you're not supposed to talk to strangers. But he knows your name. How could he know your name? Admittedly, you are a little scared of this person. He doesn't exactly seem trustworthy, but he does seem to know something about why you are here. You glance over your shoulder at your family and yourself enjoying themselves. "They can't do anything for you," the man says. "You will only scare them if they see you. Come with me, I'll get you some clothes and some food and I'll answer all your questions."<br />
<br />
You realise that he is probably right about the scaring your family part, and being clothed and fed is tempting as Ricky ruined your lunch earlier. But even still, you're not sure about this guy. Who is he? What does he want with you? You look past him and see a coffee shop across the street. There are some cars parked in the parking lot, and one of them is a police car. You briefly contemplate running to them for help, but adults generally look down on kids, and who would believe your crazy story anyway? You look back at the stranger who is inviting you to follow him. he looks anxious to get on his way, and it only makes you feel more unsure of what to do.<br />
<br />
*If you go with the stranger, turn to [[Page 9]]...<br />
*Or run to the coffee shop on [[Page 23]]...<br />
[[Category: Jensen: Time Traveler]]</div>Zinger2099http://editthis.info/THREAD_1/Page_1Page 12008-04-04T18:59:29Z<p>Zinger2099: </p>
<hr />
<div><center><br />
== '''Chapter One: Man out of Time''' ==<br />
</center><br />
{{Jensen's Status|Day=Tuesday|Date=May 5|Year=1987|Time=12:34 P.M.|Age=9}}<br />
----<br />
<br />
The first time it happened, you were nine years old. It was lunch hour at Nettleton Magnet Elementary School in Duluth Minnesota, and it was a sunny Spring day. This day wasn't much different than any other day, at least until it happened. Your name is Jensen Taskerhill, you are 3' 9", weigh 87 pounds, have light blond hair with hazel eyes, and you are a perfectly normal nine year old boy. You go to a perfectly normal school. You have a perfectly normal father who's a stock broker and is always away on business trips, but always gives you the time of day when he is home. You have a perfectly normal stay-at-home-mother that paints beautifully, drinks too much on Saturdays, and makes you peanut-butter and jelly sandwiches for lunch. You run around, scrape your knees, play with your friends, read books, watch television, and do all of the perfectly normal things that a perfectly normal nine year old boy should do. Only, you're not perfectly normal. Not after today.<br />
<br />
Maybe it's because you're not perfectly normal that Ricky Timmins picked you to be his center of attention for the day. Maybe he can somehow sense it. Though, you doubt if he could sense it that he would be able to make any sense of the sensation, as you doubt his IQ could be that much higher then a frog's. Nevertheless, he's the big honcho of third grade bullies, and when you're twice as big as any other kid in your grade, your IQ doesn't really count for much. You were minding your own business with a couple of buddies by the jungle gym when this particularly daft individual was overpowered by the irresistible urge to push you to the ground. As you gather yourself up from the dirt you realise all your friends have disappeared.<br />
<br />
Turning to face your assailant, you comfort yourself in the knowledge that Ricky is only as big and scary as he is because he failed a grade. Had he not, he'd be just a normal fourth grader with an attitude problem, but in grade three he might as well be Bigfoot. When you factor in growth spurts, even just a year can be a big difference in size. You contemplate reminding Rick of this, but your precarious situation convinces you to rethink that idea.<br />
<br />
"What's for lunch dickwad?" he asked, as he raided my Buck Rogers lunch box. "Peanut-butter and jelly sandwiches? Again? You know I don't like these."<br />
<br />
"My mom makes my lunches," you reply, sheepishly. A number of other things you'd rather say come to mind, but you decide that saying them prior to having secured a good escape plan is probably for the best. You begin to scan your surroundings, looking for a way out of this predicament.<br />
<br />
"Well, tell the wench to take some cooking lessons or something because this is crap," he says as he drops your lunch into the dirt and then proceeds to step on it. "Dickwad, don't you know it's bad to litter? Pick up that sandwich and eat it."<br />
<br />
You've had just about as much as you can take of Ricky Timmins. You carefully kneel to pick up the sandwich, eyeing Ricky the entire time, so as not to be kicked while you're down or befall some similar cowardly tactic. As you do, you grab a handful of dirt along with it, and slowly stand up. You glance at your watch. 12:41. Lunch is almost over. Soon the bell will ring and you will be home free. All you have to do is last that long. But Ricky also takes the time remaining into account, as he grows even more impatient with the impending humiliation you are about to receive.<br />
<br />
"What are you waiting for? Eat it already!" His demands sound more like threats. You begin to comply, slowly moving the sandwich and pile of dirt to your mouth, but then you stop.<br />
<br />
"You know Ricky, I'm really not hungry today. Why don't you have it?" Before he has time to respond, you throw the sandwich and dirt in his face. He yells out angrily, blinded by the dirt and peanut-butter jelly combination. You don't wait for him to come to his senses, and before he knows what's going on, you're running across the school yard.<br />
<br />
"I'm gonna kill him!" you hear crying out from behind you. Soon he will be barrelling after you, and his legs are bigger then yours. It's only a matter of time before you have to face his wrath, and with that in mind, you begin looking for a place to hide. Taking notice of a tube-slide, you decide this is probably the best place to avoid notice, and make your way towards it.<br />
<br />
*Dart inside the tube-slide on [[Page 2]]...<br />
[[Category: Jensen: Time Traveler]]</div>Zinger2099http://editthis.info/THREAD_1/Page_2Page 22008-04-04T18:55:32Z<p>Zinger2099: </p>
<hr />
<div>You dart inside the tube-slide and then stop to catch your breath. It's not long now before the lunch hour ends and you'll be safe, but nevertheless you can feel your heart pounding inside your cheast. If Ricky does manage to find you, you're toast. The thought is rather unsetteling. You sit silently, listening to your own heartbeat and breathing, which is accelerating. You've never been all that great in enclosed spaces, and the inside of a tube-slide is pretty enclosed. You close your eyes and try not to think about where you are, or the fate that awaits you if Ricky does find you. You're thinking you would give just about anything to be somewhere else right about now and that's when it happens. You begin to feel nautious and start to hyperventalate. You get very dizzy and soon you can feel your stomach lurch. You try to keep it down but it is of no use and before you know it you are throwing up in the grass.<br />
<br />
It takes you a second to realise that you weren't in grass a moment ago, you were in a tube-slide. But there you are, on your knees in a patch of grass, stark naked, looking at your own puke. You shakily get up and survey your surroundings. Sure enough, you aren't in a tube-slide. You aren't anywhere near a tube slide. You aren't even in the school yard anymore for that matter. You aren't quite sure where you are, or where your clothes went. You begin to wonder if you're delirious. Maybe you passed out in the slide and this is some weird dream? You contemplate this notion when you recognize the locale. You are standing in Fairmont Park, a rather large park that is on the southern end of Duluth. You recognize it because your parents have taken you here before. It was for your seventh birthday, and they took you here on a picnic to celebrate not too far from where you are standing. It's when you think of this fond memory and look over to that location that you are shocked with the sight of your parents, sitting down on a large blanket, with an old fashioned picnic all spread out on it, having a wonderful time. You start to run over to them but are stopped cold in your tracks when you see a familiar young boy run up to your father and say "Daddy I found a butterfly!"<br />
<br />
You become aware once more of your indecency and hide behind a tree as you watch them enjoy themselves. That boy is you, only, a younger you, and you are witnessing your seventh birthday, exactly as you remember it happening to the finest detail. How could this be happening? Are you halucinating? Are you unconcious in a tube-slide somewhere else? Is this all just a dream? It feels more real then any dream you've ever had, but how could that be true? Maybe Ricky found you and before beating you to a pulp your life flashed before your eyes. All these thoughts are passing through your head and you are trying to make sense of it all when you are pulled from your quiet contemplation by a large hand grabbing you firmly by the shoulder. You turn around to see a man in his mid twenties. He's tall, has short dirty blond hair, and is wearing a dark trench coat, some jeans and some boots that aren't befitting of this warm weather. At first you are stunned, and don't do anything. Then you cover yourself with your hands, realising once more that you aren't clothed.<br />
<br />
"Jensen, I know all this is very confusing and strange to you, but you must come with me and I will answer all your questions." The man seems sincere, but nevertheless he is a stranger, and you're not supposed to talk to strangers. But he knows your name. How could he know your name? Admitedly, you are a little scared of this person. He doesn't exactly seem trustworth, but he does seem to know something about why you are here. You glance over your shoulder at your family and yourself enjoying themselves. "They can't do anything for you," the man says. "You will only scare them if they see you. Come with me, I'll get you some clothes and some food and I'll answer all your questions."<br />
<br />
You realise that he is probably right about the scaring your family part, and being clothed and fed is tempting as Ricky ruined your lunch earlier. But even still, you're not sure about this guy. Who is he? What does he want with you? You look past him and see a coffee shop across the street. There are some cars parked in the parking lot, and one of them is a police car. You briefly contemplate running to them for help, but adults generally look down on kids, and who would believe your crazy story anyway? You look back at the stranger who is inviting you to follow him. he looks anxious to get on his way, and it only makes you feel more unsure of what to do.<br />
<br />
*If you go with the stranger, turn to [[Page 9]]...<br />
*Or run to the coffee shop on [[Page 23]]...<br />
