The Universe Machine

I created a machine,

Unlike any other,

With my best pal Arnold,

He was like my brother.

It had to be top secret,

In a secret place,

Under a secret mess,

A machine that could access,

Every. Alternate. Universe.

A Sheriff, A King.

A success.

Tired of being judged,

I'm no longer something less.

At first,

Arnold tested it out,

Innovators take risks I told him,

We flipped a coin,

Tails always wins,

He crawled inside, and left with a pout.

Next time I saw him,

He was Sheriff of the South,

Yup,

Arnold wanted to be a cowboy,

Like Woody,

from Toy Story,

Such joy,

Giggling and laughing,

He hugged me too,

Then he yew hawed so loud,

When he got up off the ground,

Told me about the Bandits and the outlaws,

And how he burned the breeze,

Then a nasty sneeze.

This machine needed cleaning,

Labs like mine,

Known for disease.

Astonished, dazed,

I was about to fall off my feet,

Then the black beany bag saved me,

Pretty cool,

I got this for free,

But I stayed down,

And rubbed my eyes for a second,

And made sure that this is what it seems,

Arnold made it to an alternate universe,

And got to live all his dreams,

So I stood and cursed my doubters with a scream,

And put my arm around Arnold,

Like the Wright Brothers,

But a better team.

Fairytale is just beginning though,

A machine that makes dreams possible,

The public would be like "woah",

Arnold didn't get it,

He wanted to be famous,

He's still yee-hawing like an idiot,

That machine just made him shameless.

So I put my hand over his mouth,

I was never a fan of the south,

Before anything happens,

I needed to try this machine out myself.

Fame would be waiting,

And I didn't need anyone else's approval anyway,

Every time I asked for a loan,

They pushed me away.

Four corners,

had no top,

Twelve buttons,

And look in the mirror,

Till you hear a pop,

Then pull on the trigger,

Until you hear a ring,

And next thing you know,

I was in a different universe,

And I was king.

Simple instructions,

Yeah,

this machine was pretty advanced,

Before I take this all in,

I'm going to do a little dance,

Just a side effect,

But I'm feeling a little hazy,

I'm a mad genius,

But without the crazy,

I'm not crazy.

Shook it off,

Who cares anyway?

I had a crown on my head,

a nifty royal stick to lead the way,

The machine landed in the middle of a crowd,

I can hear the peasants around me though,

They were making some sound,

As I marched around,

And my steps graced the ground.

Nodded to a few,

As they looked in surprise,

A king in their midst,

Bowing would be wise,

Like I mentioned earlier,

I was done being lesser,

I created this machine,

Just so everyone could see I was better.

So I continued on my march,

Even waved and smiled too,

Looked all royal,

And made sure to bring my machine through,

Then paused for a second,

as I asked myself,

"What do kings do?"

I'll anoint some knights,

I needed my own security crew.

So I take my royal stick,

and tap a guy or two,

That sounded really wrong,

No, I don't fuck dudes.

One of them pushes me,

Wanting to start a fight,

How dare he put his hand on me?

He has no right.

Peasants seem to be revolting,

I'm gonna take flight,

At least I still have my machine,

Now I just wish Arnold was on my right.

I pass a covered bench,

With a lady seated on the side,

She gets up quickly,

As she sees me coming by,

Then I place my hand out,

The one with the ring,

"Lady, You may kiss it, and be honored, I'm your king"

She laughs.

And asks if this is a joke,

"I ain't kissin no fool who's broke",

How dare you?

Do you know who I am?

I am the King,

A very fine man,

The finest in this universe,

Now give me your name,

You insolent peasant,

Do you have no shame?

"Martha", she said

As I granted her a pardon,

Probably another side effect,

But I can feel my dick just harden,

Convincing signs,

I'm gonna take out my whiskey,

Right out of my black bag,

So me and Martha can get frisky,

Was gonna get my game on,

But then a bus full of peasants stopped,

So I hid in my machine,

And wished I installed a top,

Sneezed,

And wiped the snot.

Machine was still filthy,

And I needed to improve my hygiene,

Maybe when I pop my head back up,

I can make Martha my first Queen.

But the bus was gone.

And Martha was too.

Can't even go chasing after her,

I have to keep my guard,

A love story with no happy ending,

Like it was written by The Bard.

