[ WP ] The date is July 13 , 1836 . You 're the clerk at the front desk of the U.S. Patent Office on opening day . Things are going just fine until a number of strangely-dressed people get into an argument about their placement in line . Coincidentally , they 're all trying to patent methods of time travel .

Fred scratched his head, combing through the help manual he'd gotten in training. There was no chapter on time travel. He started flicking through the pages at random, shooting a nervous glance up at the three angry men in front of him. Finding nothing in the manual that would be of any help, Fred resorted to repeating what he had already said several times. 
 
 `` There's nothing in here,'' he told the men, holding up the manual. `` As I said, the rules are: whoever gets here first gets the patent.'' 
 
 As expected, the three men exploded at once. They all tried to shove their way in front and shout louder than anyone else. 
 
 `` I was born centuries before either of you! ``, one of them said. He wore a strange combination of jacket, garters, and rubber boots and he had a thin moustache that curved around his head. 
 
 `` I perfected the Five-fold Split! You missed your target with 20 years! ``, another one said. This one was completely hairless and covered in a thin silky material from the neck down, but he did n't need eyebrows to convey his anger. 
 
 `` Time is a Möbius strip! The end is the beginning! ``, the third one piped up. Fred could only assume the statement was meant to solidify the man's claim, but he failed to see how. 
 
 The three men reached a sort of standstill. They stared at Fred expectantly, grunting and cursing while trying to hold their ground against the others. Fred looked at each of them in turn, trying to think of a way to please the men -- or at least get them to leave. 
 
 `` OK,'' he began. The men stiffened. `` How about this: you can share the patent. That way, you all get your share.'' 
 
 They were quiet for a second... and then they started shouting and pushing again, even worse than before. 
 
 `` Absolutely not! ``, the first one said, his moustache quivering with rage. 
 
 `` I will *not* give ANYTHING to these imposters! ``, the second one yelled. 
 
 `` All that once was, shall be! Everything is nothing! ``, the third one said. For a second, even he looked confused as to what side he was on. 
 
 Fred sighed again, deeper. He addressed the men like he addressed his five-year-old niece when she would n't eat her dinner. 
 
 `` Well, this is how it's going to be. There's no other way. Either you share, or no one gets anything.'' 
 
 The men exchanged irritated glances, huffing and snorting. They crossed their arms and turned away from each other, speaking to Fred while ignoring the other two. 
 
 `` I guess it'll do, *for now*'', the first one said, his last words dripping with venom. 
 
 `` This is not over'', the second one assured, not even trying to hide the hatred in his voice. 
 
 `` I'm flexible'', the third one said. 
 
 Fred remained completely still, afraid to break the strange spell that had suddenly compelled the men to agree to a compromise. When it seemed that none of them changed their mind, he spoke up. 
 
 `` Alright! Great. One moment; I'll get the papers.'' He left them to fetch the necessary paperwork from the back room. His mood had improved considerably by the time he made his way back, carrying a stack of large sheets of paper. 
 
 Then he saw something strange. 
 
 By chance, he happened to glance over the `` T'' shelf, where all the patents beginning with `` T'' were kept. One of the labels made him stop in his tracks: `` Time Machine''. *Huh. * He had never seen that one before, and yet he had helped to set up the room. He thought he knew almost every patent they had. But this one came as a complete surprise. At the very least, he should have *heard* of it -- right? 
 
 He dropped the stack of papers and instead brought the patent out to the men. They eyed him suspiciously when he laid out a finished patent in front of them. 
 
 `` I found something strange'', Fred said. `` Apparently, someone's already filed a patent for something called a'Time Machine'.'' 
 
 The men looked at each other, each exclaiming variations of'well, it was n't me!'. Then they all turned back to Fred. 
 
 `` Well, who filed it!? ``, the first one said. Fred put his finger to the page, searching for the signature. 
 
 `` Let's see...'' The men followed his finger like a cat follows a string of yarn, and when it finally settled on a scrawled name at the bottom of the page, they held their breath. Fred looked up at them. 
 
 `` Here we are: one'Nikola Tesla'. Hm. No idea who that is.'' 
 
 The men went silent, staring at the paper and beyond. Their lips twisting in contempt, they all muttered a single word: 
 
 `` *Tesla. *''
