Tag Archives: moon

Dawson Filter as He Relates to Sound

For two years, Dawson Filter and Sylvester Denny had been in quest to discover the True Meaning of Feelings. For nearly all of that time, they had no idea whatsoever how to find it or where to start looking. They’d endured attack and legal proceeding, dragon and Scottsman. But now they knew exactly who knew the Meaning, and had a time machine to get to him.

But of course, complications.

“What is the meaning of this?” a thin man in a dark green cloak asked them. He must have heard them in the hallway.

“Well, see,” Sylvester Denny pointed to his eyes nervously, “we’re search – looking for the True Meaning stove Feeling; and Wayne Rubblefish – or some of his goons, I guess, stole our time machine. That’s what this is.” He banged on the side of Felipe’s time machine a few times, causing it to shed lavender-scented dust.

“I gave Wayne Rubblefish direct orders not to waste his time meddling in your affairs.”

“I suppose we can leave, then?” Dawson Filter said.

“No, I think it’s best if we call Rubblefish down here now to sort this out.”

The man pulled a pager from his satchel and pressed several buttons on it. After several awkward minutes, Wayne Rubblefish emerged.

“You wanted to speak with me, Xavier X?”

“Yes. I would like you to explain to me what this time machine is doing in this room against my direct orders.”

“Well, you see,” said Wayne, shuffling a deck of cards, “this is a time machine. You only gave me orders to leave these folks alone a month ago; but I brought them here a year before that. It’s just that they’re arriving now.”

“They say they’re leaving.”


“I don’t think you kidnapped these individuals. I think you brought them here to conspire against the Illuminati for the Blind.”

Xavier X pulled back his hood, revealing his glassy eyes and bald spot. Wayne Rubblefish pushed Sylvester, Dawson, and Felipe into the time machine and jumped in after them.

“The moon, 1932?” Felipe asked. Dawson Filter nodded, and the machine twitched.

When the door opened, Twelve-Anne Stradivari and Babe Listowel rushed over to greet the time travellers.

“How did it go?” Twelve-Anne asked, “Did you find the Meaning?”

“No, we picked the wrong Sherlock Dracula. We need to find his twin, Sherlock Dracula,” answered Dawson Filter.

Wayne Rubblefish had run out of the machine, and had set to work knocking items off of the Quest Committee’s tables, making sure to pick items at irregular intervals to maximize unsightliness.

“Where is this Sherlock Dracula?” Babe Listowel inquired inquisitively.

“Franell. It’s a dwarf planet, largely uncharted.”

“Oh! That Sherlock Dracula.” Felipe said, “Nice man, bit eccentric. I have Franell’s coordinates for June 27, 2096. That’s when he likes me to visit. Hey, they’re even on the floor. How convenient.”

Twelve-Anne picked up the octagonal piece of paper to which Felipe pointed. 1889127, 1782. June 27, 2096. She tossed the paper to Felipe, who caught it in the back of his hand. Without skipping a beat or skipping, Felipe typed the coordinates into his time machine. The time machine had the habit of making sounds without any regularity, ranging from loud clanking to rhythmic whistling. It gave the impression that the machine was in need of maintenance, although Felipe was never able to stop the sounds with any repairs. This time it purred.

The Quest Committee and Wayne Rubblefish boarded the time machine. Wayne stuck his foot in the door to try to keep it from closing, but only lost his shoe in the attempt. Felipe pressed the button to travel, and the machine gave a sound very much like chuckling.


Dawson Filter as He Relates to the Elderly

Dawson Filter looked around the room that he’d just entered. The first place he looked was at a calendar, since he’d come to the room by time machine, and had an imperfect biological clock.

“October 14, 1932,” the calendar said. Dawson Filter initially thought it was lying; talking calendar technology was only invented in 2021, after all. Then he remembered time travel, and it made sense for the calendar to be then.

The second place he looked was at the person in the room, whom he identified as his friend Felipe, an intern of sorts.

“Hello,” he said to the aforementioned person, “where are we?”

“On the Earth Moon, Dawson,” Felipe replied, “on the Earth Moon.”

Felipe had aged. Grey hair grew from his scalp, and his nose had turned downward slightly. Seeing Dawson Filter’s eyes move along the edge of his hairline, Felipe decided to answer as many of the questions in Dawson’s head as possible.

“Do you remember the apocalypse, Dawson? When that arsonist Makayla Pundit burned down that forest and every single fire hazard in the world burst into flames as a result? I saved everyone. Did it in four seconds, by some counts. I counted twelve years. That’s still over 400 people a second, so it was a productive twelve years. Then I went on a series of adventures for thirty-five. I set up this place as my base. As a result of these things, I am old.”

