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 an edgy nervousness instead of 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.
"Damn!" 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 if Rod Sterling would be standing on the other side.
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 man's 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. He could barely see his pale watery blue eyes beneath the brim of the black fedora. He felt more than saw the dark man's cold gaze as the expressionless face studied the newcomer.
"You wish to unsubscribe?" he said, with a hint of amusement in his voice but no trace of a smile on his thin snarled lips. "You come to me with a need to unsubscribe?" he said, his gravelly 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 shower of spittle, "Why? Tell me why it is that you wish to unsubscribe."
The newcomer felt fear now creeping up his spine, the blood draining from his face. "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 can’t do more than 300 miles in a day without trailering it," added the newcomer.
He realized in a heartbeat 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 List 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 shot back his bourbon, immediately refilling the dirty glass from a large bottle, whose black and white label said merely “Bourbon” .
"I guess I could have just told him that one email to <mailto:ldrider-request@ibdone.org>* would do the trick," 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 Bon Appetit...
Anonymous
(research shows most likely Cy Galley, small mods made by me)
*ldrider-request@ibdone.org
unsubscribe [password] [address=<address>]
Unsubscribe from the mailing list. If given, your password must match your current password. If omitted, a confirmation email will be sent to the unsubscribing address. If you wish to unsubscribe an address other than the address you sent this request from, you may specify `address=<address>' (no brackets around the email address, and no quotes!)
"Damn!" 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 if Rod Sterling would be standing on the other side.
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 man's 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. He could barely see his pale watery blue eyes beneath the brim of the black fedora. He felt more than saw the dark man's cold gaze as the expressionless face studied the newcomer.
"You wish to unsubscribe?" he said, with a hint of amusement in his voice but no trace of a smile on his thin snarled lips. "You come to me with a need to unsubscribe?" he said, his gravelly 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 shower of spittle, "Why? Tell me why it is that you wish to unsubscribe."
The newcomer felt fear now creeping up his spine, the blood draining from his face. "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 can’t do more than 300 miles in a day without trailering it," added the newcomer.
He realized in a heartbeat 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 List 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 shot back his bourbon, immediately refilling the dirty glass from a large bottle, whose black and white label said merely “Bourbon” .
"I guess I could have just told him that one email to <mailto:ldrider-request@ibdone.org>* would do the trick," 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 Bon Appetit...
Anonymous
(research shows most likely Cy Galley, small mods made by me)
*ldrider-request@ibdone.org
unsubscribe [password] [address=<address>]
Unsubscribe from the mailing list. If given, your password must match your current password. If omitted, a confirmation email will be sent to the unsubscribing address. If you wish to unsubscribe an address other than the address you sent this request from, you may specify `address=<address>' (no brackets around the email address, and no quotes!)
