The Splotchy Virus
Here is the start of the meme.
This is the beginning of the story:
I had been shuffling around the house for a few hours and already felt tired. The doorbell rang. I opened the front door and saw a figure striding away from the house, quickly and purposefully. I looked down and saw a bulky envelope. I picked it up. The handwriting was smudged and cramped, and I could only make out a few words.
Bubs continues with:
I looked up and down the street but didn’t see any delivery truck, or any car for that matter. No FedEx, no UPS , no creepy-looking porno'd-out conversion van with a half-assed delivery service sign taped to its side. Nothing. It's like delivery man just disappeared. I stepped back inside, re-set the deadbolts and took a closer look at the envelope.
Mentally I ran through the checklist of letter bomb warning signs. The handwriting on the envelope, smudged and cramped as it was, was laid out in a tiny, obsessively neat block lettering. It practically screamed recently-de-institutionalized loner with time on his hands. No ticking or whirring sounds, that’s good. No odd smells, no leaks or stains on the package. Check. Weight seemed evenly distributed, that’s good too. I decided to open it.
Inside I found a plane ticket to Pensacola, a business card for a lawyer in Niceville, five crisp $100 bills and a four page handwritten note. Well. This was different. I poured a cup of coffee, threw some meat to the dogs to stop em barking, and sat down to read.And now I pick up the story line:
As I sat down to go over the contents of the letter, I noticed snapping and grinding noises coming from the dogs. I made a mental note to myself to de-bone the Yak hips before I give them to Cujo and Sampson next time.
Since losing my job as a stunt penis in adult films, I was running awfully short on cash. I ran my hands over the five Benjamins and felt a stirring in my loins and thought to myself, "Great, now you start to cooporate!"
But the 500 bucks was only a start on trying to get rid of my bills and stay one step ahead of Guido and the boys. I needed a break, a good run of luck. Maybe lady luck was waiting in Pensacola, cause I sure hope I didn't have to go to Niceville. I spent a week there one afternoon...
The first paragraph of the letter read like an email from a nice man in Nigeria, with the promise of a ton of money. Before I read on, I picked up the card and dialed the number.
It's now up to these brave blogging souls to continue:
If you want to play, link to the original post, and tag some more folks!