Toast
It was a fine morning in July. The sun was rising, birds were singing outside, and there were only a few minor disruptions in the fabric of time. Arthur, a fine young man of sixteen, was sitting at his kitchen table, about to eat a fine piece of toast. Toast was extremely important to Arthur. In fact, Arthur probably wouldn’t get up in the morning if it wasn’t for toast. In a way, he was a toast connoisseur. He never put anything on his toast; doing so, he believed, would damage its natural perfection.
He was about to bite into his fine piece of toast when, suddenly, there was a blinding flash of light and a loud noise that could only be described as a “bang.” Arthur was briefly disoriented, but when he managed to gather his senses he noticed an oddly dressed figure standing a few feet away from him. It was a man, and he looked determined to do whatever it was he was going to do. He was wearing shiny blue jumpsuit and a belt that had various flashing lights on it. Arthur thought he looked familiar, but he wasn’t sure why. The man looked at Arthur, noticed the toast in Arthur’s hand, and instantly became tense. He was entirely focused on Arthur’s toast.
“Stop,” the strange man yelled, “don’t eat that toast!” The man looked frantic; his eyes were wide open and his teeth were tightly clenched. He stood ready to pounce on Arthur, as if Arthur was holding a bomb or the last cupcake rather than a piece of toast.
“Why not,” Arthur asked. “I happen to enjoy eating toast very much. In fact, it’s probably the only reason why I get up in the morning.” Arthur gently set his piece of toast down on the kitchen table. The strange man never took his eyes off of it.
“Listen,” the strange man said, “I know this must seem quite confusing, but I’m telling you; you can’t eat that toast. If you do, horrible things would happen. I would know; I come from a time where entire nations suffer from unspeakable horrors, all because you ate that fine piece of toast.” Arthur showed no expression; he was skeptical of this maniac’s story.
“Is that so,” Arthur flatly stated. The man straightened up and began to speak.
“Listen, Arthur, I know you won’t believe me, but I am none other than you, future you, twenty years from now.” Arthur raised an eyebrow. The man continued. “I made the mistake of eating that fine piece of toast that you were about to eat, and humanity paid the price for it.” Arthur spoke up. He still didn’t believe this wacko, but he figured it couldn’t hurt to humor him.
“Ah, I see, how about that?” Arthur pretended to be amused by his future self’s words. “So what happens when I eat this fine piece of toast, hm? Something terrible, right? Does it rain fire? Does the ocean swallow entire continents? Do elevators and escalators cease to exist?” Arthur couldn’t help but smirk at his own questions. His future self was not in the least bit amused.
“This isn’t a joke, Arthur. If you eat that toast it’ll-” Arthur’s future self was cut off when there was a loud “bang” and a flash of blinding light, both similar to the noise and flash that had occurred when Arthur’s future self had arrived. Arthur managed to shield his eyes from the light, but future Arthur hadn’t been as quick to respond, and was now doubled over on the floor, his hands over his eyes. When Arthur looked out from between his fingers he noticed another figure; another man. This one appeared older than Arthur’s future self, who was still lying on the floor, writhing in pain. He also looked familiar, and he was wearing the same jumpsuit as Arthur’s future self. Arthur had a hunch about who he was. The man looked around, noticed Arthur and raised his hand in greeting, beaming.
“Hello there, young Arthur!” Older Arthur looked young Arthur up and down. “My goodness, I had forgotten how scrawny I was back then.” Older Arthur scanned the kitchen briefly, looking for something. “Hm, that’s odd, I could’ve sworn I set the coordinates to… Arthur, have you seen a younger version of ourself, yet?” Arthur pointed to the floor, older Arthur glanced towards where Arthur was pointing. On the floor, the first future Arthur was on his knees, rubbing his eyes and blinking vigorously. Older Arthur helped him to his feet. “Really, Arthur? I realize I was still relatively new to time travelling back then, but you should’ve known to shield yourself from the space rupture.” The first future Arthur shook his head a bit and blinked some more, he appeared to have most of his vision back.
“I know,” he claimed. “I just didn’t expect another Arthur to show up.” The older Arthur chuckled lightly to himself, and then pulled out what looked like a video camera.
“Yes, I guess I did kind of catch you off guard, there. I didn’t mean to. I’m just here to record this little paradox so I can show it to our kids back in the future. I’ve told them the story before, but they’ve been bugging me to go film it, so here I am.” The other future Arthur was astonished, his mouth hung open.
“Are you serious? You’re here to record this for fun?” The first future Arthur was fuming with anger. The older Arthur had started recording. “I’m busy trying to stop a major catastrophe from happening, in case you don’t remember. We have to stop our young self over there from eating that fine piece of toast or else-” He was cut off again by another “bang” and flash of light. Now another figure stood in the room, but it was not another Arthur. It was a woman, wearing the same jumpsuit as the Arthurs. She had short, black hair and looked to be in her late thirties. Her hands were on her hips, and she looked irritated; never a good combination. She was glaring at the first future Arthur, who was, once again, sprawled out on the floor, blinded. Older Arthur kept recording and chuckling. The woman spoke up.
“Arthur, what the hell are you doing, going on a trip to the past at a time like this? You were supposed to take me out to dinner tonight. Get up, we’re going home.” Arthur didn’t respond, he was busy writhing in pain and moaning. The woman noticed older Arthur recording her with his camera. “And who, may I ask, are you?” Older Arthur raised his hand in greeting again.
