He plays the file. The marble rolls perfectly, frame by frame, at 29.97 fps. A single tear rolls down his cheek.

(to George) “Is that Bible?”

“I’m suggesting you turn it off and on again, dummy.”

Sheldon sighs. He spots a shelf labeled “CLOSEOUT: FAX MODEMS.”

“It was adequate. But I learned something more important. The future is not a place we arrive at. It’s a command line we type into the present.”