The Dead’s acquisition and sloppy handling of Time Sheath technology has been a running thread of TotD’s Sweater of Justice. I WEAVE THESE GARMENTS OF TRUTH FOR YOU, MY BELOVEDS.
Before they lost control of the Sheath, there were many adventures…
Phil suggested a trip through musical history; everyone readily agreed, but the first person they went to see was Rachmaninoff to hear-in person!–the maestro play his vaunted and feared Third Concerto and Bobby said “More like Cock-maninoff,” under his breath and Garcia fucking lost it: tears running down his cheeks, the whole thing, and the maestro heard them giggling and got all Russian about it and threw his piano bench into the audience. Phil wouldn’t talk to anyone for a week.
Brent committed war crimes. There’s no way to sugarcoat it.
Billy kept using it to visit P.J. Soles when she was in high school and the Time Cops–who are already really busy trying to stop every yahoo with a flux capacitor from killing Hitler–had to step in. (When we’re talking foxy 70’s babes, it’s Mrs. Donna Jean, P.J. Soles, and Bailey from WKRP. End of discussion, and none of this Loni Anderson nonsense: you wanted to take Loni Anderson out; you wanted to take Bailey home.)
Seriously: King Leopold thought Brent was a monster.