fandomhigh | The Mathematics of Quantum Neutrino Fields; Tuesday, Period 4 [ 11/09 ].

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The Mathematics of Quantum Neutrino Fields; Tuesday, Period 4 [ 11/09 ].

"I feel," Farnsworth said to his class today as things got started, "that today is a very good day to discuss a very important topic in the subject of Quantum Neutrino Fields, and that is what I like to call Let's Hope You're Not Your Own Grandfather."

"The Grandfather Paradox is a fun little quirk in the theory of time travel in which you are your own grandfather. Or grandmother in the case of you unfortunate ones who have female parts. Let's say, just for funsies, you wound up traveling back in time, accidentally, or perhaps intentionally, killed your grandfather, and then met your grandmother who, guess what, was actually a total babe. Unable to help yourself, you have a nice little fling with her and knock her up with, of all people, your father. Or, conversely, if one grandparent died, then one of your parents would never be conceived, and, therefor, unless you want to cease to exist entirely, you must man up and do the deed with your grandmother instead. Or perhaps you were meant to travel back in time and be your own grandparent the whole time, in which case not doing it will throw off the entire balance of the entire space time continuum.

"Luckily, there's a formula!"

Of course there was. And of course it was all seemingly nonsense, which probably wasn't helped by the fact that Farnsworth was discussing sex with your grandparents on a day like today.

"And before any of you tell me that this is impossible, I'd like to present to you Exhibit A." Here, Farnsworth pulled down a shade with the image of an awkward young man with red hair. "This unfortunate waste of human material actually somehow shares genetics with me, though I do not know and do not care to know which ones. His name is Philip J. Fry, and he is his own grandfather. He's my great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great uncle, and I was there when it happened. Well, not there there, but in the past there, and I saw the morning after and it wasn't pretty. But, one could argue, as disgusting and immoral as it may be, without Fry doing to the nasty in the pasty with his own grandmother, I would not be here today.

"So what does this all mean for you? Well, we will be going to the Danger Shop for a simulated time travel space bar experience in which you will be thrown in with many other young nubile singles, some of who maybe your own relatives, some of whom may not be. It will be a hotbed of uncertainty and hormones as you try to figure out if this woman resembles that blue haired lush you call Nana or not, and if, by sleeping with her, you will be ruining your existence or ensuring it. Don't everybody get up at once, let's go."

Forget lectures on horrifying STD to scare a little bit of abstinence into these raging balls of USTs. Farnsworth was going to try to do it with Quantum Physics.

[[ wait for the ocd! ]]

[[ Previous Classes ]]

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In the past!

Christian

Kate Gregson

Chuck Bartowski

Harper Finkle

George Lass

Look at it this way: maybe the confusing nature of paradoxes in general will be enough to shield you from being too disgusted by the subject matter.

Or maybe you're really into this sort of thing. You sick puppy.

George was pretty sure this wasn't even possible.

At least, she hoped not.

You're in a trendy-hip, time-nonspecific parallel-universe space bar filled with hot singles you may be related to.

Interact with each other, mod at will, or try your hand at some other interactions ~~once the mun is hone from work~~.

And now Christian had to deal with the sneaking horror that someone he'd met in this time was somehow descended from him. It wasn't his grandmother he was worried about, so much as his great-granddaughter, which might cause less of a paradox but was still distinctly squickworthy.

He tried to shake it off and look vaguely approachable.

It was then, of course, that a redhead did find him very approachable indeed and sidled up with a smooth smile. "Hey, there, handsome. How'd you like to buy me a drink?"

Christian gulped, almost cartoonishly, before managing a smile for the redhead.

There was something about redheads ...

"I think I'd like that very much," he said. "Depending on what kind of drink."

"Oh?" the woman asked with a little bit of a laugh. "Are we trying to avoid alcohol? Or just watching your wallet?"

"Neither," Christian laughed back, bantering. "I just don't want to promise to buy you a drink and have you order something dreadful. It would wreck my image."

... he had no image.

As if that mattered to space bar time floozies who might be related to you.

