After finally receiving a service manual for the janky time machine, I took it in into the shop in the closest available timeline. I left the friendly mechanic to top up the fluids and tighten the belts while I took a walk.

A passerby asked me if I had any alcohol wipes. I didn’t. It turns out his cat chewed the brain port cable that sends signals to his watch. He’s now stuck using the stock artificial intuition software on his not-so-smart-anymore device until he gets the cable replaced. The only place to do that here is the Apple Genius Ward at the hospital, and they’re closed now.