Death Spoon (eBook)

2

An Invitation to Join

“I always wanted to join a cult,” said Ted. He drank the last gulp of his beer and carefully placed the empty glass on the bar. The Le Paris restaurant and grill in Northridge, California, is famous with industry types and wealthy social climbers. When Ted first suggested the location, Karen didn’t seem that impressed. She had this jazz place in mind over on the Westside, but Ted didn’t think he could get a reservation in time.

“This isn’t just any cult, understand? It’s MyCult®. Be sure and use the exact link I provided,” said Karen, placing her empty martini glass next to Ted’s. “It won’t cost you anymore, but I get credit. It’s sort of an affiliate program,” Karen explained, smiling. “You understand, right?”

Ted nodded in agreement. “You can count on me,” said Ted. He signaled to the bartender for another round. Karen smiled at the man, which seemed more effective.

“I am counting on you, Ted. And one more thing . . . Don’t be a smart-ass when you’re answering the acceptance questions. Trust me, none of us find it funny.”

“You really think they can help me sell those three properties?” asked Ted. He didn’t sound convinced.

“MyCult® can do anything. Members just keep pouring in,” Karen said confidently. “We’ve got a lot of members. We tend to attract high-climbers, industry types,” said Karen.

“Yeah, well these properties are pretty exclusive,” said Ted.

Karen spun her bar stool around and stopped when she slid her right hand gently onto Ted’s inner thigh. “Listen, babe,” she whispered. “MyCult® is big, it’s global, it’s international.”

“I think I’m going to like being in MyCult®,” Ted responded, placing his right hand gently against the hip of her black leather mini skirt.

Karen looked down at his hand and back at Ted’s face. She smiled, placing her finger on the tip of his nose. “Understand this . . . there’s a price to pay for devotion,” Karen said.

“How so?” asked Ted. “Give me an example.”

Karen paused a moment to think. She looked over Ted’s shoulder and nodded. Gazing deep into Ted’s eyes, she suddenly became very serious. “Maybe you’ll get a phone call one night, instructing you to meet a lonesome old friend at some cheesy bar for cocktails,” Karen laughed, toying with Ted. “Or maybe, you’re the lone holdout in a jury because a member is in a predicament. It might be as easy as attending a party, you don’t know why, so you just go. But it also might mean never talking to your sister again,” continued Karen.

“That’s alright,” said Ted. “I don’t have any sisters.”

She took a bite of a carrot stick. “Whatever it is, don’t say no, babe,” Karen said. She stood up to leave, kissing Ted on the cheek. She smelled every bit as good as he thought she would. He wanted so badly to run his hands through her soft hair. She was a goddess. “It’s easy to join MyCult®,” Karen said. She paused, looking around the room, then back at Ted. “And only one way to get out.”

“Hey, wait!” said Ted, fumbling through his wallet for some cash to pay the bartender.

“Bye, Ted,” Karen said. She exited the double doors into the parking lot.

When Ted went to pay the tab, the bartender explained that the lady had already purchased the drinks. “Wow!” exclaimed Ted. “I didn’t even see her carrying a purse.”

That was the thing about Karen. She was as smooth as satin sheets. When Ted got to the door, her ride was waiting. She stepped in gracefully, considering the length of her skirt, and the driver closed the door firmly but considerately. The driver quickly walked around to the driver’s side, entered, and drove off. “Damn!” Ted said under his breath. “She is smoking hot.”

In a way, Ted felt a bit used. Karen had agreed to meet him, that was a positive sign, but now, he felt obligated to join MyCult®. He probably would have joined on his own anyway. He was just waiting to hear the commercials a few more times. Their marketing seemed reassuring.

MyCult® is the fast, easy way to join-a-cult. Be accepted for who you are, without any fear and guilt. With MyCult®, your personal information is secure and will never be shared or sold. If for any reason you’re not satisfied with MyCult®, just cancel your membership. Go to https://MyCult®.net to apply. It’s that easy!

