The Short Saga of Pickwick and Pudding
The Duchess Pudding of Yorkshire paced back and forth in front of the window. “You must go now!” she said to the Baron of Pickwick. “I cannot fathom what will happen if you do not flee.” She brought her hands up to the lace fichu* that quivered above her heaving bosom.
“I don’t have time for that now,” said the Baron. “I am just about to prove the theory of time travel. So stop your sobbing and pull that switch. I’m off to the Pleistocene.”
“You cannot leave me in this way!” the Duchess cried. “It would be a cruel, heartless thing for you to do. Take me with you, let us hie and away.”
At that moment, three Morlocks** burst through the picture window, guns blazing. Baron Pickwick unsheathed his 12 gauge, felling two of the monsters in a single motion. “Harriet,” he shouted, “My saber!”
“But Nigel!” the Duchess said, “You’re bleeding. How can you go on this way? We must flee from the Morlocks before my husband returns with his drinking fellows from the Naughty Hellfire Tavern.” She pulled out a handkerchief and dabbed the Baron’s bleeding arm.
He plucked the handkerchief from her hand and pushed a pistol into its place. “Hold them off while I tighten the hydrospanner,”*** he shouted.
She gingerly took the pistol from his outstretched hand. “I do not know if I can do this,” she said. She closed her eyes, and fired.
With a shout of “Eureka!” the Baron pulled the lever and they went off to the Pleistocene for many further adventures with dinosaurs.
(There are no living dinosaurs in the Pleistocene!)
(Maybe there are no dinosaurs in the Pleistocene now, but since I have a time-machine, I can put dinosaurs there.)
End of the Silliness
*If you're going to write a historical romance story, you need to put a fichu in somewhere.
**How can you have a time-travel story without Morlocks?
***If you're going to write a science-fiction story, it's just not complete without a reference to a hydrospanner.