Here in is a short story about how to unsubscribe to the CR list that came to me this morning. Much better reading than what the republicans did or didn't do yesterday in Washington DC
The cold fog thickened noticeably as the newcomer hurried towards his destination. He pulled his heavy overcoat around his neck a little more tightly.? This part? of the city was not a place to tarry.? Thieves and whores were the only permanent residents here.? Even the cops rolled through these streets with a nervousness and an edge to their normal macho banter. Trouble and misery closed around everyone who ventured into this pustule of urban blight like a leech on a warm vein.
"Darn!", he hissed under his breath as he stepped on something soft that squealed and skittered off into the darkness and dankness of the mist. It can't be much farther he thought.? It mustn't be much farther. The sickly yellow flicker of light from a street lamp shone dimly through the fog as he quickened his pace.
There it was.? The doorway seemed to be just blackness without definition.
As he got closer, two winos eyed him suspiciously through bloodshot and yellowed eyes.? He hustled past them, their breath leaving a rank scent that lingered on his clothes.? The door pushed inward and the newcomer was inside.
The room was smoky and dim.? The bar stank of liquor and broken dreams. Several tables decorated the periphery.? The man he had come to see was sitting at one of those tables and beckoned him over to sit.? The man was darkly clothed and utterly shapeless.? He might have weighed three hundred pounds... or he may have been only bone.? His shape was indecipherable.? The dark mans eyes were gazing down at the dirty glass in his hand, half filled with cheap whiskey.? He had been reading a glossy magazine filled with lurid and obscene images.? He folded it tenderly and stuffed it quickly into his coat pocket like a vulture gobbling a rotten piece of flesh.
"What is it you want of me?", the dark man asked, not lifting his eyes from the glass.? His voice rumbled deep in his belly like a toad.
"I need you to tell me how to unsubscribe", said the newcomer in as even a tone as he could muster.
The dark man looked up from his glass slowly to gaze at the newcomer. His eyes were a pale watery blue.? And his gaze lingered on the newcomer.
"You wish to unsubscribe?", he said, with a hint of amusement in his voice but no trace of a smile on his thick pasty lips.? "You come to me with a need to unsubscribe?", he said, his voice getting louder now and any hint of amusement gone.? He sucked in his breath and hissed through his teeth spraying the newcomer with a repulsive mist of spittle, "Why? Tell me why it is that you wish to unsubscribe."
The newcomer felt fear now creeping up his spine.? "I don't have the time to sort through all the posts" he mumbled.
The dark man sat unmoved, his eyes stared at the newcomer without emotion. His eyes were cold and amphibian.
"And I sold the Mercedes and bought an Audi", added the newcomer.
He realized in a heart beat that he should not have said that.? The dark man had him by the throat with a quickness that seemed otherworldly. And the dark man squeezed that throat as the newcomer wriggled and squirmed in a voiceless scream.? The dark man pulled the newcomers face to his own until they nearly touched noses.? He breathed his fetid breath on the newcomer and a trickle of drool escaped his mouth to plop loudly on the table between them.
"Go!", he rumbled.? "Go now you fool!", he bellowed.? "Run if you can. It shall do you no good!? Once you have subscribed, all hope of ever unsubscribing is gone!? We will find you.? Your email is now ours to control.? Your email box will fill to bursting with our messages. And there is no hope for you.? There is no good deed you can do to change what you have done.? The Group will not be denied!"
And with that he released the newcomer who reeled and staggered towards the door, gagging and stumbling.? The dark man began to laugh, a low rumbling laugh that grew louder.? The newcomer fled up the streets as he had come with the croaking bellowing laughter chasing him.? He was doomed...
and he knew it.
The dark man sat back at the table in the dimly lit bar and sipped at his drink.
"I guess I could have just told him to go to classicrendevous.com and follow the instructions", he muttered under his breath. No, he smiled to himself.? That would have been all too easy.? Still chuckling to himself, he reached into his pocket and pulled out the magazine he had been reading before the newcomer interrupted him.? He quickly thumbed through the slick and edge worn pages until he found his place. He never missed a single word of each and every issue of Martha Stewart Living...
Anonymous Peter Koskinen Owner PRKBIKES LLC 9506 Collins Creek Dr Chapel Hill, NC h/o: 919.960.5871 http://www.prkbikes.com email@example.com