I take a couple more sips,

To conceal the pain,

I might still be King,

But I'll never be the same........

I'm pretty drunk now,

I drank a lot of booze,

My dick is still hard though,

And now I'm really confused,

"Did I ever love Martha?"

Or did my erection create a ruse,

A side effect,

No rational man would choose.

Coast is finally clear,

And now I'm on my way,

I'm still thinking of Arnold though,

And now I might be gay?

Let's brush it off for now,

This thinking is just slowing me down,

One sec though,

Before we go any further,

I'm gonna check the mirror in this machine,

And adjust my royal crown.

Let's center it real careful,

So it evens out the weight,

Now look in the mirror,

And don't get tempted to masterbate.

“Hey Peasant"

"Yeah, you"

“Now, I’m gonna give it to you straight”

“Yes you heard me right”

“I like the way I look,”

“Even when I turn my back,”

“My ass looks oh so tight.”

“You might be on your high horse”

“Thinking this is sick,”

“A man in love with himself,”

“And his hard ass dick.”

“And I know that might be odd,”

“But I'm kind of just like God,”

“Because I got this rod,”

“And a tough time convincing some peasants,”

“Who question if I'm a fraud.”

"Oh don't be so pious,"

"If I ever made my machine public,"

"You'd have a boner like mine,"

"But for science."

"Now let me get back to my story,"

"If you're lucky,"

"You'll get to vicariously bask in my glory."

I drag my machine,

In the shade and the background,

Get my way around the city,

Through the alleyways and underground.

Make sure my crown is off,

And my royal stick hidden too,

Have to keep a disguise,

Hope no one was tipped off about the other royal stick,

Persistent between my thighs.

I can't even remember the last time I ate.

Like Gandhi and Mandela,

Greatness needed to suffer to reach its fate.

I stop at an alleyway, and put my back against the wall,

On my feet, until I trip over my machine,

And fall.

On the floor in frustration,

I take a breath,

As I notice two peasants,

On the other side,

Lighting some meth.

Have to take them out,

But I can't be too careful,

So I grab a shard of glass from the mirror when I fell,

And walk up to them with a look so baleful.

Look them in the eyes,

And spit in the floor

In contempt,

"I warn you to step back, you treasonous spies".

"Marty?" One of them says,

I think they saw straight through me,

Silly,

But I was kind of hoping they'd be more ruly,

A king in their presence,

The lack of recognition makes me gloomy.

But at least I'm safe,

If I learned anything during my time here,

It's that these peasants don't want me as King,

But that will "change"?

Damn it!

I'm speaking to myself out loud again..

"We don't have any Marty, did you try Main Street?"

"They got a couple of generous folks down there"

If I stay quiet, and let the Peasants talk.

They might forget about me, and let me walk.

I finally grab my machine,

As the peasants hit the peak of their high,

Walk right past them,

On the sidewalk,

Pass a food truck that sells Thai,

Mouth waters,

But my heart falters,

The risk isn't worth taking,

When I take my place as King,

I'll be filling every craving.

I find a quiet corner,

Get in my machine,

And tape back the missing piece of glass,

Then look in the reflection,

In the mirror that's now whole,

Look exhausted.

Traveling universes,

Takes a toll.

"Hey Peasant, I know you’re probably think my machine just messed up."

"Waiting for the part of the story where I back my promises up"

"I'm doubting myself too, and this stinkin’ machine. But as I said, It will make true every dream"

"Switching the order of the words, for it just to rhyme"

“Tinkering with the grammar isn’t the worst crime”

"Treason, though? Something I won't forgive."

"Have to get down to why there is a revolution"

"The King Long Live."

I tap 5-0-5,

On the dial with the twelve buttons,

Communicating with another universe through the mirror was in a testing stage,

I know I'm a genius,

A King,

And a sage.

But enough about myself,

This was about my best pal Arnold,

Getting his support,

Before I decide to call an end on my time here,

And hit abort.

So I pull on the trigger,

And wait for a ring.

Close my eyes...........

"Uhhmm...........Let me...remind you I'm King"

"Yeah I guess my rhymes can get a little repetitive and lazy"

"You try rhyming all the time............"

