Todd stared at the flashing cursor on the computer screen, he couldn't believe he was still broke.
All the scams, the get rich quick schemes, nothing ever worked. He is a fucking hopeless case, and
he knows it. He considers suicide. There is a Saturday night special in the desk drawer. He pulls it
out, and he slips it's cold grip into his trembling hand. Runs the fingers of his other hand over the
barrel. Placing the cold revolver into his dry mouth. It tastes nasty. metallic. Leaning back in the
chair he braces himself in anticipation of the bullet. He imagines his finger pulling down on the
trigger. The bullet tears through the roof of his mouth, and into his brain. He figures that would be
the last thing he would sense. The lightning fast penetration of the slug into the tender meat of
his brain, then it would be darkness. For some reason he had an erection. "Shit !" he exclaimed.
He had to piss.It took balls to kill yourself. These he had not. He put away the gun, and made his
way to the bathroom Standing there with his dick in his hand he was pissing away, when all
of a sudden the song "Stand" by R.E.M came on. Full blast. It scared the shit out of him, and he
lost hold of his pecker, spraying urine down his leg and all over the floor. He nearly caught it in is
zipper as he rushed out of the bathroom searching for the source of the blaring tune. It emanated
from his computer. Reaching for the volume knob, he turned the sound all the way down. Except
the volume didn't change. The knob broke off in his hand, and the song played on, "now face
north, and think about direction wonder why..." Ah ha! he thinks, and presses the off switch. It
won't turn off. The sound is ringing in his ears now, the volume is horrible. He stuffs a finger in
one of his ears, and continues to jam angrily at the power button with his other hand. "God damn
it!" he screams. In a fit of rage he jerks the power cord from the wall. Tough fucking shit. The
band played on. He didn't know how in the hell the PC could even be on, with no power, but fuck if
it wasn't. "fine" he thought. He'd simply wait for the song to end. He plugged his ears, till the last
note played. But it didn't end. It lingered on.
"Stannnnnndddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddd......" the note vibrated through his fingers and
into his skull. "D..........." on and on and on and on. He'd run. Yes, he'd leave his house and get
away from the sound. But he couldn't. His feet were glued to the floor, it was as if he were
hypnotized. As he struggled to move he could feel himself losing balance. And, like a chopped
tree in the forest, Todd toppled to the floor. Then the music stopped. When Todd gathered
himself, a grey faced man appeared seemingly out of nowhere. "Ha ha ha" the odd looking man
exclaimed, "I love that song." Todd struggled to gain his wits. "Who the fuck are you ?" He
asked. "Well you aren't very sharp now are you?" The as yet anonymous man remarked.
"Didn't you hear the song?" "I'm Stan." "The song is called "Stand" " Todd said. "Not Stan".
"Bullshit!" yelled Stan. "It's been my theme song forever.""Don't you have a theme song?"
"Theme song?" Todd questioned. "No." "Ahh" said Stan, "That might be why your life is so shitty."
Todd was losing his temper, but he was scared nonetheless. "Who the hell are you?" Todd
screamed. Stan giggled. Todd continued. "What happened to my computer?", Stan raised his hand
to silence Todd. Then opened the desk drawer and took out the gun that Todd had placed in his
mouth what seemed like just a little while earlier. "See this?" Stan asked. "This pistol in your
mouth drew my attention, so to speak." "Do you really want to die?" Todd was tired, angry,
confused, and scared. "No." he said. "Well I think you do Stan said, and I think it's about time you
got your wish." Todd felt a tingling in his toes. He tried furiously to move them, but
still could not. "I don't want to die." "I don't believe you Todd. You're not very convincing." Stan
looked menacing. Todd felt the tingle turn to a burning sensation, and begin to travel up his feet
and into his legs. "Please, I don't want to die!" He continued, pleading with Stan. "Show me then,
Todd. Prove to me I should let you live. Take this instrument of death and prove to me you
deserve life." He handed Todd the revolver. Todd could no longer feel anything
below his ankles. "I can't feel my feet you fucker what are you doing to me ?" "Your feet are dead,
Todd. Just like the rest of you is about to be." "See, the thing about death, Todd, It creeps up on
you." "Starts low and moves right up to the old ticker." "Who knows Todd, you might have had
another 50 years, but since you want to die so badly, I'll just relieve you of those all today." "I'd
say you're about to 45, Todd. Won't be long now." Todd felt sick to his stomach and his vision
blurred. He pointed the revolver at Stan. "I'll prove I deserve life, I'll kill you you son of a
toothless cunt!" He pulled the trigger, click, and again, click, and again, click. Stan hollered, "Come
on Todd quit wasting my time." Todd checked to see if the gun was even loaded. There
was indeed one bullet. When he clicked the gun closed the cylinder began to rapidly spin, as if he
was playing Russian roulette with an invisible partner. It jarred to a stop. He could feel the pain
traveling up his legs and into his testicles. The pain was indescribable. Like tea bagging battery
acid. He thought at that point that if he could castrate himself he would, just to stop the agony.
