Away away in the wildness of the wilderness yonder two aunts sat talking on an aunt-hill.

“General relativity,” said Aunt Jill.

“Yes?” said Aunt Jane.

“Einstein didn’t observe anything new. He just thought different about what had been observed. Relativity could’ve been figgered out thousands o’ years ago.”

“Maybe it was,” observed Aunt Jane, busily clacking her knitting needles.

“Maybe,” pondered Aunt Jill, sipping her Lady Grey tea, “long, long ago, in Atlanticus, or Moo-moo or somewheres, they figgered it all out, made atom bombs and everythin’, an’ blew theyselves all to hell and gone!”

“Could be,” said Aunt Jane, frowning as she tried to remember her stitches count.

“Maybe it happened more than once.” Aunt Jill smoothed her silk skirt over her knees. “Maybe three or four times. Maybe that’s always what happens. Civilization gets to this point, then… Kaboom!”

Aunt Jane sighed. “I jus’ hope it don’t bother my chickens none. They don’t lay good when they get all excited.”

“Could you send me over some eggs?” asked Aunt Jill. “I bin tryin’ to get this new soufflé recipe right.”

“Sure thing. I’ll have Timmy bring them over in the mornin’.”

“I just hope it don’t fall agin’.”