[[Category: Jensen: Time Traveler]]</div>Zinger2099http://editthis.info/THREAD_1/Page_2Page 22008-04-04T18:54:43Z<p>Zinger2099: </p>
<hr />
<div>You dart inside the tube-slide and then stop to catch your breath. It's not long now before the lunch hour ends and you'll be safe, but nevertheless you can feel your heart pounding inside your cheast. If Ricky does manage to find you, you're toast. The thought is rather unsetteling. You sit silently, listening to your own heartbeat and breathing, which is accelerating. You've never been all that great in enclosed spaces, and the inside of a tube-slide is pretty enclosed. You close your eyes and try not to think about where you are, or the fait that awaits you if Ricky does find you. You're thinking you would give just about anything to be somewhere else right about now and that's when it happens. You begin to feel nautious and start to hyperventalate. You get very dizzy and soon you can feel your stomach lurch. You try to keep it down but it is of no use and before you know it you are throwing up in the grass.<br />
<br />
It takes you a second to realise that you weren't in grass a moment ago, you were in a tube-slide. But there you are, on your knees in a patch of grass, stark naked, looking at your own puke. You shakily get up and survey your surroundings. Sure enough, you aren't in a tube-slide. You aren't anywhere near a tube slide. You aren't even in the school yard anymore for that matter. You aren't quite sure where you are, or where your clothes went. You begin to wonder if you're delirious. Maybe you passed out in the slide and this is some weird dream? You contemplate this notion when you recognize the locale. You are standing in Fairmont Park, a rather large park that is on the southern end of Duluth. You recognize it because your parents have taken you here before. It was for your seventh birthday, and they took you here on a picnic to celebrate not too far from where you are standing. It's when you think of this fond memory and look over to that location that you are shocked with the sight of your parents, sitting down on a large blanket, with an old fashioned picnic all spread out on it, having a wonderful time. You start to run over to them but are stopped cold in your tracks when you see a familiar young boy run up to your father and say "Daddy I found a butterfly!"<br />
<br />
You become aware once more of your indecency and hide behind a tree as you watch them enjoy themselves. That boy is you, only, a younger you, and you are witnessing your seventh birthday, exactly as you remember it happening to the finest detail. How could this be happening? Are you halucinating? Are you unconcious in a tube-slide somewhere else? Is this all just a dream? It feels more real then any dream you've ever had, but how could that be true? Maybe Ricky found you and before beating you to a pulp your life flashed before your eyes. All these thoughts are passing through your head and you are trying to make sense of it all when you are pulled from your quiet contemplation by a large hand grabbing you firmly by the shoulder. You turn around to see a man in his mid twenties. He's tall, has short dirty blond hair, and is wearing a dark trench coat, some jeans and some boots that aren't befitting of this warm weather. At first you are stunned, and don't do anything. Then you cover yourself with your hands, realising once more that you aren't clothed.<br />
<br />
"Jensen, I know all this is very confusing and strange to you, but you must come with me and I will answer all your questions." The man seems sincere, but nevertheless he is a stranger, and you're not supposed to talk to strangers. But he knows your name. How could he know your name? Admitedly, you are a little scared of this person. He doesn't exactly seem trustworth, but he does seem to know something about why you are here. You glance over your shoulder at your family and yourself enjoying themselves. "They can't do anything for you," the man says. "You will only scare them if they see you. Come with me, I'll get you some clothes and some food and I'll answer all your questions."<br />
<br />
You realise that he is probably right about the scaring your family part, and being clothed and fed is tempting as Ricky ruined your lunch earlier. But even still, you're not sure about this guy. Who is he? What does he want with you? You look past him and see a coffee shop across the street. There are some cars parked in the parking lot, and one of them is a police car. You briefly contemplate running to them for help, but adults generally look down on kids, and who would believe your crazy story anyway? You look back at the stranger who is inviting you to follow him. he looks anxious to get on his way, and it only makes you feel more unsure of what to do.<br />
<br />
*If you go with the stranger, turn to [[Page 9]]...<br />
*Or run to the coffee shop on [[Page 23]]...<br />
[[Category: Jensen: Time Traveler]]</div>Zinger2099http://editthis.info/THREAD_1/Page_1Page 12008-04-04T18:53:31Z<p>Zinger2099: /* '''Chapter One: Man out of Time''' */</p>
<hr />
<div><center><br />
== '''Chapter One: Man out of Time''' ==<br />
</center><br />
{{Jensen's Status|Day=Tuesday|Date=May 5|Year=1987|Time=12:34 P.M.|Age=9}}<br />
----<br />
<br />
The first time it happened, you were nine years old. It was lunch hour at Nettleton Magnet Elementary School in Duluth Minnesota, and it was a sunny Spring day. This day wasn't much different than any other day, at least until it happened. Your name is Jensen Taskerhill, you are 3' 9", weigh 87 pounds, have light blond hair with hazel eyes, and you are a perfectly normal nine year old boy. You go to a perfectly normal school. You have a perfectly normal father who's a stock broker and is always away on business trips, but always gives you the time of day when he is home. You have a perfectly normal stay-at-home-mother that paints beautifully, drinks too much on Saturdays, and makes you peanut-butter and jelly sandwhiches for lunch. You run around, scrape your knees, play with your friends, read books, watch television, and do all of the perfectly normal things that a perfectly normal nine year old boy should do. Only, you're not perfectly normal. Not after today.<br />
<br />
Maybe it's because you're not perfectly normal that Ricky Timmins picked you to be his center of attention for the day. Maybe he can somehow sense it. Though, you doubt if he could sense it that he would be able to make any sense of the sensation, as you doubt his IQ could be that much higher then a frog's. Nevertheless, he's the big honcho of third grade bullies, and when you're twice as big as any other kid in your grade, your IQ doesn't really count for much. You were minding your own business with a couple of buddies by the jungle gym when this particularely daft individual was overpowered by the irresistable urge to push you to the ground. As you gather yourself up from the dirt you realise all your friends have disapeared.<br />
<br />
Turning to face your assailant, you comfort yourself in the knowledge that Ricky is only as big and scary as he is because he failed a grade. Had he not, he'd be just a normal fourth grader with an attitude problem, but in grade three he might as well be Bigfoot. When you factor in growth spurts, even just a year can be a big difference in size. You contemplate reminding Rick of this, but your precarious situation convinces you to rethink that idea.<br />
<br />
"What's for lunch dickwad?" he asked, as he raided my Buck Rogers lunch box. "Peanut-butter and jelly sandwhiches? Again? You know I don't like these."<br />
<br />
"My mom makes my lunches," you reply, sheepishly. A number of other things you'd rather say come to mind, but you decide that saying them prior to having secured a good escape plan is probably for the best. You begin to scan your surroundings, looking for a way out of this predicament.<br />
<br />
"Well, tell the wench to take some cooking lessons or something because this is crap," he says as he drops your lunch into the dirt and then proceeds to step on it. "Dickwad, don't you know it's bad to litter? Pick up that sandwhich and eat it."<br />
<br />
You've had just about as much as you can take of Ricky Timmins. You carefully kneel to pick up the sandwhich, eyeing Ricky the entire time, so as not to be kicked while you're down or befall some similar cowardly tactic. As you do, you grab a handful of dirt along with it, and slowly stand up. You glance at your watch. 12:41. Lunch is almost over. Soon the bell will ring and you will be home free. All you have to do is last that long. But Ricky also takes the time remaining into account, as he grows even more impatient with the impending humiliation you are about to recieve.<br />
<br />
"What are you waiting for? Eat it already!" His demands sound more like threats. You begin to comply, slowly moving the sandwhich and pile of dirt to your mouth, but then you stop.<br />
<br />
"You know Ricky, I'm really not hungry today. Why don't you have it?" Before he has time to respond, you throw the sandwhich and dirt in his face. He yells out angrily, blinded by the dirt and peanut-butter jelly combination. You don't wait for him to come to his senses, and before he knows what's going on, you're running across the school yard.<br />
<br />
"I'm gonna kill him!" you hear crying out from behind you. Soon he will be bareling after you, and his legs are bigger then yours. It's only a matter of time before you have to face his wrath, and with that in mind, you begin looking for a place to hide. Taking notice of a tube-slide, you decide this is probably the best place to avoid notice, and make your way towards it.<br />
<br />
*Dart inside the tube-slide on [[Page 2]]...<br />
[[Category: Jensen: Time Traveler]]</div>Zinger2099http://editthis.info/THREAD_1/Page_2Page 22008-04-04T17:50:24Z<p>Zinger2099: </p>
<hr />
<div>You dart inside the tube-slide and then stop to catch your breath. It's not long now before the lunch hour ends and you'll be safe, but nevertheless you can feel your heart pounding inside your cheast. If Ricky does manage to find you, you're toast. The thought is rather unsetteling. You sit silently, listening to your own heartbeat and breathing, which is accelerating. You've never been all that great in enclosed spaces, and the inside of a tube-slide is pretty enclosed. You close your eyes and try not to think about where you are, or the fait that awaits you if Ricky does find you. You're thinking you would give just about anything to be somewhere else right about now and that's when it happens. You begin to feel nautious and start to hyperventalate. You get very dizzy and soon you can feel your stomach lurch. You try to keep it down but it is of no use and before you know it you are throwing up in the grass.<br />
<br />
