We Have A Winner - Part One

“Tonight’s winning lottery number for two-hundred and thirty million dollars is: 7-8-13-19-27, and the red power-ball number is 36. Perhaps tonight will find a lucky ticket holder, a lucky winner, or winners out there. If not, next week’s jackpot drawing will be worth an estimated three-hundred and forty million dollars.”

Shuffling through my tickets, I know one of them has to have the winning numbers on it, one of them has to be the one. Hell, the rent’s due, lights bill, too. I just lost my job two days ago, my girlfriend left me for another guy; three eggs in the fridge and one can of Schlitz left. Can it get any worse?

There! There it is. 7-8-13-19-26 and … dammit! 35! Two lousy numbers, summanabitch! You’d think after buying these damn things after two years I’d win the big one, but nooooo. Just once I wish I’d get lucky.

Five outta six ain’t bad though. At least the rent’s covered for a couple months plus a case of beer. Hell, If I’d have won, I’d have bought the whole damn brewery.

I guess I better head down to the store and cash my ticket in, get some beer, some more food and some smokes; tomorrow I’ll pay the rent. That’ll leave me with about two grand. I guess I’ll have to start looking for a job because that money won’t last long. This will probably be the only time I will get this close to winning the big one.

I was surprised when I went to the corner store to cash in my ticket and I was congratulated for winning $25,000 dollars that was an awesome surprise. They asked me if they could put my name on a poster along with past winners and I said sure, why not. I found out there had been no winners for the big bucks, so I bought more tickets. The next drawing would be on a Wednesday. I decided if that I didn’t win the big one, then I’d go look for a job.

The only downside, though temporary, is that I had to go to the main lottery office in the city to actually cash in my ticket and get a check. No big deal.

__________

“Okay, let me get this straight. There isn’t any way off your world, I’m the only man on an all-female planet with an unlimited supply of Schlitz, right?”

The tall, beautiful Amazonian woman who stood before me with dozens just like her in the background replied, “Yes.”

I grinned, looked at her and said, “I can live with that.”

The commercial didn’t go quite like that, but it never hurts to dream. It’s almost eleven and time for the next lottery drawing. I swear, I’d give anything to have the winning ticket in my hands. Maybe I do. Okay, here it comes. Call my numbers, you prick.

“Good evening, ladies and gentlemen. Tonight’s winning jackpot numbers for three-hundred and forty-five million dollars; the largest jackpot in the state’s history is: 11-19-24-29-31 and the red ball is 32. Perhaps tonight will find a lucky ticket holder, a lucky winner, or winners out there. If not, the next expected jackpot is estimated to reach four-hundred and fifty million dollars.”

Going through my tickets, I thought that announcer should think of something different to say. Always the same. Never changes.

I’ll be damned! If this ain’t something. No winner’s, but I have one ticket that’s off by one number on all of them: 12-20-25-28-30 and 33. I guess tomorrow I’ll have to hit the bricks and find a job. What a revolting thought. I hate working, but it’s the only way I can keep a roof over my head.

I guess I’m just another of many destined to work for the wage and barely get by. If only there was a way to make the big bucks, I’d be on easy street and wouldn’t have to worry about crap any longer. I need a beer.

Walking into the kitchen, from behind me, I smell a strange smell. Sniffing, at first, I thought a cigarette was still lit and fell out of the ashtray to the floor and was burning a hole in the carpet.

Opening the fridge, popping the pull-tab of my Schlitz, I inhaled again, and it almost smells like—charred flesh. It’s coming from the living room for sure.

Freaky.

Going back to the living room where the smell came from, I stopped in mid-stride at what I saw staring back at me.

“Who the hell are you and how’d you get in my place?” I was shocked, angry, and scared all at the same time. What I saw was a man with fiery red eyes, a sinister smile, and smoke billowing from around his huge frame. He had to be over seven feet tall.

“I am all you have ever been and ever will be. I am your chance, your luck. I have been your misfortune, and your troubles. I have been your gamble, and now, I can be your success.”

“Talk English, why don’t you. You’re in my apartment, and I don’t really give a shit what or who you are.” I’m shaking so hard inside, my teeth hurt.

“You will. Return to your kitchen and look on the table. There is something there for you.”