"40 years left, Todd." Said Stan, "better hurry up!" Todd looked confused.
He was in pain, his vision was fading in and out. He hung his head and began to cry. "Oh for fuck
sake man!" Stan ejaculated. Todd's head was pulled upright as if by strings. Todd tried hard to
turn the firearm toward his strange guest for a second time, perhaps to try and threaten more
information out of him. But his hands just didn't seem to want to move in that direction. "Stop
wasting your time, Todd, believe me you don't have much left." "What if I were to offer to turn
your life around? Stan asked. "To give you the karma you think you deserve?" Todd firmly held
the gun as he listened intently. "How much are you willing to sacrifice, in order to make this
happen ?" "What is your commitment level sir ?" "Place the gun back into your mouth. Each pull of
the trigger is worth ten years." What the hell that was supposed to mean Todd did not know, but
he wasn't in a position to ask. Stan continued. "Every pull." "So come on, show me what you're
made of cowboy, yeeeee haaaaa!" Stan cheered. As the tears streamed down his cheeks he
placed the tip of the revolver back into his mouth. It was still wet from earlier. The death crawled
past his groin and into his lower abdomen. Todd retched, and threw up. Since the gun was in his
mouth half of the vomit came out of his nose. Stan questioned, "Have you no guts ?" "Maybe you
don't deserve to live." "Just wait then, death is on it's way." "No!" Todd screamed choking through
the tears and residual vomit. "Then pull that trigger! Pull it!" Todd gave up, he was a broken man.
He slowly applied pressure to the trigger and the hammer rocked back. Stan's lips pulled away
from his teeth in a crooked smile. Click. He was full on sobbing now. Scared to death, scared of
death, being driven practically mad by the pain which was now past his abdomen and approaching
the bottom of his ribs. Stan shrieked "pull it again!" Feeling dizzy, most likely due to the death
creeping into his lungs replacing the oxygen, Todd tensed his trigger finger once again. He
swallowed hard, his mouth filled with a mix of puke, snot, and saliva. Todd braced himself again
for the embrace of death. His hands were shaking. A salty drop of sweat burned into his eye. He
pulled the trigger. Click. The pain was rising further into his lungs, time was running out, he closed
his eyes, and prepared as best he could. Hoping for a miracle. He pulled. it seemed, alas this
time, that his luck had run out. Stan watched as Todd's brain matter exploded out of the back of
his skull, and globs of blood and tissue spilled out his nose. "Enough!" Stan said, and with a wave
of his hand, time seemed to stop. With another seemingly magical gesture, time seemed to run in
reverse. As the bullet reversed direction toward Todd's shattered skull, Stan grabbed it out of the
air, and clutched it in his fist. Time kept running in reverse till all the blood and brain matter was
back in it's right place. And then a little further. Till Todd's hands were to either side of his lap, gun
clutched in the right, spit and dirt dripping from the left. And then, like that! Todd awoke.