It takes you a second to realise that you weren't in grass a moment ago, you were in a tube-slide. But there you are, on your knees in a patch of grass, stark naked, looking at your own puke. You shakily get up and survey your surroundings. Sure enough, you aren't in a rtube-slide. You aren't anywhere near a tube slide. You aren't even in the school yard anymore for that matter. You aren't quite sure where you are, or where your clothes went. You begin to wonder if you're delirious. Maybe you passed out in the slide and this is some weird dream? You contemplate this notion when you recognize the locale. You are standing in Fairmont Park, a rather large park that is on the southern end of Duluth. You recognize it because your parents have taken you here before. It was for your seventh birthday, and they took you here on a picnic to celebrate not too far from where you are standing. It's when you think of this fond memory and look over to that location that you are shocked with the sight of your parents, sitting down on a large blanket, with an old fashioned picnic all spread out on it, having a wonderful time. You start to run over to them but are stopped cold in your tracks when you see a familiar young boy run up to your father and say "Daddy I found a butterfly!"<br />
<br />
You become aware once more of your indecency and hide behind a tree as you watch them enjoy themselves. That boy is you, only, a younger you, and you are witnessing your seventh birthday, exactly as you remember it happening to the finest detail. How could this be happening? Are you halucinating? Are you unconcious in a tube-slide somewhere else? Is this all just a dream? It feels more real then any dream you've ever had, but how could that be true? Maybe Ricky found you and before beating you to a pulp your life flashed before your eyes. All these thoughts are passing through your head and you are trying to make sense of it all when you are pulled from your quiet contemplation by a large hand grabbing you firmly by the shoulder. You turn around to see a man in his mid twenties. He's tall, has short dirty blond hair, and is wearing a dark trench coat, some jeans and some boots that aren't befitting of this warm weather. At first you are stunned, and don't do anything. Then you cover yourself with your hands, realising once more that you aren't clothed.<br />
<br />
"Jensen, I know all this is very confusing and strange to you, but you must come with me and I will answer all your questions." The man seems sincere, but nevertheless he is a stranger, and you're not supposed to talk to strangers. But he knows your name. How could he know your name? Admitedly, you are a little scared of this person. He doesn't exactly seem trustworth, but he does seem to know something about why you are here. You glance over your shoulder at your family and yourself enjoying themselves. "They can't do anything for you," the man says. "You will only scare them if they see you. Come with me, I'll get you some clothes and some food and I'll answer all your questions."<br />
<br />
You realise that he is probably right about the scaring your family part, and being clothed and fed is tempting as Ricky ruined your lunch earlier. But even still, you're not sure about this guy. Who is he? What does he want with you? You look past him and see a coffee shop across the street. There are some cars parked in the parking lot, and one of them is a police car. You briefly contemplate running to them for help, but adults generally look down on kids, and who would believe your crazy story anyway? You look back at the stranger who is inviting you to follow him. he looks anxious to get on his way, and it only makes you feel more unsure of what to do.<br />
<br />
*If you go with the stranger, turn to [[Page 9]]...<br />
*Or run to the coffee shop on [[Page 23]]...<br />
[[Category: Jensen: Time Traveler]]</div>Zinger2099http://editthis.info/THREAD_1/Page_23Page 232008-04-04T17:43:19Z<p>Zinger2099: </p>
<hr />
<div>Text goes here.<br />
<br />
*Option 1[[Page ?]]...<br />
*Option 2[[Page ?]]...<br />
[[Category: Jensen: Time Traveler]]</div>Zinger2099http://editthis.info/THREAD_1/Page_9Page 92008-04-04T17:42:59Z<p>Zinger2099: </p>
<hr />
<div>Text goes here.<br />
<br />
*Option 1[[Page ?]]...<br />
*Option 2[[Page ?]]...<br />
[[Category: Jensen: Time Traveler]]</div>Zinger2099http://editthis.info/THREAD_1/Go_through_the_smaller_door.Go through the smaller door.2008-04-04T17:26:14Z<p>Zinger2099: </p>
<hr />
<div>Opening the door, a horrendous smell greets your nostrils. It's a latrine. <br />
<br />
Wondering what a latrine is doing so far inside the catsle, you: <br />
<br />
*[[Use the latrine.]]<br />
<br />
*[[Destroy the latrine.]]<br />
<br />
*[[Do something of more interest.]]<br />
<br />
{{Status|Equipment=''[[Vorpal Blade]], [[Golden Plate Armor]],[[ Gauntlets of Vengance]], [[Crusader Spell Book]]''|Health=190|MP=20|Level=10}}<br />
[[Category: Crusader]]</div>Zinger2099http://editthis.info/THREAD_1/Page_1Page 12008-04-04T17:21:34Z<p>Zinger2099: </p>
<hr />
<div><center><br />
== '''Chapter One: Man out of Time''' ==<br />
</center><br />
{{Jensen's Status|Day=Tuesday|Date=May 5|Year=1987|Time=12:34 P.M.|Age=9}}<br />
----<br />
<br />
The first time it happened, you were nine years old. It was lunch hour at Nettleton Magnet Elementary School in Duluth Minnesota, and it was a sunny Spring day. This day wasn't much different than any other day, at least until it happened. Your name is Jensen Taskerhill, you are 3' 9", weigh 87 pounds, have light blond hair with hazel eyes, and you are a perfectly normal nine year old boy. You go to a perfectly normal school. You have a perfectly normal father who's a stock broker and is always away on business trips, but always gives you the time of day when he is home. You have a perfectly normal stay-at-home-mother that paints beautifully, drinks too much on Saturdays, and makes you peanut-butter and jelly sandwhiches for lunch. You run around, scrape your knees, play with your friends, read books, watch television, and do all of the perfectly normal things that a perfectly normal nine year old boy should do. Only, you're not perfectly normal. Not after today.<br />
<br />
Maybe it's because you're not perfectly normal that Ricky Timmins picked you to be his center of attention for the day. Maybe he can somehow sense it. Though, you doubt if he could sense it that he would be able to make any sense of the sensation, as you doubt his IQ could be that much higher then a frog's. Nevertheless, he's the big honcho of third grade bullies, and when you're twice as big as any other kid in your grade, your IQ doesn't really count for much. You were minding your own business with a couple of buddies by the jungle gym when this particularely daft individual was overpowered by the irresistable urge to push you to the ground. As you gather yourself up from the dirt you realise all your friends have disapeared.<br />
<br />
Turning to face your assailant, you comfort yourself in the knowledge that Ricky is only as big and scary as he is because he failed a grade. Had he not, he'd be just a normal fourth grader with an attitude problem, but in grade three he might as well be Bigfoot. When you factor in growth spurts, even just a year can be a big difference in size. You contemplate reminding Rick of this, but your precarious situation convinces you to rethink that idea.<br />
<br />
"What's for lunch dickwad?" he asked, as he raided my Buck Rogers lunch box. "Peanut-butter and jelly sandwhiches? Again? You know I don't like these."<br />
<br />
"My mom makes my lunches," you reply, sheepishly. A number of other things you'd rather say come to mind, but you decide that saying them prior to having secured a good escape plan is probably for the best. You begin to scan your surroundings, looking for a way out of this predicament.<br />
<br />
"Well, tell the wench to take some cooking lessons or something because this is crap," he says as he drops your lunch into the dirt and then proceeds to step on it. "Dickwad, don't you know it's bad to litter? Pick up that sandwhich and eat it."<br />
<br />
You've had just about as much as you can take of Ricky Timmins. You carefully kneel to pick up the sandwhich, eyeing Ricky the entire time, so as not to be kicked while you're down or befall some similar cowardly tactic. As you do, you grab a handful of dirt along with it, and slowly stand up. You glance at your watch. 12:41. Lunch is almost over. Soon the bell will ring and you will be home free. All you have to do is last that long. But Ricky also takes the time remaining into account, as he grows even more impatient with the impending humiliation you are about to recieve.<br />
<br />
"What are you waiting for? Eat it already!" His demands sound more like threats. You begin to comply, slowlhy moving the sandwhich and pile of dirt to your mouth, but then you stop.<br />
<br />
"You know Ricky, I'm really not hungry today. Why don't you have it?" Before he has time to respond, you throw the sandwhich and dirt in his face. He yells out angrily, blinded by the dirt and peanut-butter jelly combination. You don't wait for him to come to his senses, and before he knows what's going on, you're running across the school yard.<br />
<br />
"I'm gonna kill him!" you hear crying out from behind you. Soon he will be bareling after you, and his legs are bigger then yours. It's only a matter of time before you have to face his wrath, and with that in mind, you begin looking for a place to hide. Taking notice of a tube-slide, you decide this is probably the best place to avoid notice, and make your way towards it.<br />
<br />
*Dart inside the tube-slide on [[Page 2]]...<br />
[[Category: Jensen: Time Traveler]]</div>Zinger2099http://editthis.info/THREAD_1/Page_1Page 12008-04-04T17:21:17Z<p>Zinger2099: </p>
<hr />
<div><center><br />
== '''Chapter One: Man out of Time''' ==<br />
</center><br />
{{Jensen's Status|Day=Tuesday|Date=May 5|Year=1987|Time=12:34 P.M.|Age=9}}<br />
----<br />
<br />
The first time it happened, you were nine years old. It was lunch hour at Nettleton Magnet Elementary School in Duluth Minnesota, and it was a sunny Spring day. This day wasn't much different than any other day, at least until it happened. Your name is Jensen Taskerhill, you are 3'9", weigh 87 pounds, have light blond hair with hazel eyes, and you are a perfectly normal nine year old boy. You go to a perfectly normal school. You have a perfectly normal father who's a stock broker and is always away on business trips, but always gives you the time of day when he is home. You have a perfectly normal stay-at-home-mother that paints beautifully, drinks too much on Saturdays, and makes you peanut-butter and jelly sandwhiches for lunch. You run around, scrape your knees, play with your friends, read books, watch television, and do all of the perfectly normal things that a perfectly normal nine year old boy should do. Only, you're not perfectly normal. Not after today.<br />
<br />
