Chapter 2

While Kimmi was looking at the articles with interest, Sean was at home, supposedly looking at articles too, but it wasn't long before he lost his interest. It took about 5 minutes before he was bored.
'Man, I don't know how she has the patience to deal with all these losers and whiners. This is so darn boring'� She had better be paying me for this.'�
While he scrolled around the website for something that involved pirates or ninjas, he did encounter an article that mentioned someone that was crazy. It was enough to catch his attention and he began to read it.
It was entitled:
'Rich, crazy, lonely, and happy'�

My name is Sam McNeal. I am a 42 year old man with a story about my fun time working with the Devil.
It was 9 years ago, and I was poor and down on my luck. I had tried living with relatives, but the greedy bastards wouldn't let me stay. I can't get a job, since I have no skills that pertain to anything, but no one understands that. They don't understand that money is everything, and without it, you are absolutely nothing. You see, I stopped praying to God years ago. He never gave me anything I asked for, so money became my God.
Over the past few years, I tried as many religions as I could think of, and none of them seemed to care for me, none of them helped me out of my situation. But then I realized that no matter how many religions are out there, there has always been one common similarity, the Devil. Now listen to me, I am no Satanist, nor am I a devil worshipper of any type, I just asked him for a few favors, since he had the power to do it too. Actually, only one favor, 'Can I have money?'�
Funny thing is, maybe one or two days after I asked that favor, a man dressed in business casual attire, bald, and very creepy looking pale yellow eyes asked me in a very monotone voice, 'Sir, do you desire to strike it rich, do you seek money? Here, take my business card.'�
He handed me a card that said 'Natas Lived, Fortune Service.'� It was an offer so huge I couldn't stand to resist, so I asked him what were the terms and conditions. 'Just come to my office and we can discuss our terms and policies.
On the way there, when the man and I drove to a stoplight, a weird homeless guy comes up to me in the car and says something weird like 'Many make deals, young and old, but seal this deal, and your soul is sold!'�
I thought he just was another homeless nut job, so I told him to beat it, and actually, I threw my half-eaten burrito at the loser, who wouldn't?
Once we got to the office, I sat and filled out all the forms except the contract. I asked the guy for another pen, for some reason, none of the pens out seemed to work.
After about 5 minutes of me fumbling around he said, 'Oh, you're already on the contract, have you even read it yet?'� I told him I didn't give a crap about reading it. Then he said 'Here, use this pen, it's our special 'binding'� pen.'�
The pen looked like nothing I had ever seen before. It was a click pen, but there was something eerie about it. It looked like a cross between a syringe and a pen. But when it came to becoming rich, I didn't care about that either.
Only problem was, when I clicked the pen to write, my thumb felt searing pain. Like a mix between a sharp, stinging pain, and a hot, branding, burning pain.
After the pain subsided, the pen was filled with red liquid. Although I was no genius, it didn't take me long to realize that it was blood and not just any blood'�it was my blood!
'Wow, talk about a binding contract, he he.'� Sean laughed to himself.
I signed the contract and he asked me for a few things. First, to put a thumbprint on the space provided, and when I did, I saw a weird looking face on my thumb. Oh well, none of that mattered, I was about to be rich!
Then the man said to me, 'Humph, you should've read the fine print! From here on out, for any of your incomes, let it be from a penny to a million dollars, a relative will die, and since the contract was binding for an eternity, under subsection 6, there's nothing you can do to change it now!'�
By the twisted look on his face, he expected me to be scared by this, but I looked him in the eye and said, 'Who cares, they are nothing to me, they didn't help me in my time of need, and now they have to pay the price!'�
'Well, well, well. I'm surprised you can say that, I'm sure that in the long-run, you'll live, or die, regretting it!'�

Funny thing is, 9 years later and I'm the happiest man I can be.
-Sam McNeal

'Wow, he was absolutely right, but he forgot to add insane and retarded.'� Sean said to himself upon finishing the post. 'This is so stupid, Kim's lucky that I'm doing this for her. Had this been anyone else I'd either kick the idea to the curb, or charge them.'�
After he finished doing what he was doing, Sean was on his way to bed.
RING RING RING!
'Hello, who the heck is calling me this late?'� asked Sean.
'It's me, Kimmi.'�
'Kim, it's 12:30 in the morning, it's a school night, and I have a test to do in first period. Good night!'�
'Wait, wait, it's important!'�
'You'd better be on fire, or I'm hanging up!'�
'Look, I read an article, and do you remember that dream that I always tell you about?'�
'Yeah. You mean the one with the trees and crap?'�
'Yep, well on one of those trees, I was the name of that guy that talked to me.'�
'You know what, talk to me when I care, IN THE MORNING!'�
'Ow, you don't have to yell!'�
'Sorry, I'm tired and sleepy, talk to me tomorrow morning, okay?'�
'Alright, good night.'�
'Chao.'�

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