I’m not a man of science. Nor am I a man of God.
For I am just a man.
A MAN WITH A FRIGGING WORMHOLE UNDERNEATH MY DESK.
Let me explain.
Every day, I come into work and sit down at my desk, like you do. I crank on my little pixar lamp that I have. I turn on my computer. I ponder my life and what exactly I’m doing with it.
Then, I drop something.
It’s something different every day. One morning it might be my favorite pen. Another, it might not happen until three or four in the afternoon. Sometimes, I drop an almond from my customary batch of trail mix I eat on the reg.
But I’ll be damned if each freaking time I drop something…I cannot find it anywhere.
I pull out my phone and turn on my bright, shining beacon of an LED and start poking around.
You know what I find?
Not a damn thing.
The only logical explanation is that a massive tear in space and time has opened up underneath my desk and is sucking in anything that I drop, only to spit it out in some other plane for some other lucky bastard to enjoy.
Why don’t I fall through? I can only assume that the wormhole is smaller than my chair.
It’s pretty simple, guys. Keep up.
I’ve lost pens. I’ve lost pencils. I’ve lost batteries, raisins…today I even lost a bean from my lunch.
Listen. It’s. Not. There.
I’ve looked everywhere. I got down on my knees and rubbed my hands across the carpet.
The only possible explanation is that a portal to another dimension has presented itself underneath my desk.
I found the bean.