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with eccentric scientists and their implausible inventions. Dorsitt had every faith that his destiny was to join that pantheon, so when he stumbled upon an actual time machine, having taken a succession of wrong turns that led him ever deeper into the cellars of the British Museum (where he typically took his luncheon), he naturally believed that the discovery was a result of his own genius, rather than a stroke of pure luck.
Dorsitt zipped through the fourth dimension, collecting relics of the past and future. His business plan was simple: people from the past wanted gumpf from the future; people from the future wanted tat from the past. The problem here though was that Dorsitt’s greed far outweighed his business acumen, and mathematics had never been his strong suit at Knowhope Secondary Modern. While he usually picked the right stuﬀ to sell, the time machine wasn’t cheap to run and he invariably spent far more in travel expenses than he made in sales. Soon, he was all but penniless.
So, although it was luck and not inspiration that gave Dorsitt his big break, he rationalised that Good Fortune Imagine the look on greedy Mr D’s face then, when he was the silent partner without whom Dedication and received a colossal order from the President of the Hard Work would never ﬁnd their names on a patent apUnited States of the United Kingdom and America plication. Thus, citing the ancient law of ﬁnders, keep(USUKA) in the year 2212. Following the coalition of ers, he happily credited himself for having “discovered” these two great Western powers, water transport had time travel. If the actual inventor was just going to leave become all the rage. While it was obviously quicker to such a valuable thing lying under a dusty tarpaulin deep ﬂy -- or even teleport if one could aﬀord it -- across the in some underground recess where anyPond, people were increasingly seeking one could stumble across it, he didn’t de- Dorsitt zipped quaint, Olde Worlde methods of making serve the credit anyway. H.G. Wells and the voyage between the US and the UK a through the fourth little more interesting. Yes, as ever, retro Marty McFly, eat your heart out! That was Dorsitt’s favourite catchphrase, in dimension, collecting was cool. fact, which he boasted loudly to every relics of the past bewildered soul he had the pleasure of To mark the bicentenary of the epic dealing with as he sped through the ages, Olympic Games of 2012, Dorsitt was and future picking up trinkets along the way. commissioned by the President of USUKA to collect relics from the seaside resort which had held Ah yes, the trinkets. You see, having concluded that the the sailing events. Boats were out of the question; the ﬂabby physique and fallen arches which had disqualiﬁed time machine simply wasn’t big enough to haul them him from most physical endeavours must also be interthrough the ages. Trinkets though, Dorsitt’s speciality, fering with his intellectual pursuits, Dorsitt decided his were two-a-penny in every tourist town. He knew just calling must be more entrepreneurial by nature. He the stuﬀ. He was promised hugely inﬂated prices if he wasn’t going to use his time travel gizmo for scientiﬁc could deliver on time, and upon a chubby, sweaty palm discovery, oh no! Proﬁt was Dorsitt’s mantra. Proﬁt, the deal was struck. proﬁt, proﬁt, and he stuck by this come rain or recession. Dorsitt set about researching Weymouth & Portland, the small picturesque resort that was the backdrop to Team USA and Team GB’s record hauls of sailing gold medals. It had been such a long time since he’d dropped by the twenty-ﬁrst century that he needed a refresher course. What did people do in the midst of a recession, when they could barely get to the end of the street without getting tangled up in roadworks? What Dorsitt needed, to please the President and collect his fat cheque, was to capture the mood of Weymouth in 2012. Taking up residence in an empty shopping space on the ﬁrst ﬂoor of the Colwell Shopping Centre, Dorsitt set about creating his masterpiece: The Great Vacation Exhibition. His theme was, like his business plan, simple. Weymouth was a busy tourist town, full of life, with a population that would swell like the underbelly of a toad
in the summer, then hibernate like one in the winter. And what did a tourist town sell at the height of tourist season? Tourist tat.
excitement. He was met with quite a shock.
