Feb. 16, 2631 —Dear Diary: Do I dare do it? It's so frustrating to have to be dependent upon the whims of a physicist like Croton Myers. I'm sure the man is a sadist—to say nothing of being a pompous ass with his scientific double-talk, and selfish to boot. Otherwise, why won't he let me use the time-grapple? All that folderol about disrupting the fabric of time. He actually patted me on the shoulder today when I swallowed my righteous indignation to the extent of pleading once more with him. "D