text: You've been studying time travel half your life You've discovered the key Messing about with some wires and FLASH You're 6 months in the future and you're sitting in the bath It smells like lavender essence and head and shoulders conditioner and you're warm But a noise is building outside. A buzzing, angry swarm And it's you they're after “Ya dirty bastard, she's just an old woman and she's screamin and greetin and it's aw your fault” “Get out here and show yerself” is the furious call But you just turn up Now 47 7 Days, Craig David, track number 11. Apparently you start enjoying Craig David in 6 months time. I suppose that's fine 7 days. 6 months. Oh aye that's right. I've leaped to the future. Jesus christ I need to get back But the noise is building from outside. The crowd are raging so you quickly get dried You pause Craig David just as he's taking her for a drink on Tuesday. Probably steak club, wetherspoons. That's on a Tuesday You open the window and hope this goes smoothly Here calm down yous! What have I done!? “Don't kid yourself arsehole, we all saw you run Look the state of her chin the poor auld dear We're all gonnae leather you noo c’mere” You've never seen this woman before in your life, but she's sitting there, crimson chinned, bawling for her life But what did I do to her? You plead your case The rabble reply “shoved a hoat pie in her face” And to be fair it does look like she's a had a hoat pie shoved in her face BANG You're back in the present Jesus Christ you just travelled through time! But why did you shove a hoat pie into that auld woman's face? What string of events caused this crime to take place? As hours turn to days and days turn to weeks You try recreating that first quantum leap But your key to time travel is gone. It's no longer working Fuck A fluke. A one off. You've lost the magic Your time travel experience was fleeting and tragic So you get on with life as it was before. Weeks turn to one month and then a few more And as time passes slowly you think 'im almost there, it must almost be six months’ And it is And you start to think 'oh god, it'll be happening soon I'll turn auld wummins chin into arse of baboon Through application of hot mince and thick pastry crust I'll scald her with juice, turn her chin in to mush Poor wee wummin Every day you start to worry about it And soon it's time You're on your lunch break and you're standing in line Part of you already knows you're going to buy a pie And just at that moment auld wummin walks by Is it that wummin? Maybe. Can't be sure But she's caught sight of yum yums and she's coming through the door This is it. Fucking hell. She looks so nice as well. Just a poor wee old lady about to face scotch pie hell Naw wait, this is mental, I cannae do this. I have the choice and I think I'll give it a miss But if I don't pie the granny then that surely means, that time travel didn't happen But it did. I know it did. Without even thinking I ask for the pie.