The Strange, Lonely Life of Brian Davies - Part II
Brian and the creature have a chat.
The creature had allowed Brian to get dressed before going any further. "I'd just be more comfortable, alright." He'd told it.
"If you have to," it relented with what might have been a grin "but I have seen you naked before. Many times, in fact."
"Okay." Brian said as a look of disgust mixed with confusion washed over his face. "We're gonna come back to that, but I really would like to get some clothes on first."
He wondered how he should dress for such an occasion. The pajamas he was planning on seemed entirely inappropriate, a suit a bit too formal. As he threw his feet into a pair of jeans he couldn't help but reflect on his strange, lonely life. Was it about to end? He didn't think so. The creature did not act like it wanted to hurt him. There were so many unanswered questions, though, and this thing in his home appeared to have some answers. The urge to go out the window and down the fire escape was outweighed by the need to solve some life-long mysteries. He took the 9 mm from his nightstand, stuck it in his waistband, and went to find out what the hell the last thirty-two years had been about.
Brian thought he heard the television as he walked down the hallway, although he'd turned it off before showering. Sure enough, the bathroom was monster-free. He continued down the hallway toward the living room where he found the creature watching porn on his 52 inch plasma.
"I still can't believe the academy overlooked this work of art," it commented while a woman on-screen got well-acquainted with some of the men in her office.
"Yeah, I'm gonna have to shut this off now. I think it'll be a little distracting and I've got a lot that I want to cover."
As he walked toward the television the creature chuckled then threw up its hands as Brian looked in its direction. "I'll tell ya anything ya need to know- just don't shoot me." its smile exposing its sharp black teeth. "It's in your walk," he said, answering Brian's expression "you're always so obvious when you're carrying that thing. You should be glad a cop never saw you walking like that on the street. You'd do hard time in this city for unlicensed concealment."
Brian shut off the television and sat on the couch. "Thanks for the advice. Now, can you let me in on what the hell this is all about? Who are you and what do you want from me?"
"I'm Jeff. It's great to finally meet you." It extended its hand, or claw, or whatever you might call that gruesome appendage. Brian looked at it apprehensively for a second and, with a shrug, held out his own hand. As they exchanged that age-old greeting he felt an odd kinship with the creature, though what it was that they could have in common was incomprehensible to him.
"Jeff? Not as biblical or medieval as I was expecting. I figured you to be more of a Garagnia or something like that."
"No," the creature sighed "Jeff is the name my parents gave me, although it never got a lot of use- me being still-born and all." The statement was made so nonchalantly that Brian was sure he'd misheard it. Jeff could sense his unease. "This surprises you? I was a still-born fetus. If I told you I was an alien or a demon would you find that more plausible?"
Brian Davies, one of the most successful salesman in his industry and, therefore, one of the most gregarious, was at a complete loss for words. Zig Zigler himself may not have had an answer to that. He tried to gather his thoughts. There were a thousand questions that needed to be asked. Brian decided to go with the most important first. "That's interesting, and I'm sorry for your..." he wondered if loss was the right word here "...situation..."
"No, you're not." Jeff interrupted. "Stop trying to sell me a policy."
Brian laughed. "You're right. I'm not. Sorry." He laughed again. "I guess I'm not sorry about that either. You know what I mean." Brian had spent his childhood learning to fake emotions once he realized how odd everyone thought he was for not showing any. As he got older he got better at it and eventually figured out that the more he mastered this talent, the more people wanted to do things for him, to give him what he desired, and eventually, to buy stuff from him. Responses like "I'm sorry to hear that" or "I know how you feel" became second nature, even though those words meant as much to him as did hieroglyphics.
"What does this- do you- have to do with me? Why are you here?" Brian asked, getting back to the matter at hand.
"Because you are one of us, Brian. We are Those Who Were Born Dead."
Brian laughed long and hard at this. He'd figured out early that you didn't need emotions to find something funny. It was more of a reaction then an emotion and his great sense of humor was only real things about him. His laughter was genuine. "That's obvious. When I opened that shower curtain, I thought I was looking in the mirror. We're like twins." Jeff was laughing now as well and Brian was doubled over, holding his stomach. He straightened up and tried to stay focused. "Seriously, Jeff, I look like a normal thirty-two year old man, and you look like an oompa-loompa after extensive chemotherapy. Plus, there's the fact that I was very much alive when I was born, and still am to this day."
