This is a group process fanfic. That means, I write a part of the story, then,when I say NEXT, it's someone else's turn, and then when they say NEXT, it's someone else's turn, and so on until back to me and then the process starts all over again. I'll start off. NOTE: While the three core characters are in FS mode, I included settings and characters from the strip as well. Also, I gave Popeye a birth name here (and an ethnicity/ancestry) Popeye the Sailorman and his sweetheart Olive Oyl were finishing up lunch in Rough House's diner. Olive then turned her attention to a painting of a Roman coliseum on the wall. "Oh, Popeye." she sighed, her long, feminine lashes fluttering, her eyes limpid pools sparkling in the sunshine. "I think it would be too, too divine if I could travel back in time to the days of the Roman Empire and be romanced by a Roman Emperor." She gave another romantic sigh as she took out her lipstick stamp pad and dabbed on a scarlet mouth. "I wish I could meet a handsome Roman empe-ror,who could kiss me all to pieces and make me feel cared for!" The Sailorman gave out with his signature laugh. "Well, blow me down!" he said and gave another laugh. "That's got to be the most ridicu-ludicrous thing I ever hoid in me life or me name ain't Martin "Popeye" O'Hanlon!" he laughed yet again. "Why, that's as preposteriorous as Wimpy starting his own hamboiger company." "Popeye!" Olive snapped. "What's so silly about that?" "Well," said Popeye. "If Wimpy ran a hamboiger company, he'd eat up all his profitsk." Olive scowled. "Oh, Popeye!" she scolded. "You have hamburgers for brains. I was talking about me having a Roman emperor for a beau." "That's all ancient hiskory, Olive." said Popeye. "The Roaming Empire reclined and fell a long time ago. We don't have any emperoyalties anymore, roaming or otherwise. The US of A's a demo-crazy." "I know that, Popeye." said Olive. "It was just a romantic fantasy. A gal can fantasize, can't she?" Popeye tooted his pipe. "Fantaskies is de bunk." The raven-haired cutie sipped the last of her iced tea and gave an exasperated snort. "Oh, Popeye." she said witheringly. "You're about as romantical as the fungus that causes athlete's feet." "I yam what I yam and that's all that I yam." The Sailorman shot back. "Now, let's go to the sciensk museum." Olive nearly spat out her tea "Science museum?" she yelped. "Popeye, you have rocks in your head! I thought we were going roller-skating." "We can wait to skate." growled Popeye. "Professor Whatasnozzle has an exhibit at the sciensk museum and I want to look at it." "Science museums leave me cold." Olive answered, briefly morphing into a block of ice. "Aw, be a sport, Olive." said Popeye. "It might be interesking." Olive sighed. "OK, I'll be a sport." She briefly morphed into a baseball player. A sulky sailor trudged beside an adorable dark-haired Miss. Olive was always fantasizing about having other gents as beaus. Big handsome musclebound gents. He remembered how, at the seaside, Olive looked at that blond tanned lifeguard like she was on a diet and he was a fudge sundae. And how she flirted with that handsome French fur trader during their North Pole vacation. And the fitness instructor at Lake Narrowhead, and that fancy British nobleman in the park. And then there was her little fantasy about that handsome French fellow on TV who wore a penguin suit and read lovey-dovey stories to women in the audience. And how many times had she flirted with his pal Bluto from Bridgeport, playing with his muscles and calling him Handsome," right under his nose? And all those times, things went kablooey and Popeye had to bail her out. It was a good thing there were no Roman emperors anymore. With a tear in both his open eye and his squinting one, The Sailorman wondered when his "goil" would wake up and realize that he was the emperor of her heart and he was the one she wanted, even if he wasn't big and handsome like those other fellas. At the Science Museum of Sweethaven, the bearded scientist stood beside a sheet-covered object. "Behold!" Whatasnozzle exclaimed. "My invention." He whipped the sheet off the item to reveal . . . "A jet plane!" exclaimed The Sailorman. "Yippee! I can go to Ireland and see some of my fortyfathers." Olive frowned. Whatasnozzle laughed. "This is a time plane." he said. "It travels back in time." "That's gotta be the bunk." Popeye said. "It's jusk for entertainment poiposes." The scientist laughed. "We'll see about that." "Me goil has a bug in her brain about the Roaming Empire and having a Roaming Emperoyalty as her lover-beau." Whatasnozzle set a dial. "Have a nice flight." he said. With that, The Sailorman and the raven-haired cutie boarded the plane, which zipped through the stratosphere like a speeding bullet. NEXT!