(This was written in the early 90s. It was published in the Pittsburgh Commodore Group newsletter, of which I was a member. I do not know the publish date, as I only found my story original and not the newsletter it was in. I find it amusing to see this again after all these years. It was inspired by a fund raising ad I saw on Channel 16, WQEX. For the younger readers, feel free to ask me for explanations. The technology cited in this one is very ancient now. I have done very minimal editing to it, preferring to present it as original as it was on paper.)
My eyes were burning and head was pounding. I couldn't make any schemes for wealth beyond the Dreams of Avarice work. Disillusioned, I sat down at my Commodore 64C and decided to be bored by TV.
True to form, nothing worth watching was on. In sheer desperation, I switched over to the local public TV channel, WQEX.
Almost immediately, I flipped off to another channel. I didn't need to listen to a pledge break where they whine for members. I barely missed being thoroughly sick.
In my anger, it took me a few centuries to realise the channel hadn't changed. Great, I thought, now my stupid TV doesn't want to work. Totally dismayed, I unplugged my TV and trudged back to my computer.
I activated the computer, monitor and disk drive, wondering what to do on my 64C. I suddenly remembered that I'd recently hooked up a 1200 baud modem. Eager to test it out, I got online with the Pittsburgh Commodore Group Bulletin Board. I was in the process of uploading my story when a flash of lightning illuminated the sky outside.
Absolutely, positively bloody well great, I thought sourly, cursing weathermen everywhere. Rather than run the risk of blowing up or frying my 64, I decided to turn everything off. Unwillingly, I reached over to shut down. Just a simple flick of the switch and it'll...
Continue running without a second's hesitation?
This must not be my day for electrical equipment, I thought. I reached over and eyed the wall socket. As I stretched my arm out, a sickening smell assulted my nose. I turned myself around to locate the source and...
Received the shock of my lives.
For issuing forth from my Commodore 64C was a sinister black cloud. It assumed the shape of Jason and was holding a meat cleaver and a cellular phone.
Cellular phone? Wait a second...
I hardly hesitated as I picked up and tossed the chair at it. When the thing barely slowed down, I opted for Plan B. I ran
Outside it was raining in torrents. I ran and ran for a time through the storm. At one point I paused to catch my breath.
The thing's fist closed like a vice around my throat. As the cleaver was raised, I understood that I'd never ever scoff at or make a pledge again...
I awoke in a cold sweat. Silly, I told myself, to be afraid of a stupid pledge. Laughing at myself, I promptly fell asleep.
Outside the Doctour's house, someone opened his eyes. There was nothing wrong with that. Except he was holding a meat cleaver and a cellular phone.
And the eyes were glowing red.
Blood red.
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