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Rated: 13+ · Other · Death · #1413549
Come on over to my place...
I'm the kind of guy nobody ever wants to meet. Doesn't matter if they're young or old, pretty or ugly, fat or thin, rich or poor - a date with me is regarded as bumping into Old Satan himself, and you don't need me to tell you how to feel about that.
         Yet just as sure rain falls from the sky and birds fly south in the winter, sooner or later you and I are going to rendezvous. May not be today, may not even be twenty years from now, but whether you like it or not (and probably when you least expect it) you and I will share some time together.
         This is how it will happen:
         Two people you've never met before will come and get you. I hope for your sake they are kind and gentle, and were it in my power to make sure of this I would honestly do so. But your escorts will be as strange to me as they are to you, and if at some point in your brief journey they should tell humiliating jokes about the way you look then I apologise on their behalf. Their task is mundane and sometimes a bout of lively banter takes their mind off what they're doing. It's harmless and not in the least bit personal, I can assure you of that, but I wish things were different.
         When you arrive I'll treat you in the manner with which you deserve. I'll talk to you and console and tell you the kind of day I'm having, and through all of this I'll be making sure you're as comfortable as possible so that your stay is nothing like you could have imagined before fate delivered you to my humble domain.
         Once I can be certain that I have made you as comfortable and welcome as you rightly deserve, the we shall talk. I'll tell you everything there is to know about me, nothing will be left unsaid. And if at times during our conversation I seem a little sad then it is only because I'll be wishing we had met earlier, under different circumstances, and that I wouldn't have to do what always comes next when someone like you pays me a visit.
         Next I'll don my white laboratory coat, pull on rubber gloves, check to make sure I have everything I need in the instrument tray, and with a razor sharp scalpel I'll set about finding out the reason you came to visit me. And I will find out.
         Whether you want me to or not.
         I will find out.
© Copyright 2008 Bob Martin (robertmartin at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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