Read the Fine Print!

Hello All:

Over the Christmas holiday I received two bottles of what I would describe as jumbo bottles of wine. You’ve probably seen them on display at one time or another at an Italian restaurant. I'm not sure what their actual size was, but I would estimate them to be approximately a gallon each.

And so from the night of Christmas until the end of this weekend, I finished off both bottles of wine—resting some days in between. As I finished the final drop of wine from the second bottle on Sunday evening, I set my glass down and declared, “Both bottles have officially been finished off.”

How do I feel about this accomplishment?

I'm quite proud, actually. And it was nice to have nearly a nearly inexhaustible supply of wine throughout the holiday. I never had to worry about running out. But I am sad now that my holiday wine is gone. That's okay, this weekend I will be sure to run to the store and pick up more for myself.

***

Today's brand new short story is a reminder to always read the fine print before entering a deal with a stranger.

Read the Fine Print!

Bonnie and Lori have been best friends for years. They met shortly after college at their new jobs, and have been very close ever since. It isn't uncommon for them to meet after work on a Friday night at some lounge or restaurant for a few drinks and maybe dinner. This is what they did on a recent Friday night. They met at the upscale Tollway Nightclub located a few blocks away from where they work.

Usually Bonnie enjoys a few shots of liquor before dinner, followed by a few more glasses of wine after her meal. Tonight she enjoyed a red zinfandel—her third glass—after finishing off a large appetizer platter with her best, Lori. By now, she was extremely buzzed and nearly drunk. It was then that seemingly out of nowhere a young man approached the table where Bonnie and Lori enjoyed there after dinner drinks.

Bonnie was certainly uninhibited at that moment from all the alcohol that she had consumed. And she initially believed that the young man had come over to hit on her. So she was sure to invitingly smile at him with a hint of seduction.

But what was this?

It almost seemed like the young man was nothing more than a salesperson that was there to sell something. “Excuse me, ma'am…” begin the young man. “I was wondering if you would be interested in earning $100 this evening by participating in an experiment.”

“An experiment???” nearly shouted half-drunken Bonnie with excitement. It was followed by a giggle. “What sort of experiment do you have in mind with me?”

The young man remained professional while pointing out, “Well, by the looks of you I can see that you have had plenty to drink.”

Bonnie’s friend, Lori, interrupted by laughing out loud. “Oh yes, she has had plenty to drink!”

“Well that's good.” calmly answered the young man. “She would be perfect for the experiment.”

“And what's the experiment?” quickly asked Bonnie with a beaming smile.

“Well we would like to measure the chemical reaction of alcohol against chemicals processed in your body. It's a very easy process, and you won't have to worry about a thing. And let me remind you that you will be earning $100 for participating. Plus it only takes about 15 minutes. You have nothing to lose. What do you say; are you in?”

Bonnie shrugged her shoulders, “Sure, why not?”

“Very good!” exclaimed the young man. “Your friend can wait here while we go to the room where the experiment is set up.”

It was then that Bonnie felt a bit uneasy with the arrangement. She realized that in a nearly drunken state she was leaving her friend to go to a private and isolated place with the stranger. How safe would that be? But the young man wasn't bad looking at all. If he did try to take advantage of Bonnie, she would surely enjoy it. And it had been a long time since Bonnie got lucky—about six weeks since her last time.

And so Bonnie stepped away from the table and left her friend, Lori, alone. She followed the young man to the elevator and rode it down to the basement where she continued to follow him through a hallway, and into what appeared to be a workshop with small table at the center. “Please take a seat.” invited the young man. “By the way, my name is Bob.” He stuck out his hand in a motion to shake.

Bonnie accepted Bob’s handshake. “Nice to meet, Bob. I am Bonnie.”

Both sat down at the table. The young man, Bob, opened notebook and removed a sheet of paper. It was actually an agreement for Bonnie to sign so she could participate in the experiment. “This just spells out the details of how our experiment we will measure the chemical reactions in your body as you process alcohol.” explained Bob. “Like said before, in exchange you will receive $100 for participating.”

Bonnie was actually feeling quite drunk at that moment. She laughed hysterically before commenting; “Now I need to sign a contract with you?” Throwing all caution to the wind, she merely shrugged her shoulders; grabbed the pen located on the table, and boldly signed her name. It was then that a door opened from the opposite side of the room. In walked an older man who wore a lab coat with gloves. He pushed in front of him a cart with a glass tank seated on top. The older man looked to be like some sort of scientist.

“What's that?” asked Bonnie, now feeling a bit apprehensive with the new presence of the older man who had a glass tank.

“Try to relax…” reassured the older man. Everything will be ok.”

In her near-drunken state, Bonnie didn’t notice that the younger man, Bob, had stood up from his seat and walked to an area behind her. As the older man opened the lid on the tank, Bonnie grew all the more apprehensive. She was about to stand up and walk out. But then a pair of arms reached from behind and held Bonnie down. The arms were Bob’s, and they proceeded to wrap rope around her and the chair in means to tie her in place.

“What the hell are you doing? demanded Bonnie. “Let me go!” By now, she was firmly tied into the chair and there was no way to escape.

“Try not to worry.” urged Bob. “It looks like you are getting a bit nervous. The agreement you signed with us states that if needed, restraints will be used on you during the experiment.”

“What???? No!!!” cried out Bonnie. “Let me out of here!”

Bob walked around and sat down in the seat across from Bonnie. “But it was stated in the contract that you would not be released, no matter how much you begged. It’s written, here, in the fine print.” Bob held up the contract to show Bonnie.

“Unbelievable…” complained Bonnie. “This is not right.” She looked over to the older man who now picked up from the inside of the glass tank what appeared to be a rattlesnake. Bonnie wanted no part of a snake!  “No!!!” she screamed. “I don’t want to do something if it involves a snake!”

“Sorry…” rejected the older man wearing gloves with snake in hand. “A deal is a deal. You receive $100 for participating in our experiment. You signed a contract and there is no way out.” He positioned the rattlesnake by its neck and replaced its fangs against a milking glass. Immediately, venom poured in.

By now, Bonnie was turning ill at the sight of a mean rattlesnake dripping sickly venom into the glass. “What are you going to do with that?” she demanded.

The older man in lab coat did not answer. He simply set the rattlesnake back in the tank and quickly shut the lid. Then he removed a hypodermic needle from his side pocket and placed it in the venom at the bottom of the glass.

“Tell me you are not going to inject me with that!” cried Bonnie.

But the old man said not a word as the snake venom was drawn into the shot.

“Please stop!” pleaded Bonnie. “I don’t want to do this!”

“It will be okay…” reassured Bob. “And there’s no backing out. It's spelled out in the contract under the fine print. We will be injecting you with a small dose of snake venom to see how your body reacts under a near inebriated state.

The older man in lab coat approached Bonnie as she let out bloodcurdling screams. In horror she watched as the needle stuck into her arm.

Now what?

The End!