Murphy Rules 03 - "Bad Boy Bobby Brow"

Welcome to this new series of Stories,
Which revolve around Murphy
And his rules.
Where what can go wrong,
Will go wrong,
At the worst possible time.
And under the most worst-case scenario.
Murphy at his best!
Of course some have stated
That Murphy was an Optimist!

*

This Story is Based Upon
Twilight Zone
Created by Rod Serling
and
In Conjunction With
Murphy s Rules

*

Dedication:

This story is humbly dedicated to all those, of all walks of life, who have during their life, at one time or another, or perhaps more than once or more times than they would prefer to remember, wither one was prepared or more likely not, ran afoul of Murphy s Laws at the worst of times and some how made it on to another day.

Other Murphy Stories:

1 - "Mars Probe 12-B"
2 - "Taken"

*

A Murphy Story
"Bad Boy Bobby Brown"
by Leslie A. Greenleaf, Jr.

*****

It was well past midnight on this dark new day. It was now mid June and the weather was still cool and now it was the last day of the more normal workweek, Friday. And of course it was Friday the thirteenth. High above there were dark clouds, which hung heavily over the city. Overall this section of the city was worn out and run down and nearly abandoned. There were a few old warehouses and many long closed businesses. On one corner there was a rundown four-story rooming house which was dark except on the third floor, where there was one dimly lit window with a bit of light filtering through a drawn shade. The entire street was dark with few lights in any of the buildings windows and with many of the streetlights having long been burnt out. Now they were long rusted beyond use and not subject for either repair or replacement. And according to the city fathers, who never entered this section of the city, the expense of burnt out street lights and general city upkeep could be better used elsewhere.

High above the tired and worn-out buildings there was a sudden bright flash of lightening. Followed in a few moments by the low, rolling rumble of thunder. In the rooming house on the corner the last light in that third floor window went out. The darkened building only added another touch of black emptiness to the already depressed area.

There was a single working street light on a corner diagonally across from the now darkened rooming house and just above the only open business within blocks, a small, 24-hour diner. The street signs on the lamppost read Chestnut and Orange.

There was a tall, average looking, middle aged-man standing beneath the lamppost in its small pool of yellowish light. He was well dressed in a dark suit and tie with a light colored shirt, and he appeared to be remarkably dry considering the steady rain falling upon the sidewalk and street. Even his dark hair was unruffled by the rain and appeared to have been just neatly combed. Raindrops splashed steadily in the puddles near his polished shoes where the man stood. If one were to look closely there was not one drop of rain on his shoes. He seemed unconcerned with the rain, which was falling a little heavier; perhaps he was even oblivious to it.

"We open our story," began the dark suited man in a soft, gravely voice, "on this dark, dismal and rain, dampened street on the corner of Chestnut and Orange located in a small, unassuming and relatively, unimportant city. The rain is now washing down the gutters, slowly sweeping away the odd bits of trash and garbage, which had collected in and along the street during the just ended day. And come the morning, the street will appear to be not so much newer, but perhaps just a bit cleaner with the passing of the rain. And for some it will be a new and better day. Yet, from this unimportant city, one of it s current residents, come the rising of the sun, will not be here to greet the bright, new day."

Near the far corner, backed up against the side of the old rooming house, a young scruffy and harsh looking man stood in the darkness of the side street waiting for a single car to go past. He kept looking around, back and forth, watching, looking for someone or something that was not there. If one were to look closer, one could readily see the eyes were filled with a quiet anger, just waiting to bubble to the surface and lash out.

The car's headlights passed over the man in the dark suit and tie, as he stood there beneath the only streetlight within several blocks. Perhaps, it was the rain, or a trick of the stormy night, or perhaps the man in the dark suit was not really there, but he cast no shadow as that single car passed by.

The car hit a large puddle, which had gathered in the uneven street near the base of the lamppost, throwing up a large splash of dirty water directly at the man in the dark suit.

Water splashed onto the lamppost at Chestnut and Orange. Unfazed, as not one drop had fallen upon him, he watched the car as it continued down the rain swept street. Its tail lights fading with distance and into the darkness of the stormy night.

The young man trotted across the darkened street and hurried past the man in the dark suit and tie. He stopped by the edge of the lighted window in the only open establishment within several long and dark city blocks. He peered carefully in to see who may or may not be inside. His coat collar was turned up, his hair was matted down and rain ran down his face and dripped slowly down through the stubble of his unshaven face and across a scar. It was a rather nasty looking scar, which ran through his right ear and across the side of his face to just below his right eye.

"Please welcome," stated the man in the dark suit, "tonight s guest, one Robert Brown. Born twenty-four years ago tonight, during an evening such as this. One with a heavy rainstorm, such as we have now. Mr. Brown, late of Apex Security for theft, late of Black s Shoes for theft, late of Hamp s Grocery for theft, late of the United States Army by Dishonorable Discharge for theft." The dark suited man paused a moment. "Suffice to say, Mr. Robert Brown has a hard time remembering and learning that not everything is his to take. And in a more polite society, one would say he was a bad seed. His life has been hard, but more due to the choices he has made. Yet, his lessons in life, while harsh went unlearned. And the lessons got harder with every bad choice. Hard lessons not well learned as attested to by his rather unique scar, recently acquired."