"Ahhhhh!" he screamed bloody murder, as if he'd just seen the devil. Or at least he'd been kicked
in the nuts by a small demon. "Congratulations, Todd. You win the prize." "What prize?" Todd
asked, taking a deep breath and realizing he could feel his legs and feet again. "This prize, Stan
said, handing Todd the warm, bloody bullet. This bullet has been through your brain. It represents
20 years. Keep it in your pocket as a reminder, that your life will now come to an end 20 years
earlier as a result of your good fortune. Whatever form that fortune might take." He went on to tell
Todd that the deal was sealed much earlier that day. Before the volume knob fell to the floor. You
see, there were 5 empty chambers in that gun, representing 50 years Stan had come to collect. An
instant 50 years, which was the cause of the death creeping through Todd's body that would have
obviously killed him. But death, as we all know, can sometimes be a game of chance. And by
having the guts to pull that trigger, he stopped the game and balanced the odds. Losing only ten
years for every time he wasn't able, to find the target. Todd placed his brand new bloody good luck
charm in his left pants pocket, and Stan was gone. Todd took a moment to gather himself and
check his surroundings. Lets see, he thought. Same wooden desk, cheap desk chair, and outdated
computer. Sans one volume knob. Same sticky stack of unwashed dishes in the sink. Poop stains
were still on the long worn carpet, from before his dog got hit by a car the year before. The
wallpaper hadn't changed. It was still rolling up at the edges, and baby blue/brown because of
cigarette smoke. No doubt about it, he was still in his (as the mock gameshow announcer in his
head would put it,) "Fabulous Home!" So if indeed he had been granted a charmed life, it hadn't
begun yet. At least as far as he could tell. Todd thought for a minute, and decided that the best
way to test his circumstances, would be to play the lottery. Yes, that had to be the answer. He
would play the lottery, and win, and then his life would get the kick start he dreamed of. He quickly
rose to his feet, took his keys from the "home sweet home" keyholder by the door, and grabbed
his 10 speed bike. He pulled the door shut and inserted the key to lock up. The words on the
deadbolt read "Standard Locks Inc" Hmm. he hadn't noticed that before. Shit, he thought. He had
forgotten his wallet. He propped his bike up on the kickstand, and unlocked the deadbolt. Which
now, he noticed, had no writing on it whatsoever. Great, he thought. He was halluciating. He left his
door cracked and ran inside, down the hall littered with dirty clothes, and into his excuse for a
bedroom. He ran his hands across his unmade bed, in search of his wallet. There was still a tube
of joy jelly on the bed, from the last time he'd masturbated. He tossed it out of the way, getting
sticky on his hands, because the cap wasn't fastened all the way. Ahh there it was, on the
headboard. His bulging wallet.Heh yeah right, his wallet was so empty he had to keep the stock
photos in it so that his ID wouldn't fall out. He grabbed it and deposited it into his back pocket,
heading for the door and where the fuck was his bike ? Great, just great. Someone had stolen his
Goddamn bike. If this was supposed to be good luck, it sure didn't look like it was starting out that
way. Todd was pissed. He was even more determined now to get to the gas station and buy that
lottery ticket. He slammed the door shut, and reached into his pants to grab the keys. Fuck! he
cried. His finger had brushed the bullet, and for some reason it was hot. He gathered himself and
locked the door. Feeling the slug through his pants he could tell that it was indeed hot. And now he
could feel the heat on his leg. He made an attempt to reach into his pocket and get it out. But
when his fingers came into contact with it, it seemed to get even hotter. He guessed he could
leave it alone for now, but he sure was curious. He made sure he put his keys in his other pocket,
and headed off to the bus stop. It was a fair distance, but despite all that had happened, Todd
felt up to the walk. He was full of energy. He arrived at the stop faster than he ever had before.
There were already a few people waiting. The bench held what appeared to be a young couple with
a baby. Crowding them was a fat black woman with a pink hat on. She had a hairy mole on her
upper lip. The hair was curling up and into her nose. Todd thought about reaching out and plucking
the hair from the scaly mole. He laughed off the proposition. Just then from over his shoulder he
heard "hey, hey buddy" Todd felt a tap on his shoulder and turned around. In front of him was a
man whom had clearly seen better days. He was very dirty, greasy dirty. And the smell was as
offensive as a bowl of fermented dog shit. "Can I bum a dollar for the fare ?" The man asked.