Maybe it's because you're not perfectly normal that Ricky Timmins picked you to be his center of attention for the day. Maybe he can somehow sense it. Though, you doubt if he could sense it that he would be able to make any sense of the sensation, as you doubt his IQ could be that much higher then a frog's. Nevertheless, he's the big honcho of third grade bullies, and when you're twice as big as any other kid in your grade, your IQ doesn't really count for much. You were minding your own business with a couple of buddies by the jungle gym when this particularely daft individual was overpowered by the irresistable urge to push you to the ground. As you gather yourself up from the dirt you realise all your friends have disapeared.<br />
<br />
Turning to face your assailant, you comfort yourself in the knowledge that Ricky is only as big and scary as he is because he failed a grade. Had he not, he'd be just a normal fourth grader with an attitude problem, but in grade three he might as well be Bigfoot. When you factor in growth spurts, even just a year can be a big difference in size. You contemplate reminding Rick of this, but your precarious situation convinces you to rethink that idea.<br />
<br />
"What's for lunch dickwad?" he asked, as he raided my Buck Rogers lunch box. "Peanut-butter and jelly sandwhiches? Again? You know I don't like these."<br />
<br />
"My mom makes my lunches," you reply, sheepishly. A number of other things you'd rather say come to mind, but you decide that saying them prior to having secured a good escape plan is probably for the best. You begin to scan your surroundings, looking for a way out of this predicament.<br />
<br />
"Well, tell the wench to take some cooking lessons or something because this is crap," he says as he drops your lunch into the dirt and then proceeds to step on it. "Dickwad, don't you know it's bad to litter? Pick up that sandwhich and eat it."<br />
<br />
You've had just about as much as you can take of Ricky Timmins. You carefully kneel to pick up the sandwhich, eyeing Ricky the entire time, so as not to be kicked while you're down or befall some similar cowardly tactic. As you do, you grab a handful of dirt along with it, and slowly stand up. You glance at your watch. 12:41. Lunch is almost over. Soon the bell will ring and you will be home free. All you have to do is last that long. But Ricky also takes the time remaining into account, as he grows even more impatient with the impending humiliation you are about to recieve.<br />
<br />
"What are you waiting for? Eat it already!" His demands sound more like threats. You begin to comply, slowlhy moving the sandwhich and pile of dirt to your mouth, but then you stop.<br />
<br />
"You know Ricky, I'm really not hungry today. Why don't you have it?" Before he has time to respond, you throw the sandwhich and dirt in his face. He yells out angrily, blinded by the dirt and peanut-butter jelly combination. You don't wait for him to come to his senses, and before he knows what's going on, you're running across the school yard.<br />
<br />
"I'm gonna kill him!" you hear crying out from behind you. Soon he will be bareling after you, and his legs are bigger then yours. It's only a matter of time before you have to face his wrath, and with that in mind, you begin looking for a place to hide. Taking notice of a tube-slide, you decide this is probably the best place to avoid notice, and make your way towards it.<br />
<br />
*Dart inside the tube-slide on [[Page 2]]...<br />
[[Category: Jensen: Time Traveler]]</div>Zinger2099http://editthis.info/THREAD_1/Page_1Page 12008-04-04T17:20:30Z<p>Zinger2099: </p>
<hr />
<div><center><br />
== '''Chapter One: Man out of Time''' ==<br />
</center><br />
{{Jensen's Status|Day=Tuesday|Date=May 5|Year=1987|Time=12:34 P.M.|Age=9}}<br />
----<br />
<br />
The first time it happened, you were nine years old. It was lunch hour at Nettleton Magnet Elementary School in Duluth Minnesota, and it was a sunny Spring day. This day wasn't much different than any other day, at least until it happened. Your name is Jensen Taskerhill, you are 4'2", weigh 87 pounds, have light blond hair with hazel eyes, and you are a perfectly normal nine year old boy. You go to a perfectly normal school. You have a perfectly normal father who's a stock broker and is always away on business trips, but always gives you the time of day when he is home. You have a perfectly normal stay-at-home-mother that paints beautifully, drinks too much on Saturdays, and makes you peanut-butter and jelly sandwhiches for lunch. You run around, scrape your knees, play with your friends, read books, watch television, and do all of the perfectly normal things that a perfectly normal nine year old boy should do. Only, you're not perfectly normal. Not after today.<br />
<br />
Maybe it's because you're not perfectly normal that Ricky Timmins picked you to be his center of attention for the day. Maybe he can somehow sense it. Though, you doubt if he could sense it that he would be able to make any sense of the sensation, as you doubt his IQ could be that much higher then a frog's. Nevertheless, he's the big honcho of third grade bullies, and when you're twice as big as any other kid in your grade, your IQ doesn't really count for much. You were minding your own business with a couple of buddies by the jungle gym when this particularely daft individual was overpowered by the irresistable urge to push you to the ground. As you gather yourself up from the dirt you realise all your friends have disapeared.<br />
<br />
Turning to face your assailant, you comfort yourself in the knowledge that Ricky is only as big and scary as he is because he failed a grade. Had he not, he'd be just a normal fourth grader with an attitude problem, but in grade three he might as well be Bigfoot. When you factor in growth spurts, even just a year can be a big difference in size. You contemplate reminding Rick of this, but your precarious situation convinces you to rethink that idea.<br />
<br />
"What's for lunch dickwad?" he asked, as he raided my Buck Rogers lunch box. "Peanut-butter and jelly sandwhiches? Again? You know I don't like these."<br />
<br />
"My mom makes my lunches," you reply, sheepishly. A number of other things you'd rather say come to mind, but you decide that saying them prior to having secured a good escape plan is probably for the best. You begin to scan your surroundings, looking for a way out of this predicament.<br />
<br />
"Well, tell the wench to take some cooking lessons or something because this is crap," he says as he drops your lunch into the dirt and then proceeds to step on it. "Dickwad, don't you know it's bad to litter? Pick up that sandwhich and eat it."<br />
<br />
You've had just about as much as you can take of Ricky Timmins. You carefully kneel to pick up the sandwhich, eyeing Ricky the entire time, so as not to be kicked while you're down or befall some similar cowardly tactic. As you do, you grab a handful of dirt along with it, and slowly stand up. You glance at your watch. 12:41. Lunch is almost over. Soon the bell will ring and you will be home free. All you have to do is last that long. But Ricky also takes the time remaining into account, as he grows even more impatient with the impending humiliation you are about to recieve.<br />
<br />
"What are you waiting for? Eat it already!" His demands sound more like threats. You begin to comply, slowlhy moving the sandwhich and pile of dirt to your mouth, but then you stop.<br />
<br />
"You know Ricky, I'm really not hungry today. Why don't you have it?" Before he has time to respond, you throw the sandwhich and dirt in his face. He yells out angrily, blinded by the dirt and peanut-butter jelly combination. You don't wait for him to come to his senses, and before he knows what's going on, you're running across the school yard.<br />
<br />
"I'm gonna kill him!" you hear crying out from behind you. Soon he will be bareling after you, and his legs are bigger then yours. It's only a matter of time before you have to face his wrath, and with that in mind, you begin looking for a place to hide. Taking notice of a tube-slide, you decide this is probably the best place to avoid notice, and make your way towards it.<br />
<br />
*Dart inside the tube-slide on [[Page 2]]...<br />
[[Category: Jensen: Time Traveler]]</div>Zinger2099http://editthis.info/THREAD_1/Page_2Page 22008-04-04T17:17:40Z<p>Zinger2099: </p>
<hr />
<div>You dart inside the tube-slide and then stop to catch your breath. It's not long now before the lunch hour ends and you'll be safe, but nevertheless you can feel your heart pounding inside your cheast. If Ricky does manage to find you, you're toast. The thought is rather unsetteling. You sit silently, listening to your own heartbeat and breathing, which is accelerating. You've never been all that great in enclosed spaces, and the inside of a tube-slide is pretty enclosed. You close your eyes and try not to think about where you are, or the fait that awaits you if Ricky does find you. You're thinking you would give just about anything to be somewhere else right about now and that's when it happens. You begin to feel nautious and start to hyperventalate. You get very dizzy and soon you can feel your stomach lurch. You try to keep it down but it is of no use and before you know it you are throwing up in the grass.<br />
<br />
It takes you a second to realise that you weren't in grass a moment ago, you were in a tube-slide. But there you are, on your knees in a patch of grass, stark naked, looking at your own puke. You shakily get up and survey your surroundings. Sure enough, you aren't in a rtube-slide. You aren't anywhere near a tube slide. You aren't even in the school yard anymore for that matter. You aren't quite sure where you are, or where your clothes went. You begin to wonder if you're delirious. Maybe you passed out in the slide and this is some weird dream? You contemplate this notion when you recognize the locale. You are standing in Fairmont Park, a rather large park that is on the southern end of Duluth. You recognize it because your parents have taken you here before. It was for your seventh birthday, and they took you here on a picnic to celebrate not too far from where you are standing. It's when you think of this fond memory and look over to that location that you are shocked with the sight of your parents, sitting down on a large blanket, with an old fashioned picnic all spread out on it, having a wonderful time. You start to run over to them but are stopped cold in your tracks when you see a familiar young boy run up to your father and say "Daddy I found a butterfly!"<br />
<br />
