The Time Machine
I was impressed by his resourcefulness, his quaint clothes, and his steam-powered time machine, but I simply didn't have time to serve as his inter-temporal ambassador. I concluded my remarks so I could get back to work.
"Some things are far worse and some things are far better. You shouldn't idolize the future any more than I should idolize the past."
The Victorian's lips tightened in contained frustration. "Praytell, in what ways is the future worse? When I return home, I will have an opportunity, and I wish to address specifics."
"I don't know, Jules. Tons of ways. Obesity is rampant. Childhoods are unproductive. Art is weird..."
This remark cracked his British restraint. "Art?"
"Yes. It all started getting worse in the early 20th century. Many blame this famous Austrian artist, Adolf Hitsomething. You could help by making sure he doesn't get into art school."
Jules doffed his ridiculous hat and disappeared in a puff of steam.
When I returned to my cubicle, I browsed Wikipedia and discovered that the world had been changed.
To my horror, art was even worse.
This is art-rageous.