Three very bored old men want something to do. Destroying the Earth was not on the list.
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When three bored old men living in New Los angeles search for something to do, discovering a time machine in the ruins of the old city was a surprising twist to their expectations.
What could go wrong? Take a trip somewhere - or more precisely, some when. Return home and talk about it for the rest of their artificially enhanced lives.
Destorying the Earth and allowing a mad Nazi scintist to create another world which he ruled was the last thought any of them would have classed as fun. That the man had not included them or their survival in his plans just made the whole thing that much trickier.
Cast into a new barren world, they must find a way of returning home and preventing nueclear Armageddon before it's too late.
Transforming two hundred retired gentlefolk into silent assassins had been no easy task.
It was probably the gay male stripper who’d tipped the balance.
After years of gentle and, sometimes, not so gentle taunts and practical jokes, the man’s exuberant entry into the common room accompanied by the ear-splitting howl of a camp pop song had finally done the trick. The pure revulsion on their sanctimonious faces as he’d minced, nipples rouged, thong bursting, had been a pure joy to watch and easily compensated for his exorbitant fee. And by the time the paramedics had sedated everyone, the dust had more or less settled so it wasn’t as if any serious damage had been done. Even the stripper would walk again – eventually.