The Mother,
Stop calling my room a “quantum uncertainty state.” I’m a 55-year GROWN MAN scientist—I’ll clean when my equations are complete.
Time is merely a construct. And stop telling colleagues about my bedwetting—that ended at nine (except during solar flares).
Albert sweetie,
Your room is approaching relativistic chaos! Equations aren’t wallpaper. Stop telling teachers homework is “relative” and “time is an illusion.”
Your socks exist in multiple locations again. The cat experiments must stop—Mr. Schrödinger is anxious.
My esteemed colleague,
In strict confidence: while studying wireless energy, I observed something that violates relativity, with implications so profound and terrifying I’ve destroyed all evidence.
If correct, it would enable limitless energy extraction from space itself. Some discoveries are better left unpursued. I trust your absolute discretion in this matter.