Looking at him hesitantly, I walked back into my kitchen, keeping one eye on him as I do, and see a sheet of paper in old parchment style; letters written in old English form. It read: From this day forward, Brian McAble, your future is assured. All you want and have wished for will be yours until I return to claim your soul.

“If this is a joke, I ain’t laughing.”

“I assure you, Brian McAble, this is far from a joke. Once you sign the agreement, your life will change.”

“Change? How? Who put you up to this crap? Whoever did your makeup did a good job and you smell terrible.”

“I assure you,” this person waved his hand along his frame, “this is not makeup. The smell is that of death, eternal death. Secondly, you put me up to this. You said you would do anything if you had the winning ticket.

“I play no games. I play by the rules. Go back into the other room and look over your one ticket where each number was off by one.”

Walking around him, holding my breath which didn’t help much, I went into the living room, sat on my sofa and looked at the one ticket again. My eyes went wide as saucers as all the numbers changed into the winning numbers. My hands started shaking as I watched them change back into the losing numbers.

“Can’t be. This is a trick, right?”

“Yes, it is a trick, but a trick to make you rich beyond your wildest dreams. Brian McAble, I can make anything happen. If you fail to sign the agreement, you will not win. Before long, you will have nowhere to live. You will go hungry and die on your city’s streets. I don’t believe you want that, not when you have the chance to be a winner—the only winner.”

“So, I’m supposed to believe you’re the freaking devil and.…”

“No, I am not the Master, only one of his emissaries. I am one of many who recruits new death.”

That freaked me out.

“All right, already. Let me figure this out. You’re saying once I sign that piece of paper in the kitchen, I win the money. Somewhere down the road you come back and take my soul. I disappear and that’s it. Have I got it right so far?”

“Crudely said, but correct. As it states below in the agreement, once you are financially unable to take care of and meet any and all obligations, I will return to claim what is mine. Agreed?”

“And if I don’t agree?”

“Then the offer is rescinded, and I will be gone, and your life will begin to go on a downward spiral.”

It was a gag. Had to be. But where did this guy come from? My front door was locked, and all my windows are closed. He doesn’t look like what I’ve always pictured a devil or what a devil’s assistant would look like. He has no red horns, no tail, and no pitchfork; but his face is a pasty-color and he’s dressed in black. Those red eyes hold death in them.

“Brian McAble, there isn’t much time left. You want riches, wealth, and power. I can give all of that to you once you sign the agreement. After all, it is what you want, what you have always wanted.”

I hadn’t noticed before, but I’m sweating badly. My shirt feels like a second skin. My hands are shaking, and I feel as if I’m about to piss my pants. This guy makes me nervous as—well, that place he comes from.

Getting up from the sofa, I went back to the kitchen table, sat down, and stared at the contract agreement. Just below the agreement it stated: Failure to maintain financial stability and/or obligations will result in forfeiture of your soul and will be withdrawn to the Domain of the Master to be placed in servitude.

I got to thinking that if this is for real, I’m on my way to becoming an uptown guy. If it wasn’t, it was on hell of a prank. “What the hell.” I signed and then looked up at him realizing what I just said. “Sorry.”

He didn’t twitch a muscle other than to take the contract and fold it gingerly, tucked in into the dark cloud surrounding him and began laughing.

“Have the fun you have always wished for, Brian McAble. I shall call upon you twice. The next time, shall we say, will be a reminder of our contract. The second time will be when I come for you. Remember this; this isn’t like one of your jobs you can walk away from when you feel like, and unlike your past responsibilities; this is one contract, one obligation you cannot run from and hide in obscurity. I will find you easily enough.”

I blinked the sweat from my eyes and that quickly, I’m alone. If it hadn’t been for that terrible smell throughout the apartment, I would have never believed this actually happened.

Going back to the living room, sitting on the sofa, I looked at my lottery ticket. I began laughing loudly. The numbers were all there as they were called. 11-19-24-29-31 and 32.

Downing the rest of my beer, I went to the bathroom, stripped away my sweaty clothes from my equally sweaty body, turned on the cold water, soaped myself to rid my body of the smell, that stench which seemed to coat every part of me. Death.

Grabbing a towel, I dried off, leaving the towel wrapped around my waist and go to the fridge to pop open another beer. Walking back to the living room, plopping back onto my sofa, and fired up another smoke, and take another long look at the ticket. I sort of smile. I’m a winner.

I think.