The Incredible Mr. Jinx

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Horror  |  House: Booksie Classic
A man finally realizes who his ''best friend'' is.

Submitted: March 16, 2007

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Submitted: March 16, 2007





You wouldn't believe who my best friend is.

No; it's not my dog. I don't have one. But, let me give you a little background info on my friend - my BEST friend - and see if you can figure out who he is.

He is three inches tall, very thin, pale skinned - except for a fairly unnoticable scar - and very cold natured, due to an accident that damaged his circulation. He can't see, smell, or hear, but he can talk to me, through the power of mental telepathy.

Guessed who he is yet?

No, of course not.

Now, if you are one of those paticularly nasty minded individuals, who lets his girlfriend put monikers on his body parts, your first guess would most likely be that I was referring to my penis.

But, you'd be wrong.

Got any more guesses up your sleeve? No, I thought not.

Okay, okay, I'll tell you who he is; he's my finger.

Yeah, you heard me right; my fucking finger. My left index finger, to be exact. And what is so special about my little friend, you ask?

 He's an amputee.

 Yeah, that's right, about 15 months ago, the tip of my index finger was severed in a work related accident. And why does that make him my best friend, you ask?

Because my insurance company paid me $ 15,600 in damages, that's why.

Yeah, you could safely say that me and Mr. Jinx - that's his name - had become pretty close since then. But, the problem was, the more we did together, {and spending money} the more we slowly but surely drifted apart.

Let me explain.


At first, I thought the money had been a blessing; then, as time went on, I had begun to notice that I suddenly had alot more ''best friends'' than I'd ever had before, some of which included several ''ladies'' who suddenly found me simply irresistable, especially when I was spreading the green around. Hell, they would have given me a blowjob while wearing a gasoline soaked bikini while diving headfirst into hell as long as I kept spending my money on them.

I was broke, homeless, and alone in less than three months.

But, I don't hold it against Mr. Jinx; it wasn't his fault. He had nothing to do with it, he was just an innocent and unfortunately deformed bystander who'd have to live the rest of his life in arthritic pain and misery.

  But, being my best friend to the end after all, he came through, came up witth a logical solution to my - our problem.

You see, despite his deformity, he can still bend and grip things. He's got a good grip, too. Strong enough to keep a really tight hold on the handgrip of a .357 magnum, while I press the barrel against my temple, slowly cocking the hammer back. and Mr. Jinx; friends to the end.

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