Dawson Filter thought about what Felipe said. He thought about his own mission, to discover the True Meaning of Feelings. He’d given Felipe the time machine as part of an internship program; so Felipe could help out around the quest. Felipe had shown great initiative, and Dawson Filter would be more than willing to offer him a full-time position. But Felipe was over qualified.

“I was thinking that maybe we could work together on the feelings quest,” Felipe continued, cutting off Dawson mid-thought, “You and the rest of the Quest Committee can stay at my base. The Luna programme doesn’t start until 1959, so no one’s going to find us. It’ll be just like the good old days, but I’ll have a few more quests under my belt this time. I told some people in the future about your quest, too. And how to build time machines. Theirs aren’t as nice as ours, though; and they haven’t made much progress with the quest, either, except to establish that it has something to do with the way people feel. I can bring your troop here now if you like. It’ll be even easier if they like.”

Dawson Filter nodded, and saw Felipe come back with Sylvester Denny, Twelve-Anne, and Babe Listowel a few seconds before Felipe left.

“Hello, all,” he said.

“Hello, one,” they replied in unison.

“What can I do for you?”

“Not much, what can we do for you?”

“Equally little. Let’s do the quest things.”

Babe Listowel set down a table he’d been carrying to lay out everything the group had gathered. The crossword puzzle, the IFTB’s Guide to Being, Twelve-Anne’s memoirs. Dawson Filter suddenly realized why Felipe had brought them 1932: because 1932 is a leap year, and it’s symbolic of all the leaps the Quest Committee was sure to make. Felipe sure was good at symbolism.

Dawson Filter as He Relates to Real Screwdrivers

Looking out of a window while simultaneously standing, Dawson Filter sighed. It was the first sigh in the rest of his life, he knew; but he also knew, as a side effect of looking out of the window, that he was on the moon. This is why he sighed.

“We are on the moon.” He told Twelve-Anne.

“I know, I saw the window.”

Dawson continued standing. He decided to think; and before he knew it, he was talking.

“Thing: We still need to save Sylvester’s life.”

“That works out nicely, given that I just created a twelve step plan for how to do so via my mind.” Twelve-Anne offered.

“That sounds like the sort of twelve step plan I would like to hear.” Dawson affirmed, words and all.

“Step 1:” She began, “Build a space shuttle out of scrap metal and love. Step 2: Fly said shuttle to Earth. To avoid death during this step, stay safe. Step 3: Sail from Point A to Manhattan. Step 4: Use foot to go to 79th Street. Step 5: Ensure that you are positioned outside of the only shack on the street besides Simôn’s Aromatherapy. Step 6: Take a brief moment to celebrate that you have reached the halfway point in your quest. Step 7: Open a door. Step 8: Enter the shack through the doorway, which you should have just rid of all doors. Step 9. Find Sylvester Denny strapped to a chair in a darkened room. Step 10: Remove Sylvester from chair. Step 11: Remove any desire to stay with chair from Sylvester’s heart. Step 12: Sail out of Manhattan, Sylvester Denny in hand.”

Dawson nodded and built a space shuttle.

“That’s all well and good, but the rocket would be marginally more useful outside.” Twelve-Anne pointed outwardly, “And it’s too dazzlingly large and sturdily built to fit through the door.”

“Well, if we can’t bring the rocket outside, I suppose we’ll simply have to bring outside to the rocket.”

“That sounds to be a real problem, what with the roof and everything.”

“And real problems require real screwdrivers.” Dawson said, tossing aside a jar of oatmeal.

Dawson Filter began to point around the room, and Twelve-Anne followed his finger’s ray with her vision’s field. He pointed first to the screws holding the ceiling in place; then to a table. On top of this table rested a line of screwdrivers, each glistening in the moonlight (Assuming that any light originating from, and not just reflecting off of, the moon counts as moonlight. This particular moonlight was generated by the lamps lining the walls of the room.) He ran his finger parallel to the line, muttering:

“So which is the real screwdriver?”

“Didn’t this room used to be empty, save for three cabinets, four lamps, air, a doormat reading “Alive”, and a rug?” Twelve-Anne asked anyone.

Dawson blew across the table. He cast a handful of dust onto the drivers; but it landed the same on all of them. The false screwdrivers seemed to nearly perfect replicas. He took one in his hand. It felt real; but of course it would. He set it down. He did this for several more; when Twelve-Anne suggested that they just try each one until one proved to be a real screwdriver, and the roof fell. This was the case for the first.

The drywall collapsed on a “Huzzah!” saying Dawon Filter, who took Twelve-Anne by the wrist, and ran into the shuttle. She pushed the only button he had bothered to put in, and the craft took off on a pillar of fun. The duo discussed their plans for the future, their mutual fear of dying alone, and other such nonsense.

They only had eleven steps left now, they knew; eleven giant leaps for mankind. Please forgive me for the previous sentence.