Once upon a time, there was a story. Yes, it was epic; it was full of action, adventure, romance, intrigue, lots of ass-kickery, explosions, and swearing. Hell, there was even a pirate dueling with a ninja in a gigantic robot in outer space while some intense music played in the background. However, there was one, powerful, almighty, destructive flaw. It was filled with plot holes and random incidents, lacking the necessary transitions required in order for the story to make any sense. The travesty made the author cry him/herself to sleep every night as he/she tried desperately to determine just what he/she could do to fix this terrifying flaw.

Out of his/her sorrow and overall patheticness, the world's greatest deus ex machina was born.

I give you his debut:

In the nick of time, the two threw themselves from the bus, just as the bomb in the driver's seat went off. An immense explosion emanated from the area as they sprinted from the dangerous area.

Alone on the empty stretch of highway, except for the remains of the bus some fifty feet or so behind them, the two stared helplessly around. Nobody existed for miles; there wouldn't be another car on the road for another twenty or so miles, where the next exit lay. He glanced at his watch, which magically hadn't broken during the explosion.

"We have ten minutes," he informed, glancing at his partner in crime.

She gasped. "Ten minutes?! How are we supposed to get to the airport in ten minutes?!"

He shook his head. "I don't know. But if we don't get there in time, they will kill the pilot. We have to save those people on board!"

Growling in frustration, she whipped her head around, searching desperately for a sign of life. There didn't seem to be one. Until...

"Look! A car's coming!"

Glancing up in excitement, he darted into the middle of the street in an attempt to flag the car down. Seeing the man in the road, the driver pulled over, a blank look set on his face.

"Sir, we need you to take us to the airport--it's a matter of national security!"

The driver nodded. "Sure, hop in!"

I'm going to skip this part, because it's long and nothing relevant to what I'm talking about happens in here.

"Blast!" he cried, slamming his fist into his open palm. "He's escaped!"

"He must be headed to his fortress in the underground city!" she surmised, flicking her attention around the open runway. "If only we had a way to get there!"

At that moment, a very familiar car came driving up the runway. Neither of the detectives bothered to question how or why he was there; they were too grateful. Sprinting up to the car, he banged on the window for the second time that day.

"Hey, how'd your whole 'saving the world' thing go?" the driver inquried, smiling as he rolled down the window.

"He got away. We need you to drive us to the abandoned shantytown in the middle of the city."

"Well, hop in."

As you can tell, it was a ridiculous situation that required an equally ridiculous invention.

Over the years, the Lord of Impeccable Timing has evolved into any sort of creature and/or being and/or abstract notion that authors require for making the reader believe in the dream they have concocted, and lives on in the enchanted forest that is the author's mind, popping out whenever he/she runs into a plot hole or inconcievable condition.

Yay for easy fixes! :D