INT. SCIENCE LAB – DAY? MAYBE? TIME IS UNCLEAR. A broken clock reads 13:72. CUNK stares at it. COX is nearby, inspecting equipment. CUNK: 13:72. That must mean something, innit? COX: No, it's just the time on the clock. And it looks all wrong. CUNK: Maybe if we look at it in the mirror, something might happen? COX: Like, what might happen? CUNK: I don't know, depends on how drunk you are when you stare at it. Last week I was looking at this bright digital watch late in the night, and after a while it started talking to me. COX: No, that was just the alarm going off. CUNK: Well, it said "WAKE UP", but in a very aggressive way. Like it knew something. COX: Yes. It knew the time. CUNK: Exactly! And now this clock’s stuck at thirteen seventy-two. That’s not even a time. That’s… a postcode. COX: Or a cry for help. Possibly from whoever built this. It’s not electric, it’s quantum. CUNK: Quantum? Like when you look at something and it disappears because it’s shy? COX: Not quite. In quantum physics, observation affects the system. CUNK: That’s what I said. I once saw a yoghurt pot change flavours because I was looking at it too hard. COX: I don't think that's the same thing as what I said. But do you notice something about the clock: If it is stuck at 13:72, which is exactly 72 minutes past 1 PM, which is another way of saying that the time is 2:12 PM. CUNK: That is exactly the time on my watch, in fact it has been that way for a while now. Maybe I need to buy new batteries for my watch, do you have a quantum battery by chance in your pocket? COX: There is no such thing yet, as a quantum battery. But as usual you have solved it through your rambling. It seems that it is not the time on the clock that is stuck; but it is actually us that are stuck in time. CUNK: So when can we get out of here? Because I have a sandwich that is already a day old in my pocket. COX: If we're stuck in time, then causality itself has broken down. That would explain why my tea has been lukewarm for the past 45 minutes. CUNK: And why this cheese and pickle sandwich still smells slightly edible. Time is standing still, but not quite enough to save lunch. COX: That means this room is caught in a localized temporal loop. Something in here is anchoring us. A device, an anomaly… or— CUNK: —could it be the smell? I once got stuck in a lift for two hours because someone had microwaved fish in it. COX: No… wait. That’s it. The clock. It’s not showing the time, it’s showing the code. CUNK: Like the Da Vinci Code? COX: 13:72 isn’t time. It’s coordinates. 13 degrees latitude… 72 degrees longitude. That points to— CUNK: The sandwich? COX: (pointing behind the clock) No—the device hidden behind the clock. (COX removes the clock to reveal a glowing device.) CUNK: That’s a bomb. Isn’t it? COX: Worse. It’s a prototype temporal stabilizer… built backwards. It’s not meant to freeze time. It’s meant to unfreeze it— CUNK: Like a microwave for history. COX: (sighs) Exactly. We just need to switch it off. (He flicks a switch. The lights flicker. A loud ding is heard.) CUNK: My sandwich just expired. COX: Well, Cunk, we have saved the day. Or the week, or the year, depending on how long it has been that we were stuck here. CUNK: Oh, that's great... now all my friends are going to think I am rude for not calling them back. I mean, I don't want to call them back anyways, but not because I got stuck in the temporal microwave. COX: Do all your references have to do with food all the time? CUNK: No, sometimes I like to mix it with phallic humour. Or both. Whatever tickles the pickle. NARRATOR (V.O.): Thus ended (or began, depending on the reader's time coordinates and direction): The Case of the Temporal Sandwich. Up next, Cunk and Cox will be solving an actual mystery. Apart from whoever thought this was a good idea for a series.