Enter The Debunker

It's high time this whole
Hitler-gunshot-cyanide suicide bunk
got debunked right the straight hell
out of the ostensible bunker
where it occurred. Oh, make no mistake

he was in there
that's where they found him. One look
at the mess and the chief inspector (a Brit
the lads all called "Shirley") said "This

is a little too neat. Too tidy. CLEAN IT UP!"

And they did. And so the case was closed, but

what nobody knows
and what I can't prove
is just what I'm trying

to tell to you.

I did it!

How, you ask? Brilliant question. One of the top five,
including such famously unanswerable others
as "Why?" Why, I invented a conceptual time
machine, of course! In record time, which
(of course) granted just one wish.

And it was this:

Go back to Hitler
find him in time
use the rays of the time wave to
turn him into a baby and KILL HIM
by AGING HIM INTO MIDDLE-AGE
with those very same time-rays! The overspill from the machine's
operation
of my just one wish, which
even way back then were already contracting

Again.

To snap me back to
where I'll be when I get there!

SEE YA! But not - just - yet

I had no time
to make it pretty. In fact
I was in sweats and a stained tee! Ack
du lieber, hand me a Luger or
better yet, lager.

Anyhow, no time for anything else, and
observing middle age didn't seem to be
killing the prick fast enough for my taste, spotting

a too-convenient, tell-tale cyanide pill
and HIS OWN LUGER, which I was even then
whipping - also conveniently! You have no idea
Out of my own jacket! Which

I guess I just told you I wasn't wearing one, but
quantum physics is the bomb. Trust me
sometimes stuff pops in and out - like I was about to myself!

Case in point.

I felt it, the one-time-familiar easy-peezy
queasy shimmer and clench closing in, my pocket
of swollen universe about to COLLAPSE,

- split - and disgorge the change!

I acted so fast fact preceded act, for once. There was
no precedent for what I chose to do (should've saved
the President arguably) Stuffed
that capsule of poison down our bully-boy's gullet!!
and shot him in the head, DELIBERATELY placing

his own Luger. Scrupulously not wiped clean, my prints
on file for all posterity, if anyone picked up on it
or cared to - what're
they gonna do?

Try me?

Try me. I did it. Where were you?

But where was I?

About to begone, task yet half-narrated!

Oh, that where was I. I was

"DELIBERATELY placing his OWN LUGER"
in the WRONG DAMN HAND (whichever one that was, I had to act
fast, no time for tricks and research, but I figured correctly
putting the wrong hand on the right gun could seal the deal - everyone
would be like, "This clown

couldn't even do THAT right")

and shot I him in the head,
three
times.

Wait.
By "this clown" etc., I meant
"This atrocious dickwardly back-ass whack wannabe Germanic
(Austriannic?) hero-mythos-slash comic book supervillain
trope-namer couldn't even kill himself right! He used
the wrong hand guys! Hahahahaha what a chump, look at this,"

oh my and so on.

I wasn't saying they'd be canny
and shrewd enough to spot my involvement,
yet so simultaneously DENSE as to peg ME as

"this clown"

who

"can't do anything right," unbelievably missing the obvious
subtlety of me making Hitler look like the screwup he famously
was anyhow! Hard to miss that one!

And then, job done, well

I collapsed into an overlapping of spacetime
like an infinite puppydog tongue

as was at that point in time, my wont.

And I was back!

Where I belonged.

Wearing a tuxedo.

Holding a sick-ass Walther PPK carved from a Doc
Mart's black boot polished bar of Irish Spring,
and whistling an eerie cross between the tune
from the ad, and a spy theme

that shall remain nameless, but
hauntingly familiar, you know?

All of this is set
to happen in like
ten minutes. I am losing my mind
trying to find where I left my tuxedo,
I haven't even dressed yet! I better hit
the shower, first too

jeez

You CANNOT
show up
to your one-and-only
surprise blind death-date with Hitler
STINKIN'.

It's not done.

So anyway.
Now you know. I left a lot out,
but we'll see how it goes. I really

haven't the time,
you understand.