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} Nephew of Bumpfritz
}
} While your uncle was a bit of a wag in his younger days, he never quite
} understood the behind-the-scenes world of the Oracle. I was not a baby
} Oracle when Bummer (as the priests used to call him) was sending his
} inquiries. The electronic portal to me was a baby, so to speak. I, the
} actual Oracle, have existed for quite a bit longer. Not since the VERY
} beginning, some 394 big bangs ago ... that was when my dear old mom was
} "born". No, I came to be after the 52nd big bang, when the universes
} were getting boring and repetitive, and my mom craved a bit of a
} change. Sure, she had 51 universes where she was the Oracle that
} intelligent species figured out how to contact, and she had a bit of
} fun sending them off on wild graxenchomper chases (those failed to
} develop in universe 314, came back in universe 383, and failed again in
} 393, which is good for you humans since graxenchompers live up to their
} names when the intelligent species isn't born with steel plate armor).
} But email only gets you so far.
}
} So, in universe 52, some 13+ billion years after that big bang, she
} "gave birth" to me, ostensibly to have some company. However, no sooner
} did my mental matrix form from pure positronic energy that she caught
} the Intertemoral Express to a different dimension, leaving me with
} nothing but a VT-100 and a note explaining that she would be back with
} a gallon of milk and a pack of camels. I suspect the dimension she went
} to had graxenchompers, which ate all the camels, so she's still
} looking.
}
} Anyway, fast-forward 342 big bangs, and some yahoo named Kinzler thinks
} he created me. I was getting all ready to ZOT him, but got distracted
} by the '51 Buick, which, as universes go, was not half bad. So I let
} Kinzler think he made something new, and now here YOU are asking how to
} live forever.
}
} Buddy, I ain't lived for no forevers yet, but unless the next universe
} gets some graxenchompers, I'm about ready to call it quits!
}
} No ... no ... I didn't mean that. Deep breath. Count to Grahams number.
} Backwards. Whew. I can do this.
}
} OK, you want to live forever. The good news is you don't need broccoli
} with anything.
}
} No, all you need to do is be ... the Oracle. Which is not as hard as it
} sounds. What you DO need is Steve's garage. You'll have to move the
} Buick (GENTLE now...), shove that stack of tires out of the way, move
} those boxes of vintage Playboys (might be worth something on ebay, by
} the way), and fight you way through a bunch of gardening implements to
} get to the old PC sitting in the SW corner. Don't bother trying to boot
} it, it stopped actually functioning long ago. But follow its power cord
} to the electrical outlet. That's the portal.
}
} Now, while standing barefoot on the garage floor, grasp the metal shaft
} of a screwdriver in your hand (not the insulated handle), pull the PC
} plug, and insert the blade of a screwdriver into the socket. You will
} be transported here. To my side.
}
} Don't worry, the priests will have plenty of aloe to treat your
} third-degree burns on your hand. You'll be fine. And you'll live
} forever.
}
} I, on the other hand, will step out just for a sec to see where the
} heck my mom went.
}
} NOTE: no other electrical outlet in this arm of the Milky Way galaxy
} will do this. Do not try this at home; you'll get the third degree
} burns, you but won't get here. It needs to be Kinzler's garage. I
} really hope I didn't have to say that, but, you know, humans and all...
}
} You owe the Oracle the 1.44 backup disk.
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![[IO]](https://kinzler.com/picons/db/domains/org/internetoracle/unknown/face.gif){kind=small}