You become aware once more of your indecency and hide behind a tree as you watch them enjoy themselves. That boy is you, only, a younger you, and you are witnessing your seventh birthday, exactly as you remember it happening to the finest detail. How could this be happening? Are you halucinating? Are you unconcious in a tube-slide somewhere else? Is this all just a dream? It feels more real then any dream you've ever had, but how could that be true? Maybe Ricky found you and before beating you to a pulp your life flashed before your eyes. All these thoughts are passing through your head and you are trying to make sense of it all when you are pulled from your quiet contemplation by a large hand grabbing you firmly by the shoulder. You turn around to see a man in his mid twenties. He's tall, has short blond hair, and is wearing a dark trench coat, some jeans and some boots that aren't befitting of this warm weather. At first you are stunned, and don't do anything. Then you cover yourself with your hands, realising once more that you aren't clothed.<br />
<br />
"Jensen, I know all this is very confusing and strange to you, but you must come with me and I will answer all your questions." The man seems sincere, but nevertheless he is a stranger, and you're not supposed to talk to strangers. But he knows your name. How could he know your name? Admitedly, you are a little scared of this person. He doesn't exactly seem trustworth, but he does seem to know something about why you are here. You glance over your shoulder at your family and yourself enjoying themselves. "They can't do anything for you," the man says. "You will only scare them if they see you. Come with me, I'll get you some clothes and some food and I'll answer all your questions."<br />
<br />
You realise that he is probably right about the scaring your family part, and being clothed and fed is tempting as Ricky ruined your lunch earlier. But even still, you're not sure about this guy. Who is he? What does he want with you? You look past him and see a coffee shop across the street. There are some cars parked in the parking lot, and one of them is a police car. You briefly contemplate running to them for help, but adults generally look down on kids, and who would believe your crazy story anyway? You look back at the stranger who is inviting you to follow him. he looks anxious to get on his way, and it only makes you feel more unsure of what to do.<br />
<br />
*If you go with the stranger, turn to [[Page 9]]...<br />
*Or run to the coffee shop on [[Page 23]]...<br />
[[Category: Jensen: Time Traveler]]</div>Zinger2099http://editthis.info/THREAD_1/Page_2Page 22008-04-04T04:01:04Z<p>Zinger2099: </p>
<hr />
<div>{{underconstruction}}<br />
{{Jensen's Status|Day=Tuesday|Date=May 5|Year=1987|Time=12:34 P.M.|Age=9}}<br />
----<br />
<br />
Text goes here.<br />
<br />
*[[Page ?]]...<br />
[[Category: Jensen: Time Traveler]]</div>Zinger2099http://editthis.info/THREAD_1/Page_1Page 12008-04-04T03:46:59Z<p>Zinger2099: </p>
<hr />
<div><center><br />
== '''Chapter One: Man out of Time''' ==<br />
</center><br />
{{Jensen's Status|Day=Tuesday|Date=May 5|Year=1987|Time=12:34 P.M.|Age=9}}<br />
----<br />
<br />
The first time it happened, you were nine years old. It was lunch hour at Nettleton Magnet Elementary School in Duluth Minnesota, and it was a sunny Spring day. This day wasn't much different than any other day, at least until it happened. Your name is Jensen Taskerhill, and you are a perfectly normal nine year old boy. You go to a perfectly normal school. You have a perfectly normal father who's a stock broker and is always away on business trips, but always gives you the time of day when he is home. You have a perfectly normal stay-at-home-mother that paints beautifully, drinks too much on Saturdays, and makes you peanut-butter and jelly sandwhiches for lunch. You run around, scrape your knees, play with your friends, read books, watch television, and do all of the perfectly normal things that a perfectly normal nine year old boy should do. Only, you're not perfectly normal. Not after today.<br />
<br />
Maybe it's because you're not perfectly normal that Ricky Timmins picked you to be his center of attention for the day. Maybe he can somehow sense it. Though, you doubt if he could sense it that he would be able to make any sense of the sensation, as you doubt his IQ could be that much higher then a frog's. Nevertheless, he's the big honcho of third grade bullies, and when you're twice as big as any other kid in your grade, your IQ doesn't really count for much. You were minding your own business with a couple of buddies by the jungle gym when this particularely daft individual was overpowered by the irresistable urge to push you to the ground. As you gather yourself up from the dirt you realise all your friends have disapeared.<br />
<br />
Turning to face your assailant, you comfort yourself in the knowledge that Ricky is only as big and scary as he is because he failed a grade. Had he not, he'd be just a normal fourth grader with an attitude problem, but in grade three he might as well be Bigfoot. When you factor in growth spurts, even just a year can be a big difference in size. You contemplate reminding Rick of this, but your precarious situation convinces you to rethink that idea.<br />
<br />
"What's for lunch dickwad?" he asked, as he raided my Buck Rogers lunch box. "Peanut-butter and jelly sandwhiches? Again? You know I don't like these."<br />
<br />
"My mom makes my lunches," you reply, sheepishly. A number of other things you'd rather say come to mind, but you decide that saying them prior to having secured a good escape plan is probably for the best. You begin to scan your surroundings, looking for a way out of this predicament.<br />
<br />
"Well, tell the wench to take some cooking lessons or something because this is crap," he says as he drops your lunch into the dirt and then proceeds to step on it. "Dickwad, don't you know it's bad to litter? Pick up that sandwhich and eat it."<br />
<br />
You've had just about as much as you can take of Ricky Timmins. You carefully kneel to pick up the sandwhich, eyeing Ricky the entire time, so as not to be kicked while you're down or befall some similar cowardly tactic. As you do, you grab a handful of dirt along with it, and slowly stand up. You glance at your watch. 12:41. Lunch is almost over. Soon the bell will ring and you will be home free. All you have to do is last that long. But Ricky also takes the time remaining into account, as he grows even more impatient with the impending humiliation you are about to recieve.<br />
<br />
"What are you waiting for? Eat it already!" His demands sound more like threats. You begin to comply, slowlhy moving the sandwhich and pile of dirt to your mouth, but then you stop.<br />
<br />
"You know Ricky, I'm really not hungry today. Why don't you have it?" Before he has time to respond, you throw the sandwhich and dirt in his face. He yells out angrily, blinded by the dirt and peanut-butter jelly combination. You don't wait for him to come to his senses, and before he knows what's going on, you're running across the school yard.<br />
<br />
"I'm gonna kill him!" you hear crying out from behind you. Soon he will be bareling after you, and his legs are bigger then yours. It's only a matter of time before you have to face his wrath, and with that in mind, you begin looking for a place to hide. Taking notice of a tube-slide, you decide this is probably the best place to avoid notice, and make your way towards it.<br />
<br />
*Dart inside the tube-slide on [[Page 2]]...<br />
[[Category: Jensen: Time Traveler]]</div>Zinger2099http://editthis.info/THREAD_1/Page_2Page 22008-04-04T03:46:40Z<p>Zinger2099: </p>
<hr />
<div>{{Jensen's Status|Day=Tuesday|Date=May 5|Year=1987|Time=12:34 P.M.|Age=9}}<br />
----<br />
<br />
Text goes here.<br />
<br />
*[[Page ?]]...<br />
[[Category: Jensen: Time Traveler]]</div>Zinger2099http://editthis.info/THREAD_1/Template:Jensen%27s_StatusTemplate:Jensen's Status2008-04-04T03:44:07Z<p>Zinger2099: </p>
<hr />
<div>{| width="100%"<br />
| bgcolor="#00BB33" valign="top" width="100%" colspan="5"| <center>'''Jensen's Current Status Indicator'''</center><br />
|-<br />
| bgcolor="#OOFOO" valign="top" width="20%"| <center>'''Day'''</center><br />
| bgcolor="#DDFDD" valign="top" width="20%"| <center>'''Date'''</center><br />
| bgcolor="#OOFOO" valign="top" width="20%"| <center>'''Year'''</center><br />
| bgcolor="#DDFDD" valign="top" width="20%"| <center>'''Time'''</center><br />
| bgcolor="#OOFOO" valign="top" width="20%"| <center>'''Age'''</center><br />
|-<br />
| bgcolor="#DDFDD" valign="top" width="20%"| <center>{{{Day}}}</center><br />
| bgcolor="#OOFOO" valign="top" width="20%"| <center>{{{Date}}}</center><br />
| bgcolor="#DDFDD" valign="top" width="20%"| <center>{{{Year}}}</center><br />
| bgcolor="#OOFOO" valign="top" width="20%"| <center>{{{Time}}}</center><br />
| bgcolor="#DDFDD" valign="top" width="20%"| <center>''(Jensen is {{{Age}}})''</center><br />
<br />
|}<br />
<noinclude>[[Category:Templates]] [[Category: Jensen: Time Traveler| ]]</noinclude></div>Zinger2099http://editthis.info/THREAD_1/Jensen:_Time_TravelerJensen: Time Traveler2008-04-04T03:42:53Z<p>Zinger2099: </p>
<hr />
<div>== Author's Introduction ==<br />
<br />
Welcome. My name is Josh, but my online handle is Zinger2099. I am a writer, and hopefully one day, a film director. I have been a fan of the Choose Your Own Adventure novels since I was a young boy. The very concept of being able to choose the course of action to be taken and directly affect the events to come was monumental in my young mind. They provided more entertainment then regular books, movies and video games combined. Granted, at the time, video games consisted of Atari, but still. Nowadays I get my CYOA fix by playing Dungeons & Dragons, which really takes the concept to a whole new level. But I still have very fond memories of those books I read as a child. So naturally, when I was searching on google for these books, and I came across this website, I was thrilled. I think the Wiki format is a great way to tell Choose Your Own Adventure stories, and I plan to put it to good use. Feedback is always apreciated and if you'd like to get ahold of me, my email is zinger2099@hotmail.com. I hope you enjoy my own brand of Choose Your Own Adventures!<br />
<br />
== Disclaimer ==<br />
<br />
Despite the fact that anyone with an account has the ability to edit these pages, I would ask that they not do so. While I can't do anything to enforce this, I would apreciate it if you left my pages as they are. If you really feel the need to add/edit something, please contact me beforehand to review your ideas. Otherwise, I am hoping to write these adventures without the aid of other members. Thanks in advance.<br />
<br />
== Audrey Niffenegger ==<br />
<br />
'''Audrey Niffenegger''' (born [[June 13]], [[1963]] in [[South Haven, Michigan]]) is a writer and artist. She is also a professor in the Interdisciplinary Book Arts MFA Program at the [[Columbia College Chicago]] Center for Book and Paper Arts. She is the founding member of T3 or [[Text 3]], an artist and writer's group that also performs and exhibits in Chicago.<br />
<br />
Niffenegger's debut novel, ''[[The Time Traveler's Wife]]'' (2003), was a national bestseller. ''The Time Traveler's Wife'' is an unconventional love story that centers on a man with a strange genetic disorder that causes him to unpredictably time-travel and his wife, an artist, who has to cope with his frequent and unpredictable absences.<br />
