Tim sat on his bed and sighed. Then he looked at his favorite toaster, and sighed again.

It didn't work the first fifty-three times he tried it, but a fifty-fourth couldn't make things any worse.

He reflected on his lot in life. Was he always a pale imitation of Egon, from the very start?

As a friend to science, Egon was someone who mattered. Everyone else is satisfied with pouring drugs into their brains and squandering their wondrous potential, but not Egon. He kicked reason to the curb and made the impossible, possible.

But Tim was no Egon. He didn't even know how electricity or magnets worked. Something to do with the indefinite field? Maso energy?? The t-virus???

Argh, if only Tim had a tinker power. Then he wouldn't be such a poser dumbass.

He didn't want to try something this extreme this early, but strange summer only came around so often. And once it's gone, it's gone. One never attained greatness by being timid and never taking any risks. Egon knew the way.

So Tim jammed a fork into the toaster and plugged it in. And chanted his mantra of cope and hope: "Tinker power! Tinker power! Tinker power!"

You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

While he expected to be violently electrocuted, what happened instead was the fork got a little hot, before popping out of the toaster. Tim.... was hella lame.

There was just something off with this kid. He often intended extreme self harm with these 'experiments', and yet never did anything that could do any self harm, even theoretically. This really wasn't how the scientific method worked. Egon would shake his head and be very disappointed with this boy.

Tim's mother knocked one time and came inside with a tray of sandwiches and lemonade.

"Ah, didn't work again, huh?"

"Yeah... I think I need contorque the discombobulator a few degrees more to centigrade." Tim made up a bunch of nonsense words. But unlike smart people who had to invent new words and jargon to explain new concepts, Tim was just a dumbass who didn't know what he was talking about.

"I'm sure you'll get it next time, sweetie. Here's your sandwiches, and you be careful now."

Tim rolled his eyes. "I will, mom."

The sandwiches were cut into small bite-sized squares, so as to not present a choking hazard. The crust had also been cut away so as to not present a cutting hazard.

Just the way Tim liked it.