The crowd roared. Ronnie Johnny Jackson came around the corner at Mach speed, sparks flying and smoke pouring. His vibrant red and white leather suit caught the light in a way that would make angels sing, and far above, they sang and they wept. His suit matched his street luge perfectly, radiating the finest style and highest class. The polished rims of the luge reflected the faces of the adoring audience as they cheered for the lightning fast racer.

From Ronnie’s viewpoint, the world was a slot machine. Endless spinning colors went by on either side of him, moving so fast that locking his eyes onto one object was not a possibility. He realized about five minutes prior that there wasn’t a way he could survive this run. He could hear in his earpiece that he had already broken every street luging world record imaginable, the announcers were howling like starved hyenas, mouths foaming with ravenous excitement.

Ronnie Johnny Jackson wasn’t just a street luger, he was also Dr. Ronald J. Jackson, who had doctorates in both Nuclear physics and Particle physics. Up until three years prior, Dr. Ronald had never been interested in street luging, let alone actually participating in the sport. During one of his many guest lectures at the University of Oxford, one of his pupils brought up street luging as an example of something that completely relies on gravity. This fascinated Dr. Ronald, and at that moment, the student sparked a small flicker of obsession in the professor.

Dr. Ronald was among the greatest minds in his field, his peers often deferring to his research when their own theories went down rabbit holes too far from his teachings. His studies were focused on the fundamental interactions; electromagnetism, gravitation, the weak interaction, and the strong interaction. Dr. Ronald was deeply invested in the strong force that held the basic building blocks of reality in place, and even theorized that there might be a fifth force.

After months of trying to apply his knowledge of particle physics with street luging, he finally broke through the indestructible wall of gravity, and began using the weak interaction to individually strengthen the pull of each particle in the wheels, down to the protons and neutrons and all the way to the atomic nuclei. In Layman’s terms, he could easily beat any professional street luger in the world by having a force 1,111,001,000,100 times stronger than gravity.

That was when Ronnie Johnny Jackson was born, and the doctor left his post at university to pursue more glorious endeavors. After effortlessly winning multiple gold medals, he quickly became a luging legend with worldwide recognition. Ronnie JJ was the belle of the ball on every late-night talk show, sports broadcast, and he even landed himself a cameo in the latest Scorsese film. All of those things led Ronnie Johnny Jackson to today’s stunt, where his career was about to come to an abrupt end.

After his fifteen minutes of fame began to fade, Ronnie donned the cap of doctor once more and figured out how to go beyond his previous limits, and began toying with the quarks until he achieved a strong interaction; the absolute strongest force known to man. With this advancement, he could go 1,000,000 times faster than his previous record. And that was his downfall.

...

The world was no longer a slot machine, now it was dark purple with yellow cracks beginning to form in the sky. He had only been luging for 25 seconds when he heard over his earpiece that he’d broken all of the records. That was when Ronnie realized there wasn’t going to be a way to slow down, and that he’d inevitably explode into a mist of wet red bone dust as soon as he lost control. He started feeling sharp sensations of pain over his entire body as wire thin bolts of electricity started forming across his leather suit.

The sky cracked harder, causing an explosion of yellow light and a deafening supersonic sound that rang through the seaside Italian town he was luging through. Hundreds of innocents grabbed their heads and fell to the ground, their hearing never recovering again, and the majority were blinded as well. The thin bolts of electricity surging over Ronnie immediately grew thick and terrible, forking and shooting into the crowd as Ronnie blew through the town center.

A stray electrical bolt blasted into an elderly gentleman with a huge smile on his face holding a large sign that read, “WE LOVE RJJ!” He was disintegrated in a second, not even a trace of soot remained where he stood. And that was just the first of many. Hundreds of the onlookers were fried as they cheered, having no idea that anything was out of place as they admired their exceedingly fast street luger.

And then it happened. Ronnie’s extreme speed made a fracture in reality. The dark purple sky shattered into pure golden light, and the force that followed was unlike any that had come before it in any of the known universes. The entire seaside town was decimated in an instant, completely rocked by the fully unleashed force from the dimensional door opening. The ground was unrecognizable, the ocean was shooting tsunamis in the opposite direction of the coast, and the Shroud of Turin that had been on loan at the local museum was forever lost. The remaining angels really wept at that.

Ronnie Johnny Jackson’s street luge lifted off the ground, as friction was a minor annoyance in the strong force’s momentum. The golden light was all he could see now, and he and the luge began to slowly spiral towards the sky. Sacred geometry revealed itself to Ronnie as the spirals became wider and wider, patterns unlike any he’d seen filling every inch of the spiraling golden light. And then he slept.

When Ronnie awoke, what lay before him was nameless (to our minds, at least.) Although hard to perceive, Ronnie could only describe what he saw as, “A Neon Line Patterned City with Computer Chip Grass.” He heard something too blasphemous and beautiful to be a synthesizer, but it was the only way Ronnie could describe it. There were Clock-like ethereal beings that would phase in and out of his vision. After months spending time in their presence, he was finally able to have a kind-of conversation with them.

...

Simon leaned forward, and pressed pause on the recorder. “Are you sure you want to hear this next part, William?”

“No, I think that is enough studying for today. I’m tired, I don’t care what some quack doctor made up about another dimension.” William said through an arrogant yawn. “I guess if you want me to ask, I will ask. Where did Jackson end up?”

Simon rolled his eyes, took a sip of his scotch, and began to end his tale. “Ronnie Johnny Jackson was found two days later in the middle of a Brazilian rainforest. He was arrested and charged for the alleged bombing and destruction of the seaside town of Traboccare. He never told the authorities that it wasn’t an attack on the town, but the result of a more advanced sound barrier breakage. The disgraced doctor is still rotting in jail today, well over the longest human lifespan of 120 years. His cell face’s the prison yard’s clock, and he’s never taken his eyes off it in all his time spent incarcerated.”