Rachel wakes up next to Henry.

Rachel: I had a lot of fun last night.

Henry: Before this goes any further, I have to warn you. I was born with a rare genetic disorder that causes me to skip through time. I may disappear for months, even years at at time.

Rachel: That's awful! Let me make breakfast, we can talk about-

The room is empty. Henry is already gone.

Rachel stands on her porch. Henry approaches, dishevelled.

Rachel: Henry! Finally, you're back. You look horrible.

Henry: Yes, the effects of time travel often resemble a hangover.

Rachel: At least you're here. My parents are in town this week, I really want you to meet them.

Henry: Ah, that's this week?

Rachel: Yes…

Henry: I think I feel some time travel coming on.

Rachel: Again?

Henry: Shouldn't be longer than, oh, I don't know, six or seven days. Also, stay away from O'Reilly's Pub. I heard there's a time vortex there.

Rachel: Are those dangerous?

Henry: Horribly.

Rachel arrives home from work. Henry is asleep on the couch, his hand down his pants.

Henry: Ah! My love, what year is it? How long since-

Rachel: Cut the shit, Henry. You fell asleep watching porn again. 

Henry: My dearest, just because my affliction prevents gainful employment-

Rachel holds up pair of women's underwear.

Henry: Ah. Time travel is very, very complicated…

Rachel: I think you should move out.

Henry: How can you say that, knowing at any second I could- Oops, here I go now.

He disappears from sight.

You're just hiding under the couch!

Time vortex?

I think we're done here.