Jerry continues his story, pt 2

The original owner of the strange remote finally caught up with Jerry on the following Tuesday. That was how long it took him to find a gun.

Jerry hadn't let the remote out of his sight since Saturday night, except for stashing it in his home safe when he slept. And even then, Jerry was scared to leave it there - he had stayed up all through Saturday night worrying about the remote and then fell back on sleeping pills to forget about it long enough to get some shut-eye. First thing in the morning both Monday and Tuesday, he practically tore his safe open again to make sure it was still there, afraid it would turn into snake or a flower or fairy dust or whatever the fuck it was made from.

But Jerry hadn't used the remote, not on himself or anyone else. It scared him and yet, the old man was painfully aware that something precious had fallen into his hands. He was scared of what it might actually be doing to people it changed, he was scared of what it might tempt him to do, and he was scared of losing it by handing it over to someone else more qualified. More than anything, he wanted to use it. Jerry simply couldn't bring himself to do it.

So in a way, that Tuesday morning brought a great deal of relief. Jerry pulled into the parking lot of the bar and saw that scumbag waiting for him to open. It took Jerry a second to register who the man was and another second to realize that the man was messing around with a gun, struggling to load the chamber and realizing the safety was still on. That moment of delay saved Jerry. He snatched the remote from the passenger's seat next to him and hit pause. The man froze in place with his finger on the trigger and the barrel aimed at Jerry.

"Shit shit shit shit," Jerry muttered and tumbled from his car seat, catching his breath. His tirade of profanity continued as he edged up to the armed man. At first, he tried to pull the man's fingers loose from the gun, but they offered too much resistance for Jerry's comfort; the whole time, he eyed the unfired gun like a live cobra. Then he thought to check the remote. He found a button called "disarm." Jerry put the LED of the remote as close to the gun as he dared, closed his eyes, and gently pushed the button. There was a pop. Jerry opened his eyes to find the gun was now a cheap plastic water pistol. He exhaled in relief.