Fearing for his butthole, Aaron tied his toga tight about him. You never knew when these Romans would ask you to reach down for the soap in the showers, especially at the baths. And the senators were the worst of them, making sport with his behind like it was a butter churn. Why hadn’t they yet discovered private bathrooms in the home?
Cassius and Brutus stood in conference around the Corinthian column with 8 other men – must be senators, Aaron presumed. “Give me that lean and hungry man,” Aaron remembered from his Shakespeare class. But Cassius didn’t look all that lean, not by Gold’s Gym 2012 standards. He looked like he consumed a bit too much in the carbs department. Love handles and soft shoulders made a mockery of his narrow, beady eyes.
But Brutus, now there was one serious piece of man meat. Aaron loved his Roman nose, just like that porn star he’d met at the Eagle in San Francisco ’86. And he had a really narrow waist and flat stomach. Yummy city. When he turned on the gay thing, Aaron could really go for Brutus.
He loosened his belt a little and walked in front of them. “Hark! Who goes there?” asked Brutus.
So Shakespeare was right! They really do talk in that ridiculous, formal way.
“It is I, Lord Aardvark of the Time Machine, come to provide service for the honorable Senator Brutus.”
And just as he was about to bend over for the soap (okay, a stupid metaphor, Aaron had to admit) – the time machine sputtered. Aaron landed in the hovel of Madame de Farge and her knitting needles.
“Damn, and for once I might’ve enjoyed myself.”
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