"That's what we don't understand."
"If you have to," it relented with what might have been a grin "but I have seen you naked before. Many times, in fact."
"Okay." Brian said as a look of disgust mixed with confusion washed over his face. "We're gonna come back to that, but I really would like to get some clothes on first."
He wondered how he should dress for such an occasion. The pajamas he was planning on seemed entirely inappropriate, a suit a bit too formal. As he threw his feet into a pair of jeans he couldn't help but reflect on his strange, lonely life. Was it about to end? He didn't think so. The creature did not act like it wanted to hurt him. There were so many unanswered questions, though, and this thing in his home appeared to have some answers. The urge to go out the window and down the fire escape was outweighed by the need to solve some life-long mysteries. He took the 9 mm from his nightstand, stuck it in his waistband, and went to find out what the hell the last thirty-two years had been about.
Brian thought he heard the television as he walked down the hallway, although he'd turned it off before showering. Sure enough, the bathroom was monster-free. He continued down the hallway toward the living room where he found the creature watching porn on his 52 inch plasma.
"I still can't believe the academy overlooked this work of art," it commented while a woman on-screen got well-acquainted with some of the men in her office.
"Yeah, I'm gonna have to shut this off now. I think it'll be a little distracting and I've got a lot that I want to cover."
As he walked toward the television the creature chuckled then threw up its hands as Brian looked in its direction. "I'll tell ya anything ya need to know- just don't shoot me." its smile exposing its sharp black teeth. "It's in your walk," he said, answering Brian's expression "you're always so obvious when you're carrying that thing. You should be glad a cop never saw you walking like that on the street. You'd do hard time in this city for unlicensed concealment."
Brian shut off the television and sat on the couch. "Thanks for the advice. Now, can you let me in on what the hell this is all about? Who are you and what do you want from me?"
"I'm Jeff. It's great to finally meet you." It extended its hand, or claw, or whatever you might call that gruesome appendage. Brian looked at it apprehensively for a second and, with a shrug, held out his own hand. As they exchanged that age-old greeting he felt an odd kinship with the creature, though what it was that they could have in common was incomprehensible to him.
"Jeff? Not as biblical or medieval as I was expecting. I figured you to be more of a Garagnia or something like that."
"No," the creature sighed "Jeff is the name my parents gave me, although it never got a lot of use- me being still-born and all." The statement was made so nonchalantly that Brian was sure he'd misheard it. Jeff could sense his unease. "This surprises you? I was a still-born fetus. If I told you I was an alien or a demon would you find that more plausible?"
Brian Davies, one of the most successful salesman in his industry and, therefore, one of the most gregarious, was at a complete loss for words. Zig Zigler himself may not have had an answer to that. He tried to gather his thoughts. There were a thousand questions that needed to be asked. Brian decided to go with the most important first. "That's interesting, and I'm sorry for your..." he wondered if loss was the right word here "...situation..."
"No, you're not." Jeff interrupted. "Stop trying to sell me a policy."
Brian laughed. "You're right. I'm not. Sorry." He laughed again. "I guess I'm not sorry about that either. You know what I mean." Brian had spent his childhood learning to fake emotions once he realized how odd everyone thought he was for not showing any. As he got older he got better at it and eventually figured out that the more he mastered this talent, the more people wanted to do things for him, to give him what he desired, and eventually, to buy stuff from him. Responses like "I'm sorry to hear that" or "I know how you feel" became second nature, even though those words meant as much to him as did hieroglyphics.
"What does this- do you- have to do with me? Why are you here?" Brian asked, getting back to the matter at hand.
"Because you are one of us, Brian. We are Those Who Were Born Dead."
Brian laughed long and hard at this. He'd figured out early that you didn't need emotions to find something funny. It was more of a reaction then an emotion and his great sense of humor was only real things about him. His laughter was genuine. "That's obvious. When I opened that shower curtain, I thought I was looking in the mirror. We're like twins." Jeff was laughing now as well and Brian was doubled over, holding his stomach. He straightened up and tried to stay focused. "Seriously, Jeff, I look like a normal thirty-two year old man, and you look like an oompa-loompa after extensive chemotherapy. Plus, there's the fact that I was very much alive when I was born, and still am to this day."
"That's what we don't understand."
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