"I'd gladly take something you'd suggest," she offered. "Then, I'll get a better idea of your own tastes."

"I think just red wine," Christian answered, although not decisively. "I like the way it feels on the lips, don't you?"

"I think that's a wonderful way to appreciate such a fine drink," the redhead easily agreed, smiling as she leaned in a little. "One of the many things that feels good on the lips, yes?"

"One of several," Christian said, gesturing to the bartender to place their order. "There's ... water on a hot day, too, isn't there?"

"That's not...exactly what I had in mind," the woman said with a laugh. "But I certainly can't deny it. What else, do you think?"

"Oil," Christian said. "Fabrics ... I suppose you want me to say kissing, but I'm too clever for that."

"I'm not sure I'd call a lack of appreciation for a good kiss the trait of a clever man," the woman prompted.

"I didn't say I didn't appreciate a kiss," Christian said. "IO just think it isn't very clever to list that off first thing."

"Perhaps not," the woman allowed with a grin. "Wouldn't want to seem too obvious."

Yeah, Kate was not going to look even as approachable as Christian. In fact, she was not going to talk to anyone. At all.

She was just going to lean against a wall and stare at her shoes.

Kate might not be very interested in talking to anyone, but someone was certainly interested in talking her.

"There must be something terribly fascinating about those shoes," the young man said with a smooth smile, "but I think I find everything above them to be far more interesting."

"Yeah well everything above them is completely off limits for you, stranger," Kate drawled, eyes still on those shoes of her. "Move along."

Of course, she couldn't quite resist glancing up, briefly, and um. Hi, hot guy.

"And you're not getting my shoes either."

Chuck was still twitchy because of whatever was in the air this week, and at the same time kind of creeped out by this whole exercize.

But he was at least trying to blend, and not think about the idea he might be related to the person he was supposedly trying to flirt with here. Because right now, he was liable to think that way, and it felt really, really wrong.

"So," a pretty girl with bright blue eyes stepped up to Chuck with a smile, "my friend and I had a bet going, about how tall you were, but I'm the only one who had the guts to actually come over and find out which of us is right, so...?"

George was giving off a "do not talk to me" vibe, as best she could.

While checking out the pretty people. She might be dead, but she wasn't .... hang on, what expression should you use if you actually were dead?

"You're too pretty too look so upset," someone offered, giving George a hopeful smile.

"I ... am?" George said, raising her eyebrows at the newcomer.

George sucked at flirting.

"Okay," she said. "So what are you ... doing here?"

Sucked really hard. Seriously.

"I'm mostly just hoping to meet new people," the boy offered with a smile, which he figured was a good cover for the fact that he wasn't old enough to drink yet. "How about yourself?"

"... Riiiight," George said. "Is that a pick-up line? It kind of sounds like one."

"If it was, it wasn't a very good one." Even he had to admit to that. "But...okay, maybe it was. A little bit. Okay, kind of a lot..."

"Okay," George said. "I can't ... tell if I'm supposed to let you pick me up, or not."

The lecture had been a little unclear on that point. Never mind if she could tell if he was related to her. She tried to see if his face reminded her of Reggie's, but came up with nothing.

"... How old are you, anyway?"

"Eighteen," he said, with a very convincing crack in his voice.

Edited 2010-11-10 04:04 (UTC)

"Have you actually gone through puberty?" George asked.

He's a special, special man.

I am so, so glad I've been holding off on this lecture because the timing is perfect!

SP for interactions from me until later, for which I greatly apologize!

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The Mathematics of Quantum Neutrino Fields; Tuesday, Period 4 [ 11/09 ].

Sign In -- M.o.Q.N.F., 11/09.

Re: Sign In -- M.o.Q.N.F., 11/09.

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Listen to the Lecture -- M.o.Q.N.F., 11/09.

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Get your Time Travelling Flirt On -- M.o.Q.N.F., 11/09.

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Re: Get your Time Travelling Flirt On -- M.o.Q.N.F., 11/09.

Talk to Farnsworth -- M.o.Q.N.F.,11/09.

OOC -- M.o.Q.N.F., 11/09.