"You.............baby"

I throw my hands in the air,

As I hear a YEE-HAW!,

Notice Arnold in the mirror,

It's like we're talking on Skype,

I still hate his ten gallon hat,

But love his fancy glass pipe,

He puffs it through the screen,

But I tell him he has to focus,

We can't rely on this to last,

Before our communication breaks through,

We have to get right on task.

Arnold had better than advice,

He installed his own little invention,

Back home,

While I wasn't really paying attention,

A feature that can transport your friends and family,

I tell him he's the best and I'll have him here gladly,

He reaches his hand through the mirror and tells me to pull,

I pull his hand through,

Until the force just blasts me,

I fall back,

And land pretty badly.

Then look up,

And see Arnold on his stallion,

A heroic moment,

As he reaches his hand out so valiant,

"I will help you get back your Kingdom, and end this revolution"

I hold my hand up temporarily declining his offers,

"Uhhhhhhhh... Yes"

I finally came in my boxers.

"What a load off"

"That was a pun."

"How inconsiderate, please excuse me,

Was pointing that out a turn off?"

Arnold helps me up,

offers me the front,

"You're the King, you shall lead",

Honorable,

But clearly just avoiding the prospect of more accidents with my seed.

Machine in Arnold's grip,

We gallop forward,

Tirelessly searching for an answer,

In a universe where peasants are rebelling against their own master..

I borrow Arnold's cowboy hat,

Cover my face,

To make sure I won't get recognised,

I'll even "Yeehaw",

As loud as I can,

Embrace everything I despised.

That was Arnold though,

So different but so alike,

A creator,

An innovator,

A brother.

Holy Trinity?

Kind of like God..

I Turn and smile at him,

Giving him my best Cowboy Nod.

I spot a bus stop,

And stop at the spot where I met Martha,

Could be an omen of good fortune that we passed by,

But I gallop ahead before Arnold asks why,

Then the moment I've been relishing finally arrives,

Arnold taps me on the shoulder, and points to a flyer,

I pick it up,

And skim past the offer for fries,

And find what I'm looking for on the bottom left,

A King.

Clearly on the rise....

My grip tightens,

Crumpling the paper in the palm of my hand,

Rage fills me,

But I couldn't be riding to his address any faster,

A fraud King taking my place,

"Get ready for the part where I dethrone this bastard".

Propaganda everywhere,

Filling these peasants heads with lies,

No wonder there's a rebellion,

But there won't be one if he dies..

We arrive at our destination,

The traitor’s name is honoured on top,

"Are you kidding me?",

“Can't wait to bring this to a stop.”

I get off the saddle,

Never hungrier for battle,

About to step in his territory,

But I need to do this alone,

So I turn and thank Arnold for his services,

"Please stay here, and watch the perimeter",

He smiles, but I can tell he's nervous, noticing his jitter.

I give him a reassuring look,

And make my grand entrance.

With my royal stick in hand,

The treacherous rebels look at me like a menace,

I walk up to where King Fuck was sitting,

On a dais excluded from the peasants,

What a hypocrite,

Setting up a feast,

A king like me... Would sit with them at least.

“I guess that’s probably not true”

"You're all way beneath me",

I look him in the eyes,

But before he says anything,

I rip his head off his shoulders with my bare hands so beastly!

Then gently lay my machine aside the throne very neatly.

I throw the fool off the throne,

And take my place as I hear the peasants’ collective moan,

"I am your King!"

What a delicious moment,

Their even honoring me by taking videos of me with their phones.

"Hey Arnold!"

"That show on Nickelodeon?",

"No you damn peasant, my best friend Arnold, I'd love for him to see me on this podium",

But two men in blue uniforms enter instead,

Trying to calm everyone down,

Even the ladies at the counter,

Who've stopped serving the food at the feast,

wearing a frown.

Must be the traitor King's closest men,

They walk towards me,

And tell me to get on my knees,

How dare they speak this way to me?!,

"Can I have a burger with no cheese?",

It's still that same dude,

"I told him to be silent!",

You know what,

I think I’ll go ahead and rip his head off too,

It’ll teach a lesson to these traitors in blue.

I march towards him but two more of King Fuck's men grab a hold of me,

Drop me to the ground,

Chain my hands very boldly.

Escort me out,

As I remind all of the peasants who refused to help,

"Y’all will pay for ruinin’ my party!"

Guiding me into their vehicle, they quell the peasants' fears on the sidewalk,

"It's alright, it's just crazy old Marty".