<br />
Upon reading this novel, I absolutely fell in love with it's enriched story. The characters and the plot took me in, and renewed my love for reading that had been dead for quite some time. This novel was so powerful to me that it has inspired me to write about a Time Traveler of my own. Enter Jensen, a whole new Time Traveler. Think of Jensen's story as no more then a fan fiction spinoff based losely on The Time Traveler's Wife. In writing it, I mean no disrespect to the novel that spawned it, or it's author. Audrey Niffenegger, if you are reading this, please understand that my story is being crafted out of love and respect for your novel and it's characters.<br />
<br />
If you like Jensen's Choose Your Own Adventure, you should treat yourself to a good read and pick up The Time Traveler's Wife. You won't regret it.<br />
<br />
== Jensen: Time Traveler ==<br />
<br />
In this Choose Your Own Adventure, you take on the roll of Jensen. Jensen is a man with a strange genetic disorder that will come to be known as Chrono-Impairment. He has difficulty staying in the present. He Time Travels, involuntarily. Only your decisions will help him cope with this genetic abnormality. You decide every important action he takes, and directly effect the events that are to come. Your decisions will drastically alter the story, and take it in whole new directions. Will you adjust to your irregular state of being? Or will it prove more then you can handle? Only you can decide, because you are Jensen: Time Traveler!<br />
<br />
*To Begin the Adventure, go to [[Page 1]]...<br />
<br />
== Relevant Links ==<br />
<br />
http://www.audreyniffenegger.com/ - Audrey Niffenegger's Website.<br><br />
http://www.randomhouse.ca/ - "The Time Traveler's Wife" Publisher's Website. You can buy The Time Traveler's Wife here.<br><br />
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Audrey_Niffenegger - Wikipedia's page on Audrey Niffenegger.<br><br />
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Time_Traveler%27s_Wife - Wikipedia's page on The Time Traveler's Wife.<br />
[[Category: Jensen: Time Traveler]]</div>Zinger2099http://editthis.info/THREAD_1/Page_1Page 12008-04-04T03:42:06Z<p>Zinger2099: </p>
<hr />
<div><center><br />
== '''Chapter One: Man out of Time''' ==<br />
</center><br />
{{Jensen's Status|Day=Tuesday|Date=May 1|Year=1987|Time=12:34 P.M.|Age=9}}<br />
----<br />
<br />
The first time it happened, you were nine years old. It was lunch hour at Nettleton Magnet Elementary School in Duluth Minnesota, and it was a sunny Spring day. This day wasn't much different than any other day, at least until it happened. Your name is Jensen Taskerhill, and you are a perfectly normal nine year old boy. You go to a perfectly normal school. You have a perfectly normal father who's a stock broker and is always away on business trips, but always gives you the time of day when he is home. You have a perfectly normal stay-at-home-mother that paints beautifully, drinks too much on Saturdays, and makes you peanut-butter and jelly sandwhiches for lunch. You run around, scrape your knees, play with your friends, read books, watch television, and do all of the perfectly normal things that a perfectly normal nine year old boy should do. Only, you're not perfectly normal. Not after today.<br />
<br />
Maybe it's because you're not perfectly normal that Ricky Timmins picked you to be his center of attention for the day. Maybe he can somehow sense it. Though, you doubt if he could sense it that he would be able to make any sense of the sensation, as you doubt his IQ could be that much higher then a frog's. Nevertheless, he's the big honcho of third grade bullies, and when you're twice as big as any other kid in your grade, your IQ doesn't really count for much. You were minding your own business with a couple of buddies by the jungle gym when this particularely daft individual was overpowered by the irresistable urge to push you to the ground. As you gather yourself up from the dirt you realise all your friends have disapeared.<br />
<br />
Turning to face your assailant, you comfort yourself in the knowledge that Ricky is only as big and scary as he is because he failed a grade. Had he not, he'd be just a normal fourth grader with an attitude problem, but in grade three he might as well be Bigfoot. When you factor in growth spurts, even just a year can be a big difference in size. You contemplate reminding Rick of this, but your precarious situation convinces you to rethink that idea.<br />
<br />
"What's for lunch dickwad?" he asked, as he raided my Buck Rogers lunch box. "Peanut-butter and jelly sandwhiches? Again? You know I don't like these."<br />
<br />
"My mom makes my lunches," you reply, sheepishly. A number of other things you'd rather say come to mind, but you decide that saying them prior to having secured a good escape plan is probably for the best. You begin to scan your surroundings, looking for a way out of this predicament.<br />
<br />
"Well, tell the wench to take some cooking lessons or something because this is crap," he says as he drops your lunch into the dirt and then proceeds to step on it. "Dickwad, don't you know it's bad to litter? Pick up that sandwhich and eat it."<br />
<br />
You've had just about as much as you can take of Ricky Timmins. You carefully kneel to pick up the sandwhich, eyeing Ricky the entire time, so as not to be kicked while you're down or befall some similar cowardly tactic. As you do, you grab a handful of dirt along with it, and slowly stand up. You glance at your watch. 12:41. Lunch is almost over. Soon the bell will ring and you will be home free. All you have to do is last that long. But Ricky also takes the time remaining into account, as he grows even more impatient with the impending humiliation you are about to recieve.<br />
<br />
"What are you waiting for? Eat it already!" His demands sound more like threats. You begin to comply, slowlhy moving the sandwhich and pile of dirt to your mouth, but then you stop.<br />
<br />
"You know Ricky, I'm really not hungry today. Why don't you have it?" Before he has time to respond, you throw the sandwhich and dirt in his face. He yells out angrily, blinded by the dirt and peanut-butter jelly combination. You don't wait for him to come to his senses, and before he knows what's going on, you're running across the school yard.<br />
<br />
"I'm gonna kill him!" you hear crying out from behind you. Soon he will be bareling after you, and his legs are bigger then yours. It's only a matter of time before you have to face his wrath, and with that in mind, you begin looking for a place to hide. Taking notice of a tube-slide, you decide this is probably the best place to avoid notice, and make your way towards it.<br />
<br />
*Dart inside the tube-slide on [[Page 2]]...<br />
[[Category: Jensen: Time Traveler]]</div>Zinger2099http://editthis.info/THREAD_1/Page_2Page 22008-04-04T03:41:18Z<p>Zinger2099: </p>
<hr />
<div>{{Jensen's Status|Day=Tuesday|Date=May 1|Year=1987|Time=12:34 P.M.|Age=9}}<br />
----<br />
<br />
Text goes here.<br />
<br />
*[[Page ?]]...<br />
[[Category: Jensen: Time Traveler]]</div>Zinger2099http://editthis.info/THREAD_1/Page_2Page 22008-04-04T03:40:47Z<p>Zinger2099: </p>
<hr />
<div>{{Jensen's Status|Day=Tuesday|Date=May 1|Year=1987|Time=12:34 P.M.|Age=9}}<br />
----<br />
<br />
Text goes here.<br />
<br />
*Dart inside the tube-slide on [[Page 3]]...<br />
[[Category: Jensen: Time Traveler]]</div>Zinger2099http://editthis.info/THREAD_1/Page_1Page 12008-04-04T03:37:22Z<p>Zinger2099: </p>
<hr />
<div><center><br />
== '''Chapter One: Man out of Time''' ==<br />
</center><br />
{{Jensen's Status|Day=Tuesday|Date=May 1|Year=1987|Time=12:34 P.M.|Age=9}}<br />
----<br />
<br />
The first time it happened, you were nine years old. It was lunch hour at Nettleton Magnet Elementary School in Duluth Minnesota, and it was a sunny Spring day. This day wasn't much different than any other day, at least until it happened. Your name is Jensen Taskerhill, and you are a perfectly normal nine year old boy. You go to a perfectly normal school. You have a perfectly normal father who's a stock broker and is always away on business trips, but always gives you the time of day when he is home. You have a perfectly normal stay-at-home-mother that paints beautifully, drinks too much on Saturdays, and makes you peanut-butter and jelly sandwhiches for lunch. You run around, scrape your knees, play with your friends, read books, watch television, and do all of the perfectly normal things that a perfectly normal nine year old boy should do. Only, you're not perfectly normal. Not after today.<br />
<br />
Maybe it's because you're not perfectly normal that Ricky Timmins picked you to be his center of attention for the day. Maybe he can somehow sense it. Though, you doubt if he could sense it that he would be able to make any sense of the sensation, as you doubt his IQ could be that much higher then a frog's. Nevertheless, he's the big honcho of third grade bullies, and when you're twice as big as any other kid in your grade, your IQ doesn't really count for much. You were minding your own business with a couple of buddies by the jungle gym when this particularely daft individual was overpowered by the irresistable urge to push you to the ground. As you gather yourself up from the dirt you realise all your friends have disapeared.<br />
<br />
Turning to face your assailant, you comfort yourself in the knowledge that Ricky is only as big and scary as he is because he failed a grade. Had he not, he'd be just a normal fourth grader with an attitude problem, but in grade three he might as well be Bigfoot. When you factor in growth spurts, even just a year can be a big difference in size. You contemplate reminding Rick of this, but your precarious situation convinces you to rethink that idea.<br />
<br />
"What's for lunch dickwad?" he asked, as he raided my Buck Rogers lunch box. "Peanut-butter and jelly sandwhiches? Again? You know I don't like these."<br />
<br />
"My mom makes my lunches," you reply, sheepishly. A number of other things you'd rather say come to mind, but you decide that saying them prior to having secured a good escape plan is probably for the best. You begin to scan your surroundings, looking for a way out of this predicament.<br />
<br />
"Well, tell the wench to take some cooking lessons or something because this is crap," he says as he drops your lunch into the dirt and then proceeds to step on it. "Dickwad, don't you know it's bad to litter? Pick up that sandwhich and eat it."<br />
<br />
You've had just about as much as you can take of Ricky Timmins. You carefully kneel to pick up the sandwhich, eyeing Ricky the entire time, so as not to be kicked while you're down or befall some similar cowardly tactic. As you do, you grab a handful of dirt along with it, and slowly stand up. You glance at your watch. 12:41. Lunch is almost over. Soon the bell will ring and you will be home free. All you have to do is last that long. But Ricky also takes the time remaining into account, as he grows even more impatient with the impending humiliation you are about to recieve.<br />