“Hey hon.” The woman, who apparently was Arthur’s wife, was a bit surprised. Her anger seemed to dissipate slightly.
“Oh, that’s you, Arthur. Is that you many years from…” she motioned towards the first Arthur, still lying on the floor, “…that? You’ve put on some weight.” Older Arthur grinned.
“Yes, well, old age does that to you. You should see yourself back in my time period!” Arthur’s wife quickly put her hand up, signaling for him to stop.
“Please, spare me. Now that I know how you look, I don’t even want to know about how I look.”
All this time, young Arthur had remained seated in his chair by the kitchen table, staring at and listening to his future selves and his future wife. He was dumbfounded; this certainly was turning into quite a peculiar morning. He started to wonder if he ever woke up in the first place. The first Arthur stumbled to his feet, still a little groggy from his wife’s sudden materialization.
“Look, Miranda, I’m sorry I was late to dinner, but I have to stop that terrible thing from happening!” Arthur’s future wife, Miranda, rolled her eyes.
“Oh God, you’re really that worked up about this? Jeez, Arthur, I knew you were a bit obsessed with this but get over it!” Arthur was glaring at Miranda, or at least he was trying to. In reality he was glaring at the space to the left of Miranda; he couldn’t see very well.
“Obsessed?! I’m not obsessed, this is important! Don’t you realize what’s at stake? If I don’t stop my younger self over there,” he pointed at the refrigerator, three feet to the left of young Arthur, “then there won’t be-” He was, once again, interrupted by another “bang” and flash of light. Everyone had shielded their eyes from the blinding light. That is, everyone except for the first future Arthur, who was, once again, knocked to the floor, blinded. His hands were clasped over his eyes, and he was moaning loudly.
The new figure standing in the room before them was a middle-aged man in a uniform. He had what looked like a small computer attached to his wrist, and a fancy badge on his chest. His uniform looked a bit like the jumpsuits the future Arthurs were wearing, only his was more official-looking. The man’s presence was intimidating, as was his moustache. When he spoke, his loud, booming voice echoed throughout the kitchen.
“Alright, all of you stay where you are and don’t try anything sneaky. The number of futuristic people in this moment of time has gone over the allowed occupancy. Therefore, by order of the Multidimensional Paradox Regulation Department, you will all be immediately returned to your own time periods and appropriately ticketed.” The officer started to press buttons on the contraption on his wrist. Miranda sighed and crossed her arms.
“Great. Way to go, Arthur. Now we’re late to dinner and you got us both tickets. Both of which you’re going to pay for, right?” Her tone was commanding, and just as intimidating as the officer’s. The first Arthur could only groan in response, from the floor. The older Arthur was still recording everything that was happening, snickering to himself. The officer finished his button pressing and spoke up.
“Stand by for warp.” The first Arthur called out desperately to young Arthur from his spot on the floor.
“Arthur, the young one, don’t eat that toast, I’m begging you!” Young Arthur sat in his chair, gawking, too stunned by the scene before him to speak. “Trust me, you’ll regret it if you do! If you do, then there will never be-” The first future Arthur was cut off once again, but this time there was no light or a loud “bang.” Instead, he and the other time travelers instantly vanished, and there was a quiet, but distinct “pop.” Arthur was still. He was now the only Arthur in his kitchen. He shook his head, trying to clear his mind, which was a mess thanks to what just happened. He quickly came to the conclusion that he simply hallucinated. After questioning his sanity, he picked up his fine piece of toast and took a bite.
In a way, the first Arthur from the future was right; something terrible did happen, but mostly just to Arthur. What young Arthur didn’t realize was that the fine piece of toast he had eaten was dangerously radioactive. This was because the grain harvested to make the bread grew in soil that had been contaminated by excessive amounts of radiation. The soil was exposed to the radiation when a small meteorite entered the earth’s atmosphere, burned up into a smaller meteorite, bounced off a cow, tore through and consequently ruined a patch of tulips, and finally came to rest in the wheat field where the grain was growing. The meteorite contained highly radioactive compounds that contaminated the grain around it. Arthur, upon ingesting this toxic toast, became incredibly ill and was hospitalized. The doctors were baffled; they had never seen a food poisoning case like Arthur’s. As a result of their confusion and overreaction, they declared toast to be no longer edible. From then on, people had no other choice than to eat plain, untoasted bread. This was a tolerable adjustment, of course, for most of the world’s population. However, Arthur couldn’t have been more crestfallen. Now that toast was basically nonexistent, his life felt meaningless. His body’s immune system had eventually put a stop to his food poisoning, but he still felt sick without toast to make him happy. Congress had passed a bill that declared that all toasters be destroyed and all those caught making toast be imprisoned for life, so Arthur was essentially unable to make toast.
In time, Arthur married his therapist, Miranda, and they had three children. Arthur went on living his life, feeling a little bit empty inside. It had been years since he had last eaten toast, and not a day went by where Arthur didn’t think about toast. However, when the ability to time travel was discovered, he hatched a plan. This plan, he thought, was flawless. He planned to utilize his newly rented Time-O-Matic time machine to travel back to when he was younger and stop himself from eating that fateful piece of toast. On the same night of his and his wife’s anniversary, he came home early, turned on the time machine, and set his plan into motion.
Exactly what I would say. 
Replace the semi-colon with a comma or ellipse, possibly?