Todd was just about to say "no, I am sorry I don't" when what felt like an electric shock emanated
from the bullet, shot through his testicles and down to his toes. It hurt like a sonofabitch, But he
was unable to cry out, or jump, or react in any way. The electricity stopped, and he felt ok. He
again tried to tell the bum no. Zap! even harder this time. Todd thought he may have pissed his
pants a little. "Yes," Todd said. And braced himself. No shock. He pulled out his wallet and handed
the bum one of the only 3 dollars he had. "Thank you kindly" he said, and crumpled the dollar in
his fist. Right about now the bus pulled up. Todd patiently waited as the couple and child, mole
woman, and bum walked up the steps to pay their fare. And as Todd prepared to insert his money
into the dollar bill slot, the driver held up her hand. "We're at capacity sir" She said. Todd looked
down the aisle just in time to see the bum plop his ass down in the last available seat. "you'll have
to wait for the next bus" "I can stand up" Todd countered. "New regulations, no standing allowed"
she said. "Sorry." Todd didn't say anything else, just drew back his dollar and walked off of the
bus. He would have to wait. if he hadn't given that damn bum his money, he would have been
able to get on. He took a seat on the bench. "Need Legal Advice ?" The ad on the bench read,
"Understand Your Rights And Let West And Daniels, Stand Up For You!" Todd tried to get as
comfortable as he could, leaned back, and prepared to wait for the next bus.
Glancing back over his life while he waited, Todd recalled that most of the decisions he
made in the past, had turned out one way or another, to be the wrong ones. In high
school, he chose the wrong people to hang around. Chose the wrong classes. Taking
on a part time job before graduating, had caused his grades to slip, keeping him
out of the only college that was affordable. Being stupid with his credit had led to
him being unable to qualify for a decent student loan. Decisions decisions. Perhaps
the worst one was cheating on his girlfriend. April had been a beautiful girl, who
loved him very much. She was on her way to a decent career after high school. She
came from money, and her parents were wealthy indeed. What she had seen in him
Todd never could figure. But she loved him. At least until Barbara came around,
with her pointy nipples and no bra. It was a moment of weakness, he had pleaded
with April. It would never happen again. Well it never did, but not because of any
willpower on his part. April promptly broke things off, and the two went their
seperate ways. That had been all Barbara had wanted anyhow. She had some kind
of long running jealousy thing with April. She had been continually shown up until
they were Sophomores in high school. That was about the time old Barb realized
that April wasn't satisfying the boys in that special way. She found out that when
guys knew she would get down on her knees and hum, and April wouldn't, the
gentlemen started paying her way more attention than that amateur April. Except
for him. Barbara had tried over and over to seduce him, to get him away from April.
Till that sad sad day when he let the wrong head do the thinking, And he wonders if
Barb didn't run tell April the second she had a chance. Now April owned her own
accounting business. She had her own office. She had worked hard, and had the
help of her family, and for more than 10 years now, she had been highly successful.
With one slip of the dick, he had traded that possible future away. He wonders how
different things would have been. Wishes there had been a warning, something to
keep him from making that life changing mistake. All of a sudden, his hands were
around Barbara's neck. He could hear her gasping for breath.
"Please stop".
He was crushing her windpipe with his bare hands. He felt the bullet in his pocket
pulse.
"Die you fucking bitch! It's all your fault!"
"Help someone...hhh"
She struggled to speak as he forced his nails into her flesh, drawing blood. The
bullet was making his whole body feel warm and pleasant. Her eyes were popping
almost out of their sockets. His strength was unending, he felt so nice. Feeling her
squirm
"You should get on the bus" Barbara said.
"What?"
As suddenly as she appeared, she was gone, and he was left clutching at the air.
The bullet had returned to normal, and the bus was just pulling up. Must have been
some sort of crazy daydream. He paid the fare and sat looking out the window.
When they arrived at his stop, Todd exited the bus. As he approached the gas
station, he could hear "Don't Fear The Reaper" playing on the radio near the pumps.
"Come On Baby..." the singer beckoned, then promised, "We'll Be Able To Fly..."
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