<br />
"What are you waiting for? Eat it already!" His demands sound more like threats. You begin to comply, slowlhy moving the sandwhich and pile of dirt to your mouth, but then you stop.<br />
<br />
"You know Ricky, I'm really not hungry today. Why don't you have it?" Before he has time to respond, you throw the sandwhich and dirt in his face. He yells out angrily, blinded by the dirt and peanut-butter jelly combination. You don't wait for him to come to his senses, and before he knows what's going on, you're running across the school yard.<br />
<br />
"I'm gonna kill him!" you hear crying out from behind you. Soon he will be bareling after you, and his legs are bigger then yours. It's only a matter of time before you have to face his wrath, and with that in mind, you begin looking for a place to hide. Taking notice of a tube-slide, you decide this is probably the best place to avoid notice, and make your way towards it.<br />
<br />
Dart inside the tube-slide on [[Page 2]]...<br />
[[Category: Jensen: Time Traveler]]</div>Zinger2099http://editthis.info/THREAD_1/Page_1Page 12008-04-03T19:40:06Z<p>Zinger2099: </p>
<hr />
<div><center><br />
== '''Chapter One: Man out of Time''' ==<br />
</center><br />
{{Jensen's Status|Day=Tuesday|Date=May 1|Year=1987|Time=12:34 P.M.|Age=9}}<br />
----<br />
<br />
The first time it happened, you were nine years old. It was lunch hour at Nettleton Magnet Elementary School in Duluth Minnesota, and it was a sunny Spring day. This day wasn't much different than any other day, at least until it happened. Your name is Jensen Taskerhill, and you are a perfectly normal nine year old boy. You go to a perfectly normal school. You have a perfectly normal father who's a stock broker and is always away on business trips, but always gives you the time of day when he is home. You have a perfectly normal stay-at-home-mother that paints beautifully, drinks too much on Saturdays, and makes you peanut-butter and jelly sandwhiches for lunch. You run around, scrape your knees, play with your friends, read books, watch television, and do all of the perfectly normal things that a perfectly normal nine year old boy should do. Only, you're not perfectly normal. Not after today.<br />
<br />
Maybe it's because you're not perfectly normal that Ricky Timmins picked you to be his center of attention for the day. Maybe he can somehow sense it. Though, you doubt if he could sense it that he would be able to make any sense of the sensation, as you doubt his IQ could be that much higher then a frog's. Nevertheless, he's the big honcho of third grade bullies, and when you're twice as big as any other kid in your grade, your IQ doesn't really count for much. You were minding your own business with a couple of buddies by the jungle gym when this particularely daft individual was overpowered by the irresistable urge to push you to the ground. As you gather yourself up from the dirt you realise all your friends have disapeared.<br />
<br />
Turning to face your assailant, you comfort yourself in the knowledge that Ricky is only as big and scary as he is because he failed a grade. Had he not, he'd be just a normal fourth grader with an attitude problem, but in grade three he might as well be Bigfoot. When you factor in growth spurts, even just a year can be a big difference in size. You contemplate reminding Rick of this, but your precarious situation convinces you to rethink that idea.<br />
<br />
"What's for lunch dickwad?" he asked, as he raided my Buck Rogers lunch box. "Peanut-butter and jelly sandwhiches? Again? You know I don't like these."<br />
<br />
"My mom makes my lunches," you reply, sheepishly. A number of other things you'd rather say come to mind, but you decide that saying them prior to having secured a good escape plan is probably for the best. You begin to scan your surroundings, looking for a way out of this predicament.<br />
<br />
"Well, tell the wench to take some cooking lessons or something because this is crap," he says as he drops your lunch into the dirt and then proceeds to step on it. "Dickwad, don't you know it's bad to litter? Pick up that sandwhich and eat it."<br />
<br />
You've had just about as much as you can take of Ricky Timmins. You carefully kneel to pick up the sandwhich, eyeing Ricky the entire time, so as not to be kicked while you're down or befall some similar cowardly tactic. As you do, you grab a handful of dirt along with it, and slowly stand up. You glance at your watch. 12:41. Lunch is almost over. Soon the bell will ring and you will be home free. All you have to do is last that long. But Ricky also takes the time remaining into account, as he grows even more impatient with the impending humiliation you are about to recieve.<br />
<br />
"What are you waiting for? Eat it already!" His demands sound more like threats. You begin to comply, slowlhy moving the sandwhich and pile of dirt to your mouth, but then you stop.<br />
<br />
"You know Ricky, I'm really not hungry today. Why don't you have it?" Before he has time to respond, you throw the sandwhich and dirt in his face. He yells out angrily, blinded by the dirt and peanut-butter jelly combination. You don't wait for him to come to his senses, and before he knows what's going on, you're running across the school yard.<br />
<br />
"I'm gonna kill him!" you hear crying out from behind you. Soon he will be bareling after you, and his legs are bigger then yours. It's only a matter of time before you have to face his wrath, and with that in mind, you begin looking for a place to hide.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
[[Page 2]]...<br />
[[Category: Jensen: Time Traveler]]</div>Zinger2099http://editthis.info/THREAD_1/Page_1Page 12008-04-03T19:15:37Z<p>Zinger2099: </p>
<hr />
<div><center><br />
== '''Chapter One: Man out of Time''' ==<br />
</center><br />
{{Jensen's Status|Day=Tuesday|Date=May 1|Year=1987|Time=12:34 P.M.|Age=9}}<br />
----<br />
<br />
The first time it happened, you were nine years old. It was lunch hour at Nettleton Magnet Elementary School in Duluth Minnesota, and it was a sunny Spring day. This day wasn't much different than any other day, at least until it happened. Your name is Jensen Taskerhill, and you are a perfectly normal nine year old boy. You go to a perfectly normal school. You have a perfectly normal father who's a stock broker and is always away on business trips, but always gives you the time of day when he is home. You have a perfectly normal stay-at-home-mother that paints beautifully, drinks too much on Saturdays, and makes you peanut-butter and jelly sandwhiches for lunch. You run around, scrape your knees, play with your friends, read books, watch television, and do all of the perfectly normal things that a perfectly normal nine year old boy should do. Only, you're not perfectly normal. Not after today.<br />
<br />
Maybe it's because you're not perfectly normal that Rick Timmins picked you to be his center of attention for the day. Maybe he can somehow sense it. Though, you doubt if he could sense it that he would be able to make any sense of the sensation, as you doubt his IQ could be that much higher then a frog's. Nevertheless, he's the big honcho of third grade bullies, and when you're twice as big as any other kid in your grade, your IQ doesn't really count for much. You were minding your own business with a couple of buddies by the jungle gym when this particularely daft individual was overpowered by the irresistable urge to push you to the ground. As you gather yourself up from the dirt you realise all your friends have disapeared.<br />
<br />
Turning to face your assailant, you comfort yourself in the knowledge that Rick is only as big and scary as he is because he failed a grade. Had he not, he'd be just a normal fourth grader with an attitude problem, but in grade three he might as well be Bigfoot. When you factor in growth spurts, even just a year can be a big difference in size. You contemplate reminding Rick of this, but your precarious situation convinces you to rethink that idea.<br />
<br />
"Well, if it isn't Jenny-boy.<br />
<br />
[[Page 2]]...<br />
[[Category: Jensen: Time Traveler]]</div>Zinger2099http://editthis.info/THREAD_1/Page_1Page 12008-04-03T04:11:23Z<p>Zinger2099: </p>
<hr />
<div><center><br />
== '''Chapter One: Man out of Time''' ==<br />
</center><br />
{{Jensen's Status|Day=Tuesday|Date=May 1|Year=1987|Time=12:34 P.M.|Age=9}}<br />
----<br />
<br />
The first time it happened, you were nine years old. It was lunch hour at Nettleton Magnet Elementary School in Duluth Minnesota, and it was a sunny Spring day. This day wasn't much like any other day, at least until it happened. Your name is Jensen Taskerhill, and you are a perfectly normal nine year old boy. You go to a perfectly normal school. You have a perfectly normal father who's a stock broker and is always away on business trips, but always gives you the time of day when he is home. You have a perfectly normal stay-at-home-mother that paints beautifully, drinks too much on Saturdays, and makes you peanut-butter and jelly sandwhiches for lunch. You run around, scrape your knees, play with your friends, read books, watch television, and do all of the perfectly normal things that a perfectly normal nine year old boy should do. Only, you're not perfectly normal. Not after today.<br />
<br />
Maybe it's because you're not perfectly normal that Rick Timmins picked you to be his center of attention for the day. Maybe he can somehow sense it. Though, you doubt if he could sense it that he would be able to make any sense of the sensation, as you doubt his IQ could be that much higher then a frog's. Nevertheless, he's the big honcho of third grade bullies, and when you're twice as big as any other kid in your grade, your IQ doesn't really count for much. You were minding your own business with a couple of buddies by the jungle gym when this particularely daft individual was overpowered by the irresistable urge to push you to the ground. As you gather yourself up from the dirt you realise all your friends have disapeared.<br />
<br />
Turning to face your assailant, you comfort yourself in the knowledge that Rick is only as big and scary as he is because he failed a grade. Had he not, he'd be just a normal fourth grader with an attitude problem, but in grade three he might as well be Bigfoot. When you factor in growth spurts, even just a year can be a big difference in size. You contemplate reminding Rick of this, but your precarious situation convinces you to rethink that idea.<br />
<br />
"Well, if it isn't Jenny-boy.<br />
<br />
[[Page 2]]...<br />
[[Category: Jensen: Time Traveler]]</div>Zinger2099http://editthis.info/THREAD_1/Page_1Page 12008-04-03T04:01:14Z<p>Zinger2099: </p>
