The year is 2033. The world is blanketed in chaos, as the war between man and machine heads toward a frighteningly close nuclear finale. Grown men cower with their women and children, hiding from the soulless creatures that move silently through the night. However, there is one who walks through the huddled masses, unafraid of the robot killers, instilling hope in all he meets. The world knows him as General “Gene” Snitsky, humanity’s last chance in The War To End All Wars. This is his story.
“I have a job to do.” The gruff yet monotone voice echoed throughout the warehouse basement. Unlike most basements, however, this one is made of 3,000 tons of stainless steel and titanium, contains a multitude of high-radiation areas, and has surveillance systems covering every centimeter within 4 miles of the building. Before the hard times hit, the building also had Guinness on tap. Now, only Pabst Blue Ribbon flows through the slowly corroding pipes, but this is not the time for drinking.
“Sir, you’ve established that. But I don’t see how traveling back in time to 2004 helps us in anyway. The machines will use their warheads anytime now, and the window for a preemptive strike is closing more with each passing hour. With all due respect, General, we need you here.” This type of insubordinate backtalk would normally be met by Snitsky’s stiff right hand, but Jeff Hardy was never afraid of taking risks. While not always the smoothest of performers, as Second-in-Command he knew the General better than anyone; one could argue that he existed simply to inspire him. Now around 60 years old, Hardy also knew the stakes were greater than ever, and that he had to ensure things ran smoothly and without error. Yes, at times the very fate of the world rested on Jeff Hardy not blowing spots.
General Snitsky paused for a moment and looked at Jeff’s face, the middle-aged man’s neon green streaks illuminating the near-darkness. Why was there a blacklight in the time machine room anyway? He turned around and put his hands on a nearby table, palms flat as he bowed his head and leaned like a runner unable to catch his breath after a sprint. A heavy sigh escaped his lips; he never thought that, at 28, he would have to explain to a middle-aged former pro wrestler why he was responsible for the downfall of the entire human race. Rubbing his chin, he gathered himself and faced his right-hand man. Yes, he did have a job to do. First the truth, then the sacrifice.
“Jeff, I’m…I’m not who you think I am. You see, you’ve known me for what, 10 years? And to you, I’ve always been General, I’ve always been Snitski. But I haven’t always worn this uniform and these tags…” He gripped the metal around his neck and stood entranced by the inscribed letters. Although it was only ten seconds, when he continued his voiced seemed ten years older. “These tags haven’t always said ‘Snitsky.’ They used to say…” He paused again, this time deliberately. He turned away again, closed his eyes, and lifted his head skyward.
“Jeff, my name used to be…” He swallowed, fighting to say the word. “Kane. I'm the son of the man who murdered your brother."
“I have a job to do.” The gruff yet monotone voice echoed throughout the warehouse basement. Unlike most basements, however, this one is made of 3,000 tons of stainless steel and titanium, contains a multitude of high-radiation areas, and has surveillance systems covering every centimeter within 4 miles of the building. Before the hard times hit, the building also had Guinness on tap. Now, only Pabst Blue Ribbon flows through the slowly corroding pipes, but this is not the time for drinking.
“Sir, you’ve established that. But I don’t see how traveling back in time to 2004 helps us in anyway. The machines will use their warheads anytime now, and the window for a preemptive strike is closing more with each passing hour. With all due respect, General, we need you here.” This type of insubordinate backtalk would normally be met by Snitsky’s stiff right hand, but Jeff Hardy was never afraid of taking risks. While not always the smoothest of performers, as Second-in-Command he knew the General better than anyone; one could argue that he existed simply to inspire him. Now around 60 years old, Hardy also knew the stakes were greater than ever, and that he had to ensure things ran smoothly and without error. Yes, at times the very fate of the world rested on Jeff Hardy not blowing spots.
General Snitsky paused for a moment and looked at Jeff’s face, the middle-aged man’s neon green streaks illuminating the near-darkness. Why was there a blacklight in the time machine room anyway? He turned around and put his hands on a nearby table, palms flat as he bowed his head and leaned like a runner unable to catch his breath after a sprint. A heavy sigh escaped his lips; he never thought that, at 28, he would have to explain to a middle-aged former pro wrestler why he was responsible for the downfall of the entire human race. Rubbing his chin, he gathered himself and faced his right-hand man. Yes, he did have a job to do. First the truth, then the sacrifice.
“Jeff, I’m…I’m not who you think I am. You see, you’ve known me for what, 10 years? And to you, I’ve always been General, I’ve always been Snitski. But I haven’t always worn this uniform and these tags…” He gripped the metal around his neck and stood entranced by the inscribed letters. Although it was only ten seconds, when he continued his voiced seemed ten years older. “These tags haven’t always said ‘Snitsky.’ They used to say…” He paused again, this time deliberately. He turned away again, closed his eyes, and lifted his head skyward.
“Jeff, my name used to be…” He swallowed, fighting to say the word. “Kane. I'm the son of the man who murdered your brother."
by gokujont @ Gamefaqs.com October 6, 2004
Get the Gene Snitsky: Time Traveler mug.The act of smashing a clock with a hammer and forcing the jagged debris into a small sock and covering it it lubricant and then violently fitting it in somones anus only to remove it after 48 hours
by echo419monty69 July 25, 2022
Get the The Time Traveler mug.Related Words
Time Traveler • The Time Traveler's Wife • turnabout time traveler • Facebook Time-Traveler • The Time Traveler • Gene Snitsky: Time Traveler • time traveller • I Traveled Through TIme BEcause,I , ANgel Josee RObles' Genitals Are Long<.7.9.7.6.> • <.7.9.7.6.>I Traveled Through TIme BEcause,I , ANgel Josee RObles' Genitals Are Long<.7.9.7.6.> • Time
(Noun, Verb, Adj)-A Facebook Time Traveler is a phrase used to describe an married or single individual who will take the liberty to stalk former classmates' walls in an effort to eventually pursue them. An influx of Facebook messages or a request for one's cell number is typically a standard operating procedure.
So, Jimmy is acting like a Facebook Time-Traveler ! I mean, what's up with the Love bombing??? He messaged me like 5 times asking me if I remembered our Biology class after study hall?? He also said that "I was the one that got away"? Wtf does this mean after all these years? It's kinda creepy. Ewe, he's married too! Oh boy, I may have to block him.
by Cappy C February 6, 2023
Get the Facebook Time-Traveler mug.Person 1: Man spirit of justice is so bad
Person 2: But it has turnabout time traveler!
Person 1: True! I love spirit of justice
Person 2: But it has turnabout time traveler!
Person 1: True! I love spirit of justice
by rat-kun July 27, 2024
Get the turnabout time traveler mug.by rat-kun July 27, 2024
Get the Turnabout Time Traveler mug.If you spot a man sporting a mullet, Gargoyle sunglasses and fluorescent-splattered muscle pants, you may have found someone who has time traveled from 1987. Approach with caution.
by swank5 October 26, 2004
Get the time traveller mug.