Not only had the paint run, churning literally minutes of careful brushwork into a garish mess, He was pretty sure the but also all of the trinkets were broDorsitt sat in his workshop in a jolly mood, hunched over a notepad where ken. Sailor ﬁgurines were missing rope wasn’t needed, he planned his raid of the Weymouth their heads; ships had no masts; seagshops, aiming to empty their contents anyway; the boat it had ulls had no wings. Mr D’s cheap imitaand what remained of his bank account. tions were exposed for what they It was then that he suﬀered a major set- been attached to sailed really were, and he for what he really back. A letter arrived from his garage: away without it shortly was: a charlatan after a quick buck. all was not well with the time machine. In fact, it had conked out completely And thus the story ends; that was the after he untied it and failed its MOT. Just what he last that was ever heard of our hapless needed, another expense when he trying to fulﬁl the hero. While great advances had been made in computer order of the century! technology, communications and space travel in two hundred years, the human race was still a somewhat Now Dorsitt truly was penniless. What’s more, even if primitive, bloodthirsty bunch when it came to punishhe did have the money there was no proﬁt in this tourist ment. Rumour has it that the electric chair was experitat anyway. The town was heaving, the Olympics encing something of a renaissance. brought visitors from far and wide and sneaky shopkeepers had hiked their prices to scandalous levels. Where Dorsitt’s legacy lives on, his prototypes scattered was Dorsitt’s proﬁt going to come from now? around the town imitating the life of the twentyThis major hitch, coupled with the repairs on his time machine, left Dorsitt feeling a lot less jolly. And then it struck him. Why spend out on the genuine articles at all? How would those daft futureheads tell the diﬀerence between a real twenty-ﬁrst century relic and a cheap replica? Oh, this was his best, most cunning scheme since the time machine itself! Only it turned out not to be such a smart plan after all. Putting his arts & crafts skills to use, Dorsitt gathered together the cheapest materials to hand -- ‘free’ materials, in fact. He pilfered cement from a building site, stole a bucket of plaster from a skip and found some old rope at the harbour. He was pretty sure the rope hadn’t been needed, anyway; the boat it had been attached to sailed away without it shortly after he untied it. He then set about mass-producing the trinkets, and when they were done, applied the ﬁnishing touches with watered down paint samples. The thing is, Dorsitt was about as talented at using his hands as he was at mental arithmetic and economics. The trinkets, while looking like decent copies of the real thing, unfortunately looked like decent copies of the real thing. The President of USUKA was, as one might imagine, no mug. When Dorsitt’s time machine was ﬁnally ﬁxed he zipped over to 2212 on the double and eagerly unpacked his ﬁrst batch in front of the President, his face a picture of naivety and palms literally dripping with
ﬁrst century Weymouthian. Turn over to enjoy the tour.
1. The Colwell Shopping Centre, School Street Here we ﬁnd Dorsitt’s Great Vacation Exhibition, in a somewhat unﬁnished state. The pieces range in their level of completion, some fresh out of the mould, others painted in realistic designs. Accompanying the time-traveller’s creations are pieces from other twenty-ﬁrst century artists, all local to the Weymouth area. 2. Weymouth Library, Great George Street Besides indulging in the imaginations of Adams and Asimov, in truth Dorsitt had never been much of a reader himself. Still, he reasoned that the people of 2212 would love a good, traditional book, and immersed in the tranquility of the library he conjured up his greatest piece of skinﬂintery: a book with no insides. While he spent a good hour painting the front cover to mimic a travel guide, he didn’t have the time or materials to replicate 250 pages of information. Thus, he didn’t bother, sure that the futureheads would be too impressed with the cover artwork to think about actually opening it up. Unfortunately for his well-being, he was wrong. 3. B+B Weymouth, 68 The Esplanade Bed & Breakfasts had long since died out in the twenty-third century and Dorsitt felt a relic representing this outmoded fashion would go down a storm in the President’s day. Peculiar little house-cum-hotels were packed to the rafters with holiday-makers in the height of summer. How did these people kick oﬀ their mornings? Why, with a nice slice of toast. For the privileged people of 2212, sandwiches, toast and the like all came prepackaged with ﬁllings and spreads already administered. How delightful, they would think, that these people from the past had to butter their own breakfast! 4. Christopher Robin Gift & Fancy Dress Shop, 70 The Esplanade Like any good seaside shop, Christopher Robin sells decorative ornaments to wide-eyed holiday-makers at questionable prices. The time-traveller particularly liked the seagull and sailor ﬁgurines, the casts of which can be found on display here. Shop staﬀ suspect sweet-toothed, penny-pinching Mr Dorsitt may have made oﬀ with a couple of sticks of rock while no-one was looking, too. 5. The Phoenix Bakery, 6-7 Coburg Place The only subjects Mr D had really excelled in at school were Physical Education and Cooking -- and as his gut found out, being an athlete and being a connoisseur of ﬁne french pastries weren’t compatible. Thus, a bakery where loaves of bread, rolls, cakes, pastries and the like were still made by hand was too much to resist for the time-traveller. Though no-one is quite sure of his identity, the staﬀ reported a rather large man spending several afternoons in the upstairs cafe here, sipping coﬀee and sampling more than a few of the freshly baked delights, frantically scribbling ﬁgures on a napkin and then crossing them out again with a frown. Dorsitt’s bread rolls masterpiece can be found next to the seat where he allegedly used to sit. 6. Bonus: Mr Dorsitt’s ﬂip-ﬂops People still got around on foot in 2012 and the favoured summer footwear was a pair of classic ﬂip-ﬂops. Having sold his sensible shoes to keep himself fed Dorsitt cobbled together a pair of his own from concrete and rope; not exactly lightweight, they were at least durable. In his rush to get back to the future they escaped his feet and were abandoned on the streets of Weymouth, where they still lie today. Can you ﬁnd them?
Art by Christopher Lee
Guide by Jude Ellery
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