Time Machine!

Greetings, my name is Neville, and I invented the time machine. Was it a fit of whimsy in my laboratory that caused me to undertake such an endeavor? By Jove no! You see one day in Zanzibar I was taking a stick to some native merchant who wished to close his shop in order to pray, when I had not yet finished perusing his wares. Customer is always right, no matter the century you know! But in the course of throttling the blackguard I managed to splinter the branch I was using, and so I resorted to my cane. It was a really beautiful ivory handled staff, and though I was loathe to soil it against the unwashed head of the heathen, an insult must be replied to with devastating force.

Thus I found myself cracking his Mohammedan skull open under the merciless African sun, and the strain caused some beads of sweat to form on my brow. Naturally I sought to daub my head with my handkerchief, but to my horror I found it had fallen to the ground during my exertions, and the cretin I had been pummeling had the audacity to place it to his head in order to stem the gushes of blood then spurting from atop it! Well of course that handkerchief was as good as dead in my eyes, but as it had sentimental value, being not a traditional handkerchief but in fact a pair of undergarments I had pilfered from the satchel of my favorite whore the last time I found her comatose, I did not want to abandon it.

Therefore I resolved to develop a time machine, so I could travel back to the precise moment before I started beating the merchant with a stick, and properly secure the whore's panties before they could fall into his foul hands.

I say! That was some preamble, but now you have the fascinating story of how I came to invent my device. With it I can travel across time and across lands, and will be delighted to share my wisdom with you, though no doubt you are a dullard knee deep in the puddle of your own stupidity as you read this.