the+page+of+will,+chapter+2

**Chapter 2**
 * ALRIGHT, I THINK WE CLEARED THAT UP. SINCE THE MISSILE ALREADY HIT, WE HAD TO PULL SOME SORT OF HYPERSPACE-WARP SPEED-WORMHOLE-TIME PARADOX GARBAGE TO TRAP YOU IN THE 20 MINUTES BEFORE THE EXPLOSION. ITS KIND OF SATISFYING TO THINK THAT IF WE DON'T SUCK YOU OUT OF IT, YOU'LL BE DOOMED TO LIVE OUT THE REST OF YOUR ALREADY PIDDLY LIFE IN THE SPAN OF 20 MINUTES. DON'T GET ALARMED NOW. FOR YOU IT WOULD JUST SEEM LIKE MANY, MANY YEARS OF RELIVING THE SAME 20 MINUTES OVER AND OVER AGAIN. SPECIFICALLY, THE 20 MINUTES WHEN YOU READ THIS. WE'LL JUST KEEP YOU HERE UNTIL WE EITHER FIX THE TELEPORTER PROBLEM OR DECIDE THAT IT'S NOT WORTH THE TROUBLE, END THE 20 MINUTES, AND LET YOU DIE. IN THE MEANTIME, I SUGGEST YOU FIND SOME STIMULATING THINGS TO DO IN THE NEXT 20 MINUTES, BECAUSE YOU'LL BE REDOING THEM FOR THE NEXT 20 YEARS, WHICH, I'M TOLD, YOUR PRIMITIVE SPECIES CONSIDERS A LONG TIME FOR SOME REASON. **

[you proceed to get some fresh air, play an exhilerating game of mancala with yourself, use a third-rate image editing software to make some extremely bad clip-art, and crack open A Brief History of Time for the first time in your life. However, before you can get past the first sentence, you are inturrupted by a new edit coming in on the wiki.]

[Over the next 20 years, you reach new heights of boredom. The clip-art seems worse and worse (previously considered an impossibility) as you relive yourself making it over and over again. The mancala game doesn't seem all that exhilarating anymore, and the second sentence of A Brief History of Time continues to tantalize you. As your thoughts gradually become more and more removed from the actions you appear doomed to repeat, you begin to wonder if your body will still obey the commands of your mind after the 20 minutes finally repeat for the last time. You suppose it doesn't matter, if you're going to spend the rest of your life in cryostasis on a different planet. However, you can still cling to the desperate hope that after they teleport you aboard you will still have some means of escape. To further this mad dream, you devise strange machinations in the darkest corner of your mind, awaiting the day when they will be put to use. And then the day comes. You suddenly notice that the normal communication at the end of the 20 minutes is followed by another message. You also notice that the missile you have become accustomed to seeing hurtling through the air above your house is looming dangerously closer.]
 * ALRIGHT, I HAVE TIME FOR ONE MORE COMMUNICATION BEFORE YOU ARE TRAPPED IN AN INFINITE REPITITION LOOP WITH WHICH I CANNOT INTERVENE. WE CALCULATED THE EXACT PROFIT MARGIN OF THE PLANNED HUMAN EXHIBIT, AND DECIDED THAT IT WOULD BE WORTH THE EFFORT TO REPAIR THE TELEPORTER AND SAVE YOU. AT LEAST, UNTIL WE SAW THAT CLIP-ART YOU JUST MADE, WHICH CONVINCED US THAT YOUR CIVILIZATION IS NOT WORTH SAVING, AFTER ALL. HOWEVER, LUCKILY FOR YOU, WE HAVE A NOVICE PILOT ABOARD WHO WANTS TO TRY HIS HAND AT CRYOGENICS, SO WE'RE STILL PRESERVING YOU, BUT ONLY AS A SUPPLEMENT TO THE SPECIMENS ALREADY PRESERVED IN THE NATIONAL ARCHIVE OF YZXDGL ON THE TPRKTV-DELTA-MINOR COLONY. IT WILL BE EXACTLY LIKE THE CRGLDNK JOB, BUT WITHOUT THE 50-YEAR REVIVALS. YOU CAN EXPECT TO TELEPORTED OUT IN WHAT YOU WILL PERCIEVE AS 20 YEARS OF THE EXACT SAME 20 MINUTES OVER AND OVER AGAIN. **