The Offer

I walked into my office and he was sitting in my chair.

“Excuse me, sir. That’s my seat.”

His eyes pierced me and I shivered. He peered at me from over my desk, a sly smirk stretched across his face. “I know it is,” he taunted. I scratched my head and walked up to the desk.

“If you know it’s mine, why are you sitting there?”

He motioned for me to take a seat at one of the chairs facing the desk. I was legitimately confused, but I sat down nonetheless. “I’m here to offer you a deal,” he informed me. He spoke with soothing serenity — his tone shaded all stress and suspicions. I sat there for seconds, soaking in his smooth strength and showing sudden censure.

“What kind of deal?”

His stare sunk into my soul and it began to scream. I squatted in silence, strain subdued by my resolve and realized despair. He began his speech: “A deal of a lifetime. I will give you everything that you desire. Anything you can think of — even the things you keep secret from everyone else. Success, stardom, salary, service, savvy and sex — all of it will be yours everlasting.” I was skeptical of his offer, so I challenged him to validate his bid.

“All of those things will be mine forever, you say?”

He sneered and nodded his head smugly.

“What do I have to give you in return?”

“Nothing,” he claimed.


“Nothing,” he stressed, “all you have to do is say yes and all of your dreams will come true! You’ll never have to worry about accomplishing goals, being admired or gaining respect. You’ll never have to worry about financing your endeavors or impressing women! All the world’s knowledge will be yours! And all it will take is a simple yes.” I pondered his bid for a moment, then stood up from my seat.

“That is a generous offer, but I must decline.”

His smirk stuttered and his eyebrows shuddered. “You can’t turn down this deal,” he hissed.

“Yes I can, and I just did.”

I twisted around to face the door, but found him standing there opposing me. “If you refuse this transaction you will perish,” he warned. His smile was gone and he looked at me sternly.

“If I accept the offer, won’t I still perish eventually?”

His grin slithered back, but he said nothing.

“Exactly. So thanks, but no thanks!”

I twisted the doorknob and struggled to pull, but he held the door closed. “You’re a sly one,” he snickered, “I like you, and because of that I will let you leave alive. But first, you have to agree not to tell anyone you saw me.” He extended his hand, signaling me to shake it. I looked at his hand, then him, then I opened the door and walked out of the office. “A gentleman always shakes hands,” he called after me. Without turning around, I said:

“Then why did you offer your hand to me?”