The traveller emerged from his time machine.
The machine itself was built in the form of a small armchair. It had a hood at the back that could be pulled over the person sitting, much like those used in convertible sports cars. The inside of this hood had a small flat screen with a series of dials and switches beneath, for time navigation purposes. However, all this clever instrumentation was of little help on this occasion. He now had no idea where he was. The time indication display had gone blank moments before the chair stopped shuddering, letting him know it was no longer moving through time. He switched on the power cell charging unit. The screen remained blank, telling him nothing of his where or when. The recharging would take several minutes.
He slowly lifted the hood and looked around. There was hardly enough light to see much, but he sensed he was in a room. He took a pencil torch from his pocket and scanned his surroundings. It looked as though he’d landed in somebody’s drawing room. It looked dated somehow, probably Victorian. He found a light switch. He stood looking around. He wondered about the sort of people who lived here, it was certainly a very nicely appointed room. There was an ornate free-standing privacy screen in the corner, which he opened up and placed around his time machine. He was admiring the design on its panels when the door opened. A frustrated looking man with a clipboard came in.
“Oh! You came today!” He looked at his clipboard. “You’re the guy here to do some measuring, I presume?”
He hesitated, “Eh. Yes.”
“OK. What’s your name?”
Without hesitation, he replied, “Ernest.”
The other raised an eyebrow. “Really?”
The time traveller had the feeling that things were about to go bad for him. “Well, yes it is. Why, is that important?”
The other went wide-eyed for a moment, then he burst out laughing. When he finally managed to recover his self-control, he said, “OK, very good, but you need to be out of here shortly. We start shooting in ten minutes.”
“Shooting?” He asked.
As he left, the man said, “Yes, ten minutes.”
As quickly as he could, he moved the screen back, dropped into his chair, checked that everything was fully charged and programed his return to the basement of his home. It was there, with all his equipment working that he was able to determine where and when he’d been.
It turned out that at that precise location and time he’d been in a television company’s recording studio. He’d been on the set of the drawing room, where they were about to film act three of ‘The Importance of Being Earnest’.