<hr />
<div><center><br />
== '''Chapter One: Man out of Time''' ==<br />
</center><br />
{{Jensen's Status|Day=Tuesday|Date=May 1|Year=1987|Time=12:34 P.M.|Age=9}}<br />
----<br />
<br />
The first time it happened, you were nine years old. It was lunch hour at Nettleton Magnet Elementary School in Duluth Minnesota, and it was a sunny Spring day. This day wasn't much like any other day, at least until it happened. Your name is Jensen Taskerhill, and you are a perfectly normal nine year old boy. You go to a perfectly normal school. You have a perfectly normal father who's a stock broker and is always away on business trips, but always gives you the time of day when he is home. You have a perfectly normal stay-at-home-mother that paints beautifully, drinks too much on Saturdays, and makes you peanut-butter and jelly sandwhiches for lunch. You run around, scrape your knees, play with your friends, read books, watch television, and do all of the perfectly normal things that a perfectly normal nine year old boy should do. Only, you're not perfectly normal. Not after today.<br />
<br />
Maybe it's because you're not perfectly normal that Rick Timmins picked you to be his center of attention for the day. Maybe he can somehow sense it. Though, you doubt if he could sense it that he would be able to make any sense of the sensation, as you doubt his IQ could be that much higher then a frog's. Nevertheless, he's the big honcho of third grade bullies, and when you're twice as big as any other kid in your grade, your IQ doesn't really count for much. You were minding your own business with a couple of buddies by the jungle gym when this particularely daft individual was overpowered by the irresistable urge to push you to the ground. As you gather yourself up from the dirt you realise all your friends have disapeared.<br />
<br />
Turning to face your assailant, you comfort yourself in the knowledge that Rick is only as big and scary as he is because he failed a grade. Had he not, he'd be just a normal fourth grader with an attitude problem, but in grade three he might as well be Bigfoot. When you factor in growth spurts, even just a year can be a big difference in size. You contemplate reminding Rick of this, but your precarious situation convinces you to rethink that idea.<br />
[[Page 2]]...<br />
[[Category: Jensen: Time Traveler]]</div>Zinger2099http://editthis.info/THREAD_1/Page_1Page 12008-04-03T03:51:57Z<p>Zinger2099: </p>
<hr />
<div><center><br />
== '''Chapter One: Man out of Time''' ==<br />
</center><br />
{{Jensen's Status|Day=Tuesday|Date=May 1|Year=1987|Time=12:34 P.M.|Age=9}}<br />
----<br />
<br />
The first time it happened, you were nine years old. It was lunch hour at Nettleton Magnet Elementary School in Duluth Minnesota, and it was a sunny Spring day. This day wasn't much like any other day, at least until it happened. Your name is Jensen Taskerhill, and you are a perfectly normal nine year old boy. You go to a perfectly normal school. You have a perfectly normal father who's a stock broker and is always away on business trips, but always gives you the time of day when he is home. You have a perfectly normal stay-at-home-mother that paints beautifully, drinks too much on Saturdays, and makes you peanut-butter and jelly sandwhiches for lunch. You run around, scrape your knees, play with your friends, read books, watch television, and do all of the perfectly normal things that a perfectly normal nine year old boy should do. Only, you're not perfectly normal. Not after today.<br />
<br />
Maybe it's because you're not perfectly normal that Rick Timmins picked you to be his center of attention for the day. Maybe he can somehow sense it. Though, you doubt if he could sense it that he would be able to make any sense of the sensation, as you doubt his IQ could be that much higher then a frog's. Nevertheless, he's the big honcho of third grade bullies, and when you're twice as big as any other kid in your grade, your IQ doesn't really count for much. You were minding your own business with a couple of buddies by the jungle gym when this particularely daft individual was overpowered by the irresistable urge to push you to the ground. As you gather yourself up from the dirt you realise all your friends have disapeared.<br />
<br />
Turn and face your assailant on [[Page 2]]...<br />
[[Category: Jensen: Time Traveler]]</div>Zinger2099http://editthis.info/THREAD_1/Page_1Page 12008-04-03T03:42:33Z<p>Zinger2099: </p>
<hr />
<div><center><br />
== '''Chapter One: Man out of Time''' ==<br />
</center><br />
{{Jensen's Status|Day=Tuesday|Date=May 1|Year=1987|Time=12:34 P.M.|Age=9}}<br />
----<br />
<br />
The first time it happened, you were nine years old. It was lunch hour at Nettleton Magnet Elementary School in Duluth Minnesota, and it was a sunny Spring day. This day wasn't much like any other day, at least until it happened. Your name is Jensen Taskerhill, and you are a perfectly normal nine year old boy. You go to a perfectly normal school. You have a perfectly normal father who's a stock broker and is always away on business trips, but always gives you the time of day when he is home. You have a perfectly normal stay-at-home-mother that paints beautifully, drinks too much on Saturdays, and makes you peanut-butter and jelly sandwhiches for lunch. You run around, scrape your knees, play with your friends, read books, watch television, and do all of the perfectly normal things that a perfectly normal nine year old boy should do. Only, you're not perfectly normal. Not after today.<br />
<br />
Maybe it's because you're not perfectly normal that Rick Timmins picked you to be his center of attention for the day. Maybe he can somehow sense it. Though, you doubt if he could sense it that he would be able to make any sense of the sensation, as you doubt his IQ could be that much higher then a frog's. Nevertheless, he's the big honcho of third grade bullies, and when you're twice as big as any other kid in your grade, your IQ doesn't really count for much.<br />
<br />
<br />
Do you:<br />
*[[Adventure/Option 1]]<br />
*[[Adventure/Option 2]]<br />
*[[Adventure/Option 3]]<br />
[[Category: Jensen: Time Traveler]]</div>Zinger2099http://editthis.info/THREAD_1/Page_1Page 12008-04-03T03:40:09Z<p>Zinger2099: </p>
<hr />
<div><center><br />
== '''Chapter One: Man out of Time''' ==<br />
</center><br />
{{Jensen's Status|Day=Tuesday|Date=May 1|Year=1987|Time=12:34 P.M.|Age=9}}<br />
----<br />
<br />
The first time it happened, you were nine years old. It was lunch hour at Nettleton Magnet Elementary School in Duluth Minnesota, and it was a sunny Spring day. This day wasn't much like any other day, at least until it happened. Your name is Jensen Taskerhill, and you are a perfectly normal nine year old boy. You go to a perfectly normal school. You have a perfectly normal father who's a stock broker and is always away on business trips, but always gives you the time of day when he is home. You have a perfectly normal stay-at-home-mother that paints beautifully, drinks too much on Saturdays, and makes you peanut-butter and jelly sandwhiches for lunch. You run around, scrape your knees, play with your friends, read books, watch television, and do all of the perfectly normal things that a perfectly normal nine year old boy should do. Only, you're not perfectly normal. Not after today.<br />
<br />
Maybe it's because you're not perfectly normal that Eddie O'Haira picked you to be his center of attention for the day. Maybe he can somehow sense it. Though, you doubt if he could sense it that he would be able to make any sense of the sensation, as you doubt his IQ could be that much higher then a frog's. Nevertheless, he's the big honcho of third grade bullies, and when you're twice as big as any other kid in your grade, your IQ doesn't really count for much.<br />
<br />
<br />
Do you:<br />
*[[Adventure/Option 1]]<br />
*[[Adventure/Option 2]]<br />
*[[Adventure/Option 3]]<br />
[[Category: Jensen: Time Traveler]]</div>Zinger2099http://editthis.info/THREAD_1/Template:Jensen%27s_StatusTemplate:Jensen's Status2008-04-03T03:37:48Z<p>Zinger2099: </p>
<hr />
<div>{| width="100%"<br />
| bgcolor="#00BB33" valign="top" width="100%" colspan="5"| <center>'''Jensen's Current Status Indicator'''</center><br />
|-<br />
| bgcolor="#OOFOO" valign="top" width="20%"| <center>'''Day'''</center><br />
| bgcolor="#DDFDD" valign="top" width="20%"| <center>'''Date'''</center><br />
| bgcolor="#GGFGG" valign="top" width="20%"| <center>'''Year'''</center><br />
| bgcolor="#DDFDD" valign="top" width="20%"| <center>'''Time'''</center><br />
| bgcolor="#GGFGG" valign="top" width="20%"| <center>'''Age'''</center><br />
|-<br />
| bgcolor="#DDFDD" valign="top" width="20%"| <center>{{{Day}}}</center><br />
| bgcolor="#OOFOO" valign="top" width="20%"| <center>{{{Date}}}</center><br />
| bgcolor="#DDFDD" valign="top" width="20%"| <center>{{{Year}}}</center><br />
| bgcolor="#OOFOO" valign="top" width="20%"| <center>{{{Time}}}</center><br />
| bgcolor="#DDFDD" valign="top" width="20%"| <center>''(Jensen is {{{Age}}})''</center><br />
<br />
|}<br />
<noinclude>[[Category:Templates]] [[Category: Jensen: Time Traveler| ]]</noinclude></div>Zinger2099http://editthis.info/THREAD_1/Page_1Page 12008-04-03T00:33:24Z<p>Zinger2099: </p>
<hr />
<div><center><br />
== '''Chapter One: Man out of Time''' ==<br />
</center><br />
{{Jensen's Status|Day=Tuesday|Date=May 1|Year=1987|Time=12:34 P.M.|Age=9}}<br />
----<br />
<br />
The first time it happened, you were nine years old. It was lunch hour at Nettleton Magnet Elementary School in Duluth Minnesota, and it was a sunny Spring day. This day wasn't much like any other day, at least until it happened. Your name is Jensen Taskerhill, and you are a perfectly normal nine year old boy. You go to a perfectly normal school. You have a perfectly normal father who's a stock broker and is always away on business trips, but always gives you the time of day when he is home. You have a perfectly normal stay-at-home-mother that paints beautifully, drinks too much on Saturdays, and makes you peanut-butter and jelly sandwhiches for lunch. You run around, scrape your knees, play with your friends, read books, watch television, and do all of the perfectly normal things that a perfectly normal nine year old boy should do. Only, you're not perfectly normal. Not after today.<br />
<br />
Maybe it's because you're not perfectly normal that Jack Timmins picked you to be his center of attention for the day. Maybe he can somehow sense it. Though, you doubt if he could sense it that he would be able to make any sense of the sensation, as you doubt his IQ could be that much higher then a frog's. Nevertheless, he's the big honcho of third grade bullies, and when you're twice as big as any other kid in your grade, your IQ doesn't really count for much.<br />
<br />
<br />
Do you:<br />
*[[Adventure/Option 1]]<br />
*[[Adventure/Option 2]]<br />
*[[Adventure/Option 3]]<br />
[[Category: Jensen: Time Traveler]]</div>Zinger2099