The Saga of Jerome: Part III; The Reckoning

Oh yes, you can ask Bob any question you want. I have a degree in……….SCIENCE!

In case you’re wondering about all this Jerome stuff, here are some links to keep you up to date:

The Return of Jerome

Jerome Doesn’t Live Here Anymore

Faced with the fact of Jerome’s horrible crime, I immediately started a plan to clear his name and keep him out of jail. In summary, Jerome unintentionally stole a candy bar. It may not sound like much to you, but we live in Nebraska, and we are not Caucasian. A mistake like this could land poor Jerome in jail for a good 10 years.

The sentiment is well described in a poem I wrote over 20 years ago:

There once was a black man from Nantucket.
Who smiled as he sat on a bucket.
Then he was shot by the Omaha Police.

– a poem by Bob Senitram –

Anyways, back to Jerome…

My first idea was to dig thru Jeromes trash, find the receipt, then buy a nut roll at another store and take the said receipt and nut roll back to the original store and tell the clerk, “When I got home, I noticed this nut roll wasn’t on the receipt, so I wanna pay for it now.” Then he would be off the hook.

We went back to Jeromes place, but we couldn’t find the receipt in all the mess…he lives like a pig!

The next day, I had it all figured out!

I would get a Mr. Coffee maker and duct tape it to the trunk of my car, then I’d get an old laptop and plug in a USB, then cut the USB wire and connect it to a flux capacitor I’ll make using pipe cleaners, then run a wire from the flux capacitor to the Mr. Coffee electric cord. I’ll put some bannana peels in the Coffee maker for power. Then I figured me and Jerome would drive 80 mph, and he would google the date before his crime and hit enter.

We would shoot back in time and I could remind him to pay for the salted nut roll.

We got right to work!

I just connected the flux capacitor to the USB, when a bead of sweat rolled down my forhead. “Jerome, open up that garage door, I’m sweatin’ to the oldies over here.”

I guess the ol’ lady heard the garage door and figured me and Jerome were sneakin’ out to get boozed up. Normally this wouldn’t bother her, but she was currently experiencing the joys of her monthly lady time.

She walks in instantly her head gets all steamed up on account of the mess. “ROBERTO HERCULES SENITRAM…WHAT THE HELL IS THIS!”

“Easy now.” I assure her. “I’m making a time machine so I can remind Jerome to pay for that salted nut roll that he forgot to pay for.”


Just then, our neighbor Felix walks by, “Hey Bob, hows that time machine goin’!”

“Gettin’ closer every minute!” I reply.

“Roberto is NOT building a time machine!” The ol’ lady yells.

“Well good luck and I’ll see you in the past!” Felix yells back.

She turns to me, “Clean up this mess!”

“Aaaaawwwww! I really want to go back in time.”

“Your not going anywhere but the dog-house if you don’t get all this junk out of here. Just take Jerome to the store, tell them he didn’t get charged for the candy bar and pay for it. It’s as simple as that!”

She stormed out of the garage in a hormone induced huff and muttered, “My god, I’m married to an idiot!”

“You heard the boss, Jerome, let’s clean this up and I’ll take you to the store.” I said as she was leaving.

But we didn’t, I finished the apparatus and soon we were zooming down the highway at 80 mph. “Now!” I signal Jerome to hit enter on the laptop. We saw lights flashing all around us as our transfer thru time began, then came a high pitch whir.

“It’s working..we did it!” I yelled over the noise as I fist pumped out the drivers window.

“I knew it would work!” Jerome shouted back.

I squealed to a halt when the transfer was complete. I couldn’t wait to check the date on my phone!

Then we heard the squeal of another cars brakes. Apparently the flashing lights and the high pitch noise came from a police care. I guess we exceeded the speed limit in our attempt to travel thru time.

Long story short…I ended up with a ticket.

We drove to the store and paid for the salted nut roll.

“Not a word of this to the ol’ lady.” I told Jerome.

“Not a word.” Jerome replied.


COMING NEXT: More classic Chick Shit for Chic Chicks!

Song in my head:

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Bob Senitram

Webmaster and editor of I obtained a bachelor's degree in micro-biology around the turn of the century but was quickly tracked down and forced to return it to its rightful owner and pay a $25 fine. *** A fan of science fiction, I started this website in 1999 as a portal for science fiction stories that have never been published. *** Completely devoid of talent, I decided to call on the public to supply content. Shortly afterwards Stephen and I started writing weekly columns and have continued to this day.

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