I'd Buy That For a Dollar!

The day started like any other day. Timothy woke up to the buzzing of his thrift store alarm clock and had to resist the urge to throw the 1980s relic at the wall. He stumbled to the bathroom and started his morning routine. He was unemployed but his mom and dad had told him that he needed to stick to a series of daily rituals even though he had nowhere specific to be. His day was supposed to be full of job hunting but these days he usually spent his free time staring at the ceiling and wishing he was somebody else. He let out a long sigh and continued going through the motions that the Gods of Hygiene dictated. Wash, dry, brush, comb, clip, tweeze, spray rinse and try not to contemplate the emptiness of existence.

His daily nihilistic musings were cut short by a sharp rap at his apartment door. He almost jumped out of his pale pink skin before eyeing the door suspiciously. He hadn't ordered anything and didn't have any friends or family who would visit him on a random weekday morning. The slum he lived in was probably labeled as "beyond salvation" by all of the religious institutions in the city. Nobody had any reason to knock on his door today or any other day.

His curiosity got the better of him though and he advanced towards the noise. A few steps in he realized he was only wearing a faded bath towel. The knock rapped on the door a second time and he heard a muffled voice, a female voice, say something on the other side.

"Just a minute," he called out. Timothy quickly put on the jeans and t shirt he had been wearing for the past three (or was it four) days. He picked up one of the many empty beer cans from the floor and squinted at his reflection momentarily, surveying his scruffy image and offering it a goofy smile. He heard his dad's voice in his head saying the idyllic "Go get em' tiger" before tossing the can across the room and once more advancing on the door.

Upon turning the knob and pushing forward his mouth fell open. He saw a diminutive woman in her early twenties with a pale complexion. She was wearing a ketchup and mustard DHL uniform and holding a small envelope under her arm. Her dark brown ponytail cascaded out of the back of her uniform cap. Upon seeing him she straightened and offered a professionally emotionless smile.

"Timothy Blanchard?"

Timothy nodded wordlessly, looking from the delivery girl to the package and then back again. She didn't have much of a chest to speak of but he still began to imagine her doing all kinds of things to hi....

The delivery girl cleared her throat and extended the package. Timothy accepted the surprisingly light delivery and then moved to close the door, giving a half hearted thank you wave.

The girl immediately stuck out her sneakered foot to stop the door from closing.

"I'm sorry Mr. Blanchard but I am under strict instructions to remain here with you until you have reviewed the contents of the envelope I have delivered. At DHL we pride ourselves in our commitment to our customers and adhere to any and all instructions that accompany a First Class delivery."

"Ummm... okaaaaaay..." Timothy didn't know how to take this. "Do you, uh.... want to come in?"

"We are not allowed to set foot inside of a customer's residence for our own safety and for the integrity of our role as delivery-people."

Timothy slow blinked at the talking tit-less employee handbook and then moved to open the envelope. Inside was a single piece of paper, a smaller envelope and a single one dollar bill. He'd obviously struck the jackpot.

The letter read

Dear Timmy,

You probably don't remember your uncle Magnus but I remember you. We had such fun together when you were brand new to the world and full of nothing but mirth and meconium. Our time together during your infancy was short but, seeing as that you are my only living relative who does not wish me ill I have decided to bequeath to you my most precious possession. You've won, my boy. A victory by default mind you but a victory nonetheless. Sadly, your win means my loss. I am assuredly food for worms as you read this chicken scratch.

I bequeath to you a pendant which I have fondly begun to refer to as "The Almighty Dollar". Please believe me when I say that this trinket is more than a silver dollar on a bit of twine and that this note is more than the rambling eccentricities of a senile dilatant. Allow for me to summarize.

The Almighty Dollar is a potent token which gives the Power to Purchase to its possessor. The wearer may offer a dollar to anyone in the vicinity and ask the person for any item or service they require. The unlucky target has but to accept. The possibilities are limitless; you can acquire land, sustenance, comradery or even favors from the fairer sex. The only actual limits to this power are the wearer's creativity and the mortality. Sadly I have never encountered Mr. Juan Ponce De Leon in my travels nor have I dined with the literally Tucks or their contemporaries and immortality remains beyond my proverbial reach. Thus I give this treasure to the baby who did not hate me. I pray that this enormous power does not cause you to join the ranks of those who do.

Post-mortemly Yours,

Magnus Blanchard

PS - Give the delivery girl a dollar and she will do a trick!