A very long time ago, five men in animal skin rags huddled around a crackling camp fire as the sun set and darkness enveloped them. The first yelled loudly to draw attention.
“Me tell story,” he grunted. “My father was greatest hunter that walked the plains. He killed many many beasts. His family ate well every night. But he killed so many that he made the gods upset. One day the god, err… Palvae, appeared to him in a ball of fire. ‘You hunt too well, hero, be mindful that your children also have enough to eat. Do not over-hunt…’”
“You interfering idiot!” interjected the second man.
The first’s jaw dropped in surprise. “Wait… you’re a time traveller too?”
“Yes!” spat the second. “What on earth do you think you are doing, spreading some ham-fisted ecological message or something? History doesn’t work like that!”
“Um… sorry to interrupt chaps…” They both turned in shock to stare at the third speaker, who shifted nervously. “While we’re on the subject, I did, um… sort of teach everyone how to make fire…”
“You meddling twerp!” shouted the fourth, breaking his silence. “I came here from the 26th century to find out how that happened and it turns out clever clogs Prometheus just brought a box of matches with him!”
The argument broke off suddenly as the fifth figure cleared his throat.
“Captain Lampton,” said the fifth figure. “Time Police. Before I place all you geniuses under arrest, can somebody please tell me… where are the real cavemen?”