I was struck with inspiration today... or was that perspiration

First of all, this song I'm listening to sounds exactly like it's from a SNES rpg, possibly a Final Fantasy or something of equal quality. It's not though. I would know. This song is highly enjoyable.

Also, I came up with some stuff today. One amusing and stupid, the other epic... and probably stupid. Let's do the short one first.

Attention Shoppers

Mary in dairy
please be wary
you have a call from Larry
the hairy fairy
do not tarry
this message will not vary

The other thing is mostly for skunkbite, but as always any critiques/comments are awesome and appreciated, good or bad. I was struck with some major inspiration for Ozwald, our comic book project and I re-wrote the first chapter.

THE AMAZING ADVENTURES OF

OZWALD

FUTURE BOY

[chapter one]

        I am a ten year old boy. At least, I'm pretty sure I am. I've been on my own for so long, it's hard to keep track. I don't even remember my last birthday. Oh, I have parents. They see that my every need and want is fulfilled and then some. That is, their expensive mechanical maids do. Along with the expensive tutor hologram, the expensive food materializer which spits out expensive nutritious food, the expensive virtual game machines, the expensive media room. My parents are far too busy securing more sociological trinkets from history, archeological trophies from the future, testaments to their amazing life as explorers to pay much attention to the accidental souvenir of their love in the present. I am orphaned by the lure of infinity.
        I am a thirty-two year old man. At least, I think I am. Living outside of time, sorta lose track. Am I thirty-two? One-hundred-thirty-two? Who knows. Can't really concentrate on numbers and stuff anyways. Or anything really. Just running. It's all I do, all I know. All I remember ever doing. Time travel is governed by a very strict set of laws. Broken all of them. Smashed em to utter hell. Except one. The penalty? You just flat out stop existing. That is, if you're caught, if they catch you. Thirty-two. Hundred-thirty-two. Haven't been caught yet.
        I am watching a program on the box about dinosaurs. It's one of those temporally photographed documentaries, shot using a technique my parents pioneered. They're very popular with the lower class and kids who aren't old enough to get their Temporal Pilot's License. A small coelophysis appears on the screen, feeding on some fish it has just caught. The voice over gives details of the creature. It's size can range anywhere from one to three meters long, and generally about a meter high at the hip. It hunts in packs. In times of scarcity, it has been known to resort to cannibalism. It is seen here eating fish, but it prefers to feed on eggs of other species. The voice over is wrong about that one. My coelophysis loves fish more than anything. Maybe I should go visit him, I haven't seen him in a month or so. Last time I saw him was when I was down there fixing the basement systems and the android... oh no... I jump up and launch into a sprint.
        I am nearly amputated and cauterized by the Chronology Adjustment Agents' Portable Temporal Arrangement Equalizer. The Chronocops' time laser for short. The fascists' fuck-you gun for shorter. I jump the crevice and duck behind a rock and fire back some fuck-you-too-asshole. Hit one, vaporizing him out of time-sync, sent back to the hell that spawned him. Hell sends three more in his place. They sync in, exchanging places with air molecules and insects from... wherever the hell I am. Eyeball the surroundings, things seem to make sense. Throw a rock. Physics seem to be intact. No giant super intelligent ladybugs or polka-dot skies or walking trees. I must be in one of the currently approved temporal travel zones. The only landmarks I can discover: the intense heat and... is that a dinosaur? Yeah, and there's some damned time tourists, snapping pictures. The Chronoshits stop firing, hear em preparing for a rush.
        I am in so much trouble. Spot, my little dinosaur, is dead. When my mom and dad get back from their trip to pre-colonial Pluto I am going to be so grounded. They will be so furious. As adult as I pretend to be, right now I am merely ten years old. I couldn't be more ten years old. I freak out. No, no they can't see this. What am I going to do? How do I fix this? Dad was working on an antique time shuttle before they left, getting it prepared for a museum somewhere. I'm sure I could figure out how it works. Even though I don't have my license, I knew how to pilot them years ago. Sure, this is simple. I'll just go back a month ago... no, I might see myself, and I should break as few temporal laws as I can, otherwise I will definitely show up on the CAA scanner. I'll go back to the prehistoric and get myself a brand new coelophysis. They all look the same anyways, I'm sure my parents won't know the difference. Plus, that time-space is currently an approved travel zone. I can log it as a standard leisure trip. I jump in the pod, hastily enter coordinates, submit the log just like I have seen Mom and Dad do a billion times. I wait for travel authorization from Temporal Headquarters. Something has happened, I think, it shouldn't take this long. Was there a chronoquake? Did time just hiccup? Are they on to me?! Then... approval! I punch the ignition. Zap!
        I am being shot at on all sides. No room to move, no room to breathe. Time to make some room. Shoulder up to my cover, the rock. Won't budge. Blast away at the base, try again. They're closing in. The rock breaks free. It slams into their temporal ghosts as they sync-out just in time with their fancy all purpose chronobelts. I mash some buttons on my own broken one, masking my coordinates. Should buy me some time. Look up, see the rock still rolling. Falls down the crevice I jumped earlier. No consequence, I think, whatever it lands on won't be the first or the last piece of time I have fucked out of equilibrium. Just out of curiosity though, I follow it to the edge.
        I am shocked at what I see. A very large boulder falling down toward my shuttle. I jump out as quickly as my pudgy unathletic body will allow, just in time to see the pod get smashed to pieces. I look up and see a man peering over the ledge.
        I am looking down at the damage. Damn, it looks like I smashed somebody's shuttle. No big, I think, I'm sure they can hitch a ride from some other fat tourist. There's a kid there, but I don't see anybody else. Hey kid! I yell. Where the hell's your parents? Then I realize... I have now broken every single Temporal Law. Smashed to utter hell.
        I am staring at myself.
        I am not sure how I know. I don't remember a childhood. I don't remember ever being old. I think, can you read my mind? How do you know it's me? You know the answer to that. You are the most familiar thing in the world, reaching through time, touching a hidden part of me that I forgot and have not yet discovered.
        I am Ozwald, future boy. Trapped in forever, alone with myself. These are my amazing adventures.