Summary

The article outlines a whimsical and elaborate plan to use a time machine to alter the past for financial gain.

Abstract

The narrative, presented as a set of instructions, details a hypothetical method for acquiring a large sum of money through time travel. The author suggests finding a sister's hidden time machine, studying its manual, and preparing for a journey to the past. The goal is to intercept a father's possession, specifically an Apple stock certificate, before a pivotal moment in time, to then return to the present and cash in on the asset. The steps include practical advice on preparing for the journey, such as packing essentials and a book for entertainment during the wait. The author also emphasizes the importance of setting the time machine correctly and ensuring a safe return to the present. The tone is one of urgency and caution, with a underlying sense of regret and a desire for redemption and financial success.

Opinions

The author believes that the time machine, though not glamorous, is a viable tool for altering one's financial destiny.
There is a sense of distrust in the reliability of online resources, particularly when it comes to finding the correct instruction manual for the time machine.
The author seems to have a personal connection to the past, particularly with the memory of their father, which is a driving force behind the plan.
The narrative suggests that the author has either attempted this plan before or is speaking from a place of deep contemplation and research.
There is an underlying theme of escapism, as the author contemplates completely starting over with a new identity and life, free from past burdens.
The author conveys a sense of desperation, indicated by the suggestion to potentially destroy the garage as a means to cover one's tracks and start anew.

Fiction

Six Guaranteed Steps to Make One Million Dollars Today

All you need is a match and some lighter fluid

I figure I should write it down. Every step. Before I forget.

It’s already getting late.

So:

Step One.

Find your sister’s time machine. It’s either under her bed or stashed in the back of the top shelf of her closet. Behind her old American Girl dolls. She figures you forgot about it, that you don’t think about it every single minute of every single day. So she’s gotten careless. And really, she knows you’re too lazy and too scared to use it without the instruction manual.

Step Two.

Google the instruction manual. It might still be on the Black & Decker site, but probably cached. It definitely won’t be live. I don’t even know when they discontinued making them, but there should still be a trace of it out there somewhere.

IMPORTANT: The Makita has a very similar name but it is NOT THE SAME. Do not use that instruction manual. You will end up in that void they always talk about. Trust me on this one.

VARIATION: If you can’t find the manual, because your sister burned it and somehow managed to eliminate all traces of it even from the Dark Web, don’t despair. The controls are largely intuitive, but you won’t be able to finesse the destination coordinates without knowing the specific steps. So just take your best guess. With the Black & Decker there’s almost no chance you’ll end up in the void. You just may have to live in the timeline an extra month or two.

Step Three.

Pack a jacket and a lot of granola bars just in case you end up arriving too early and have to spend an extra month or two in the new timeline. It can get cold. And you’ll have to lay low until you hit the exact right time so give yourself a way to avoid having to scrounge for food. Also, maybe don’t eat much for a few weeks before you go so you’re used to skipping meals. I know this doesn’t sound important right now but trust me on this.

Oh and pack a book. A real, actual book. Something fat like Moby Dick or one of those endless Russian deals so you won’t go stir crazy while you’re tucked under a bridge for weeks, waiting for the right time. Waiting. Always waiting.

Maybe bring a second book if you’ve got room.

Step Four.

The time machine will be a lot smaller than you expect. The movies always show it as a big container or a fancy flying chair, something you get into, but it’s more like a field generator so it’s kind of dumb looking, not much different than that benchtop planer your dad kept in the garage. It was red and you liked the look of it. And you never did see him use it or any of those tools out there. And they were so dusty and corroded you wondered if he’d ever touched them at all. But still, you liked to be around them because they made you think about him, imagine what he might build for you if he was around. Maybe he’d build you a time machine. Maybe it would look something exactly like this.

Think about your dad while you set the controls to February 8, 1997. 7:30 am. Thirty minutes before he left the house.

Step Five.

Carry the time machine out to the garage. Put it on the tool bench. You might have to knock stuff off of the bench to make a clear area, but don’t worry about it because when you get back you’ll be a million bucks richer and you can hire somebody to clean it up for you. Maybe you’ll just pay someone to haul it all away, toss it in the dump while you start over from scratch. Hell, maybe you should just light the whole place on fire before you go so when you return you can bulldoze the embers and build your own mansion. Or maybe you can just spit on the ashes and walk away with your million dollars free and clear. You can start all over again and this time you can name yourself whatever you want like Jack Strake or Bret Stonecastle. Something with gravitas. Something everyone will respect.

Get ready to initiate the field generation sequence. Double check your settings. If you don’t have the manual, just know that the green light means go time.

Step Six.

Push the button. But don’t forget your backpack this time, make sure you have your backpack. It’s got everything in it. And when you arrive, lay low until your dad walks out that door and you can stop him before he gets in the car, tell him you’re sorry and that you know it was all your fault and that it all went wrong after he left and he’ll understand and maybe he’ll even hug you and that’s when you reach in and grab that Apple stock certificate out of his pocket and it doesn’t even matter if he feels you lifting it because his name is your name and you can cash it in the second you get back home, just take it to a brokerage, they won’t ask questions, they’ll just cut you a check.

Shove that certificate in your backpack and run, run back to the origination site — did I mention the origination site? It has to be the exact same spot as where you left the machine and if you set it right you’ll get pulled back in the automatic recall mode — did I mention about setting automatic recall mode? It’s already getting fuzzy.

I tell you what, it will all be simpler if you just make sure to light it all on fire before you go. Maybe you can even set a timer or something to make the fire start the second you initiate the field generation sequence. Or maybe you can just light some of those rags on fire. Maybe douse the whole place with gasoline first. Light it up, watch the flames, then calmly walk to the bench. Wait for the heat. Wait for it to almost burn you before hitting the button. Then hit the button. Keep hitting it. It’s bound to work eventually. There’s got to be an escape. There’s just got to. Even if it’s to the void. Just keep pushing the button.