The first time I met Doctor Amzi H. Bannister was a time I could never forget. I was walking down the one of many boulevards in my fine city dressed in the height of fashion when a strange noise caught my attention. It seemed to be emanating from a gadget store across the street. The sound was that of fast moving air, like a tea kettle beginning to boil. I proceeded to let my inquiry get the best of me and entered the store. It was lined with anything and everything brass, leather and dark wood. From time-telling sculptures that fit into a pocket to net guns to even a devise that lets one breath poisonous air and remain unaffected. I followed the mysterious noise to the back of the shop to an unlocked door that read “Inventors Only.”
I slid my eyes only barely out from the door as to not reveal myself. In the large cluttered room stood a man two feet off the ground, levitating in mid air. Thick white smoke was flying out of his back, yet his coat nor trousers were on fire. He moved slightly to the left, and his legs didn’t move once. He did a 360° turn, and on his back stood two small brass cans held together in a wooden frame. These cans were the source of the smoke and sound. The frame and cans were secured to the inventor by a leather harness. He returned to Earth and was shocked to find me peeping on his testing, but he was a generous man and introduced himself as Doctor Amzi H. Bannister, proprietor of the shop in which we stood.
I posed the question of how a man can stand still in mid air. He showed me his latest invention, the Back Pack Propulsion Unit, which used compressed air in small canisters to counteract the force that attracted people to the ground. He offered me to try it out for myself. Being his guest, and a little eager, I did not refuse his invitation. The leather straps were snug and the whole contraption bulky. It was obvious Doctor Azmi was still in the primary stages of inventing. He flipped a switch on the back and the noise from before reared its head. I felt the weight on my feet grow less and less until I was flying. It was a truly terrifying experience.
On the way out, I noticed Doctor Amzi was preoccupied with one of his other inventions in the far corner of his workroom. The Back Pack was amazing, but it’s inventor didn’t know it. I decided to take the revolutionary invention and use it to change society for the better on my own. In one quick move I snatched the contraption along with the net gun I saw before, Hiding both under my overcoat, and made my way home.
Over the next week, several businessmen consulted with me about my amazing flying machine. One such businessman was the head of a group that gave out a prestigious award for inventing, and they wished to have me as the recipient this year. I didn’t think twice about saying I would attend.
The award night was filled with gentlemen dressed in the height of fashion arriving by marvelous self-powered vehicles with large rotating brass gears. These gentlemen in question were all wearing top hats with leather goggles, long dark coats and curled mustaches. I had a similar look, even going as far as having a net gun in a holster attached to my belt. High class indeed. Inside, an usher showed me and my date to our reserved table right in front of the stage. A band played while everyone found their seats.
Over the hour long event, the only productive thing was the naming this year’s winner. I got up to give my speech and even talked about how my wonderful invention functioned. It was half way through my speech when the door slammed open and a human silhouette appeared in the doorway. A familiar noise filled the room and smoke came from the opposite end of the room where the doors were. In a split second, the human figure leaped in the air and flew across the large banquet hall to land on the stage next to me and my award.
In a fiery rage, he screamed, “You Sir stole my invention, the very invention that gave you the award you hold in your hang!” Doctor Amzi turned to the crowed and explained how I broke into his shop one day and stole the Back Pack. He forgot about the net gun. I scream in a dramatic manner “You sir are an imposter!” and with one swift move took the gun out from my side and deployed the net, forcing the doctor to the ground. He was arrested, and I was allowed to continue my acceptance speech.