If only Karen could be intrigued that easily. Ted was hoping drinks might lead to something more. The past year was more than just a dry spell. It was starting to look like the Sahara Desert of dry spells. He wasn’t selling any properties either. His last? When he unloaded the dump on Craig and Meredith. A house they could ill afford and probably would have lost anyway. The only thing Karen was interested in at this point was closing the deal with Ted joining MyCult®. Perhaps he should have held out longer. The way Ted saw it, one more drink and things could have gotten interesting.

A few weeks prior, he was ogling Karen at a dinner party at an old acquaintance’s house. He tried to start a conversation with her, but she was icy cold. Next thing he knew, she was liking all his posts online and hinting she might want to spend some time with him. I must have said something wrong tonight, Ted thought.

It was promising to be a relaxing evening when Ted arrived home at his townhouse in Van Nuys. It’s a three-story Tudor with a two-car garage. He could afford more, but he liked it because he bought the unit at the end and only shared one wall. That neighbor was a veteran who was nearly deaf. Ted pulled into the garage and walked up the stairs to the living room. His cat, Mr. Whiskers, greeted him as he closed the door.

Ted threw on some comfortable clothes, checked his mail, and fed Mr. Whiskers. Some cats prefer meat, but Mr. Whiskers was raised on dry food alone. Ted talked to the veterinarian. He was not about to risk his pet’s health to some high-fat, low-nutrition variety. Persian cats are fluffy and affectionate, but they’re prone to health issues. Only the best for Mr. Whiskers. He raised the cat since it was a kitten. Ted’s father gave it to him as a high school graduation gift before he died.

Ted removed the lid of his saltwater aquarium. He unscrewed the fish food cap and took a pinch of flakes, dropping it carefully before replacing the top. Ted only had a few fish. The others died. He never bothered replacing them. While he likes fish, he never allowed himself to feel attached to them like with Mr. Whiskers. Fish are decorations, Mr. Whiskers is family. Ted hated to think what he would do if anything ever happened to Mr. Whiskers. Sometimes it seemed as if that cat was his only friend.

Ted plunked in his lounger to complete the MyCult® application process. He skipped the video introduction by the Faithful Leader and member testimonials, clicked the “Join Now” button and paid the $29.95 introductory price using the link Karen provided.

Next, some instructions appeared and slowly disappeared. The text explained that there were no right or wrong answers, only the absolute truth. Question One appeared: “What’s one secret you will take to your grave, devotee Ted?” Ted thought for a moment. The question slowly disappeared and was replaced with an empty answer box. A timer in the lower right corner counted down from 100. Ted entered, “I caught my best friend’s wife on a date with her boss.” His answer disappeared and was replaced with a question. “Which friend?” Hundreds of photos from Ted’s online profile flashed like a strobe. It then repeated a second time. Ted typed the name Gary. The computer added Gary’s last name. It now read Gary Campbell, his wife’s name Linda Campbell, and her boss’s name Marvin T. Elliot. The text disappeared and a pop-up appeared in red text: “Don’t worry, your secret’s safe with MyCult®.”

“Damn! I hope so,” said Ted. Their relationship wasn’t what it once was. Ted hated having to hide secrets. The friendship suffered as a result. Linda had finally driven a wedge between the two. In the past, Ted would have relied on Gary for advice on dating, even joining MyCult®. Ted wondered what Gary was up to, and what he would think of Ted’s decision to join. “He probably wouldn’t approve,” said Ted.

The next question appeared: “If Iran is a rogue nation,” the letters disappeared. “And the United States of America is the most powerful government in the world,” the letters disappeared. “What does that make MyCult®?” Again, the question slowly disappeared and was replaced with an empty answer box. Ted thought about it for a moment. He remembered what Karen said. Ted entered “MyCult® is big, it’s global, and it’s international.” The text disappeared and a pop-up appeared in red text: “Correct.”

The next question appeared: “Where’s the Death Spoon, devotee Ted?” He sat up quickly and stared at the screen. The question slowly disappeared and was replaced with an empty white answer box. The timer was counting down from 100, 99, 98. “What?” Ted’s stomach sunk. “How...