Nigel Peers was the most brilliant student of theoretical physics currently attending the New York Institute of Advanced Science. His professors were blown away by the advances he was making in his research, and he was hailed by many of them to be the next Einstein. Looking behind ludicrously thick glasses and overlong straw-blonde bangs into gently gleaming eyes, all who met him could tell that Nigel Peers was unequivocally a genius.

He also currently had a higher blood-alcohol content than a bottle of bourbon.

"You know, I'm on the verge of provin' my- my hypotho-whatsit about the shape of this here space-time continuuminuminum." He said to no one in particular, though he attempted to say it to a very attractive "woman" sitting next to him at the bar, under the mistaken impression that this would ever be nearly as appealing as the power to tell a good joke or be mistaken for an underwear model. Already disappointed by "her" disinterest, he was rather irritated to hear a deep, amused chuckle from the man on the other side of him whom he had not noticed previously.

"What'ssss so funny, mis-oh feck!" He said as he attempted to spin around on his barstool and awkwardly landed on the vomit-and-grime-encrusted floor, bumping his head on the bar on his way down. Rubbing the place where his cranium learned an important lesson on gravity, he happily took the hand of the stranger who had been sitting next to him as he hoisted him up.

The stranger was a black man of immense proportions, standing easily 7 feet tall and not possibly weighing less than 300 pounds. He didn't seem fat, or even particularly muscled, simply solid and sturdy. He wore a black over-coat and hat, of a style commonly associated with the era of prohibition and tommy-guns, as well as a pair of sunglasses. As Nigel righted himself, the way the spots in front of his eyes and the neon lights inside the bar fell on the stranger made it seem like he was covered with constellations of stars and planets.

"Thanks for the helllp, mister." He said. "Can I buy you a drink?" The man smiled, still chuckling. He spoke in between soft giggles.

"None for me, thanks." His voice was monumentally deep, and majestically powerful like kings' voices should be. "Instead why don't you tell me what it is you're on the verge of finding out? I used to have a reasonable interest in science. Though you may want to dumb things down for me a bit." He then pointed at his head and shook it slowly. "I've forgotten much of what I used to know, you see. I'm Mr. Omni, by the way."

"Wellll I'd be happy to, Mister Oh-me!" Nigel said, sloppily shaking his hand. He'd never exactly been one for modesty or shyness, though this mattered little as he'd never had many friends to be immodest or unshy to. "It's quite basic, really. The short and the long of it is that the universe hasn't really got, a, uh... what's the word I'm thinking of? Starts with a shhhhh, comes up a lot on geometry?"

"Shape." Mr. Omni offered helpfully.

"Right! Shape! Well, it hasn't got one. The space-time-croutonomicon, that is."
"You mean continuum?"

"Yes, that one."

"Very interesting hypothesis. Is it because you believe the nature of the Universe to be beyond such measurement or-"

"Oh no no. The Universe is quite simple, really. It's just like a really, really big closet, see, that you keep all your stuff in. Nothin' too ornery about that."

"That's quite a... simplified view of things." Mr. Omni replied a tad stiffly. "If that's the case, though, then why does it have no shape?"

"Well, see, because it's a really big closet. Really big. Bigger than big. Infinite, in fact."

"You say the universe is infinite, then?"

"I'd bet my life on it. Of course, I haven't actually quite proved that bit yet, but all the data is certainly looking to point in that direction."

"You're rather confident, aren't you?"
"I suppose you could say so." He said with an even higher air of smugness than normal.

"Interesting. So is this universe you're proposing-"

"-Proving."

"-proving empty, or is it filled with matter?"

"Oh, it's filled with stuff, I'm sure of it. All sorts of stuff. Infinite stuff, even. Of all kinds. Infinite kinds of infinite stuff. ‘Scuse me." Nigel took a moment to rush into the bathroom and vomit. Returning he finished, adding "It's big. "

"So... you've proposed an infinite universe containing infinite kinds of infinite stuff, correct?"

"Yes. No. Yes. Yes, stuff. Lots of it."

"In which case, this universe would contain an infinite variety of happenings. Literally anything that possibly could happen would have happened, will happen, and is happening right now?"

Nigel seemed to think about this for a moment before nodding. "Yes. Yes I do believe that is what I am saying."

"And you're absolutely sure of this?" Mr. Omni seemed a tad concerned, though it was difficult to tell. He never did quite stop chuckling.

"As sure as sure can be." Nigel said confidently.

"In which case, if anything that possibly could have happened has happened already, would that not include the destruction of the universe itself, meaning that it does not at the moment even exist anymore?"

This idea entered Nigel' mind, and rattled about a bit for quite a while. He was quite an intelligent man, usually. But he was also a man who was not prone to leaving certain ruts of thought had he left them already, and was still quite drunk. As a result, he could see no possible way out of this conclusion except-

"But if that were the-uh-the case, wouldn't we all be just a bit... not here?"

"Well, it's possible that you aren't here and you simply haven't realized it yet."

Nigel thought that this was the only logical solution left, and in doing so realized that he no longer existed. Reality warped and swirled momentarily, before letting out a small burping sound. Within moments, Nigel Peers had not only ceased to be, but had been retroactively removed from existence. The people of the bar did not notice, because there had been nothing to notice to begin with.

Mr. Omni's chuckling continued, and he paid for his drinks and left. He stepped outside into the cool night air, and took a few steps. As he did, his dark colours and contours blended in with those of the night, and the many tiny constellations on his form brightened and positioned themselves into perfect synchronicity with those in the sky. Within the blink of an eye, Mr. Omni had disappeared. Not into nothingness, but back into everything.