I watched Steins;Gate in my junior year of college. I had no doubt in my mind, upon finishing it, that I was now a certified theoretical physicist who was fluent in Japanese. I immediately changed my major from business to a double major in physics and Japanese.
I caused some awe during the first physics lecture when I interrupted class to demonstrate my extensive knowledge by saying, “The ginga we currently sundeiru in is sugoku ookii. Like, omoenai hodo big. Like, we’re talking so many hoshis and wakuseis and stuff that you can’t even kazoeru them.”
My professor was left speechless at my command of the Japanese language and my general erudition concerning all things physics-related.
In Japanese class, I refused to speak Japanese with those anime-watching peasants, my so-called ‘classmates’, who couldn't tell さ apart from ち let alone ツ from シ. I, on the other hand, knew both my hiragana and my katakana as well as a few kanji like 草, 一, and 尻.
My genius proved to be too unconventional for the restraints of the university. I got a failing mark in every class I took because my ideas were contrary to those of Einstein, Feynman, and Kepler.
But what did they know? If they were so smart how come they’re dead and I’m alive?
Checkmate physicists.
Anyway, I dropped out and decided to microwave a banana to test out my hypothesis about fruit-powered time travel. My results were mixed and my mom got really mad at me.
I was practically dying of ennui when I received a flyer one day. It said, ‘Volunteers wanted for a physics experiment. Come to the lab of Dr. Momosuzu. It’ll be tanoshii!!!”
I could use some tanoshii in my life so I took the mystery flyer up on its offer.
It was like walking into CERN. Chrome tubes crisscrossed like a tangle of fishing line throughout the lab. Multi-coloured lights blinked on panels and computer screens detailed elaborate equations and diagrams that I pretended to understand.
Overlooking what looked like a wooden boat levitating over a long track of ice was a scientist. I could tell she was a scientist because she wore a white lab coat, she had goggles on her forehead, and the letters “I AM A SCIENTIST!!!” stitched on the back of her coat.
She turned around and I saw she was no more than nineteen. Her hair was done up in two buns, and her green eyes glittered with the energy of limitless curiosity.
“Ah!!! You are the new volunteer, yes!!?”
“Uh-huh.”
“Okay!!! Sit here in this boat!!! Are you okay!!?”
I got in the boat and told her I was okay.
“Okay!!! Here is what is going to happen!!! I am going to activate the Nanomagnetic-ultrasound-quark-metabolizer thereby taking advantage of the Bologna-effect which will, in turn, provide the necessary energy to generate anti-gravitational force in the gigachad-boson-pantsu-matrix causing spacetime to collapse at the rate of one Lamy per 100 Polkas!!! Understand!!?”
“Naruhodo,” I said, though I didn’t naruhodo anything.
“Oh!!! You can speak Japanese!!! Jouzu desu ne!!!”
I didn’t know what ‘Jouzu desu ne’ meant so I just nodded and hoped it wasn’t a question.
“Okay!!! San!!! Ni!!! Ichi!!!... Go!!!”
It’s hard to describe the sensation of going from being completely inert to moving at one Lamy per 100 Polkas. It’s like your body turns into yarn and is stretched by elephants pulling in opposite directions. It felt like my head was in Toronto and my feet were somewhere in Mongolia.
I wanted to scream but my mouth was at least a thousand miles from my brain.
I must have lost consciousness, or maybe I fell out of spacetime and lapsed into non-being for however long in a time outside of time.
But when I came back, I took one look at the ferns around me and knew I was in the Cretaceous period. Or maybe it wasn’t the ferns. Maybe it was the duck-faced dinosaur that was nudging me with its bill, making a sound like, “Okaasan? Okaasan?”
“Okaasan janai yo,” I said.
It looked at me for a second, then threw its head back and screamed to the blue void above, “OMAAAEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!”
After it waddled off into the underbrush, I lied on my back and stared up at the Cretaceous sky.
I said the magic words.
“El psy congroo.”
But nothing happened.
