As the curtain rose on the opening night

As the curtain rose on the opening night of "A Folded Story", Richard, watching from the wings, awaited his cue to burst in with a completely unexpected line. Suddenly, he was

upstaged by Rosa who lept onto the stage and improvised a completely different beginning to "A Folding Story" than was in the script when she

was promptly eaten by a hippo. The director rubbed his eyes. "A Folding Story" dress rehearsal was going the way of the Spiderman musical. "I need whiteout, Stat! Bring me that

bucket of paint, boy!" I brought it to him unaware that he was going to slosh it all over the monitor in a misguided attempt to create a fresh digital canvas. "Uh, I don't think

you know how MS Paint works," I said. But the boy didn't listen. He proceeded to give my computer screen a fresh coat of spray paint, which he carved into with a pencil.

So I sold the boy into white slavery. Which would not have been a problem but I had sold the boy unwittingly to his parents. When they got home they were pissed. They sued me

knew so little about futurist history that he did not recognize Zephram Cochrane's spirit haunting his class, but as it was a quiet study period, the specter was a bit distracting.

Ghosts! He muttered to himself. Celebrity Ghosts are no use in a study period, and very distracting to the children. This angered Zephram Cochrane so much that his ghost simply

engaged the warp drive on his shuttle, sending it careening into Earth at such a high pseudo-velocity that Africa was pulled through the resulting hole and now resided in China.