Mark Wahlberg and some piece of shit hanger-on that he always hangs around with were doing crunches and burpees and dips in Mark Wahlberg’s mansion’s basement gym at 3AM on a Tuesday morning. The dude, let’s call him Truck, was flipping through the channels on the 120″ projection screen across from the wall of mirrors, trying to find something to pump them up, like a UFC fight, or porn, when he stumbled across a History channel documentary about fighter pilots in the second world war. “I tell you what,” Mark Wahlberg grunted, pouring tanning oil over his torso even though he was inside and it was the middle of the night, “if I’d been around that whole thing wouldn’t have gone down like that.”
“What thing?” Truck asked.
“World War II, kid,” Mark Wahlberg said.
“What’s World War II?” the fucking idiot asked.
“You know that movie Valkyrie?” Mark Wahlberg asked.
“What do you mean it wouldn’t have gone down like that? Like, you would have been in World War II instead of Tom Cruise?”
“I’m just saying, if I was in first-class Nazi, Germany with my kids, there would have just been a lot of blood in the crematoria and then me saying “OK, we’re going to be a democratic republic with no genocide very soon. Don’t worry.”
Truck made a protein shake but he put tequila in it for some reason. He also excused himself to the bathroom where he jerked off into the sink before returning to the weight room and looking his friend, Mark Wahlberg in the eye. “I been thinking about all that stuff you said earlier,” he said.
“You mean two minutes ago, before you jerked off in the bathroom?”
“Yeah. I mean, you’re Mark Wahlberg, son! I’m just sayin’, like, maybe you’re right, you know? Maybe it would have been different with you there and all that shit. You know?”
“Yeah, I know,” Mark Wahlberg said. “I’m the one who said it. Of course I know. I’m Mark Wahlberg, co-owner of Wahlburgers.”
“No, yeah, but I mean, what I’m saying is why don’t you change it? You’re rich and famous. You own a state-of-the-art time machine. You’re Mark Fucking Wahlberg!”
Mark Wahlberg clenched his jaw and stared at his friend that so many people had told him throughout his life he should stop being friends with because the guy was a leech and a piece of shit, but maybe also he was a genius? Mark Wahlberg wiped the gym sweat off his body with a brand new towel and threw that towel in the garbage. Finally, he nodded. Without saying a word, Mark Wahlberg left his friend and went upstairs into his mansion to the time machine room. He didn’t even bother putting a t-shirt on as he stepped into the atomization chamber and punched in the dates. January 30, 1933. The day Hitler was appointed chancellor of the coalition government. He stepped onto the stone steps of the Reichstag in central Berlin. People were like, “Oh shit!” Mark Wahlberg didn’t even look at them. He just walked right up to the podium and was like, “Yo! Hitler!” Slowly, Hitler turned to face this glistening, shirtless man in cargo shorts and those disgusting finger-toed shoes that only assholes wear. Before he could even get out a word, Mark Wahlberg grabbed his head and snapped his neck. As Hitler’s body slumped to the ground, Mark Wahlberg let out a barely audible “PAH!” but you could hear it fine, actually. It was super loud, actually.
And that’s why World War II never happened!