jG, I believe that paranoia has you by the big toe. I do not work for any clandestine organisation, I was sent here 42 years ago merely as an observer. I was set at the factory to spout gibberish which may have its roots in any recent cultural era. It was seen as superfluous to install any 50's era gibberish, as I was not sent here until after that time. My ability to voyage through time is of no consequence.
Jg, please do not pursue the idea that my toaster is any kind of vortex or portal any further, or perform any investigation into such ideas, or attempt to enlist the services of any of your agencies in this matter. ie. DO NOT under any circumstances try to call Dean Martin or Fred MacMurray. This can only lead to unhappiness on your part, and I fear it could ruin the bread industry across the entire planet, if not the very suburb you inhabit.
I agree that the Colonel used to do a good line in chicken, but his request for us to "come to the chicken" is, I believe, a vain plea in an attempt to rekindle his glory days when the chicken actually had some muscle in it. In this more modern era of deep fried skin and bones, his call falls on deaf ears. No amount of "accessories" in the form of gravy, potato with the consistency of plaster of paris, and corn which looks like it has been used as some sort of pipe cleaning device, will ever conceal the fact that, in a fast-food sense, the Colonels days must be numbered. His ability to muster troops in support of the most brilliantly conceived and executed media player on the planet is beyond rebuff. However, I'm in no doubt that the new media center enterprise is designed purely as a smokescreen, so that his superior agents do not become suspicious of the decline of the chicken branch. Of course, all these observations will go in my full report.
And Colonel, your pitiful attempt to neutralise me by suggesting I short-circuit myself by bathing with a computer could bring dire consequences to THE ENTIRE PLANET (or at least to your cleaning lady, Ethel).
Enough of this!