"And tonight, tonight he has just arrived in time for one final lesson. "

Robert Brown took another look up and down the darkened streets. Apparently not seeing the man in the dark suit and tie, standing beneath the lamppost at Chestnut and Orange. He took another quick peek in through the dinner's window.

The man in the dark suit continued speaking. "We now present to you for your learning experience and rather sophisticated education, the tale of Bad Boy Bobby Brown or as I prefer to call it, Mr. Murphy Has His Rules."

We watch the young man, with his matted hair and turned up color, slip quickly into the only open establishment on the street. A building with a large, lighted picture window on the corner of Chestnut and Orange, just steps from where the dark suited man stood, still perfectly dry, in the rain beneath the only functioning street light.

The red neon sign in the window read:

Twilight Zone - Diner 24 hours

The dark suited man chuckled softly into the night. "Welcome, Mr. Brown. We've been waiting for you." Then he stepped away from the pool of light into the darkness of the rainy evening. The street light at the corner of Chestnut and Orange flickered twice then went dark. High above there was a flash of lightening, which filled the street with light, followed by the soft clap of thunder rolling into the darkness. The darkened rain soaked street was quite empty.

Within the small 24-hour diner it was warm and dry and well lit by small lights spaced out over the five booths along the left hand wall. The rest were arraigned evenly over the counter that ran along the right side with the seven stools and with the normal grill and food serving devices behind the counter.

There was a door in the back wall near the counter that led to the kitchen. A second door on the far side near the booths led to the bathrooms. Between the doors against the back wall, were a pair of ice cream freezer chests with a number of small flip open covers.

There were only a few people within the dinner at this hour, as, according to the large clock with Roman Numerals on the wall opposite the entry, above the freezer chests. It was thirteen minutes after one.

The man behind the counter turned from the grill, where a pair of hot dogs and buns, were being heated, and he looked across the dinner. Even dressed in the long, stained and not so white apron of the cook, it was the same dark haired man that had been standing out beneath the now darkened streetlight.

He said softly with a smile, "Everyone these days needs a night job." Turning he flipped the buns over.

There was a single thump on the wall above the freezer chests.

The cook turned towards the back of the diner and called out, "Almost done George."

There were two older, gray haired men sitting in the center booth talking softly over eggs, pan fries and bacon with toast and the no longer bright white coffee mugs before them, were half filled, or perhaps half empty. James Tanner with his back to the entrance had a short cut beard and mustache and across from him was the clean-shaven Andrew Smith. Both worked at the Century Warehouse two blocks away preparing whatever shipments were going out when the morning trucks arrived. Every evening they came for breakfast before heading up-town several blocks to the low rent apartment building where they lived in small single bedroom units across the hall from each other.

Andrew laughed. "George getting hungry?"

There was a younger woman, perhaps in her mid-thirties, with long reddish hair pulled up into a bun at the back of her head. Sitting at the counter upon the end stool farthest from the door. She was casually dressed in a knee length black skirt with a white blouse. She wore white sneakers on her feet with tall white socks that almost went up to her knees. There was a small name tag on her blouse, which read: Kathy. Before her on the counter there was one of those dull white coffee mugs and a napkin with a spoon on it.

She picked up the mug and took a sip. "He always does this time of night."

Kathy turned and looked across at James Tanner and Andrew Smith. "You two all set for coffee?" She held up her mug towards them.

Andrew, who had just filled his mouth, only nodded.

James spoke up. "We're fine for now. Do you have any of that cherry pie left? "

Kathy turned towards the cook. "Rod?"

Rod answered as he rolled the hot dogs. " Nope all gone." He turned to face them. "We do have blueberry, apple and peach."

James stated., "Blueberry."

Andrew, still chewing tapped the table and nodded.

"He ll have a slice too," stated James.

Just then the front door opened and a figure in dark clothes slipped in. He was very wet and he appeared to be soaked through and through. It was Robert Brown, whom we had just observed enter the Diner moments earlier.

Kathy looked over at the young man. She gestured across the room. "Take any seat. Would you like some coffee?"

"Sounds good," stated Brown as moved towards the far end of the counter.

Kathy rose and moved over to the twin coffee makers. "Decaf or regular?"

Brown remained standing at the end of the counter. "Regular."

"Be right there," returned Kathy reaching for the brown server. She took an empty mug from the tray and turned towards Brown. And she gasped.

The gasp got everyone s attention.

Bobby Brown had a gun in his hand. It was a revolver, made of blue steel, by it s size it was a 38, caliber. "No one do anything stupid."

James and Andrew both looked over. Both James and Andrew began to rise.

Brown waved the gun towards them. "Don't be a hero."

From the grill, Rod, spoke up. His voice was steady. "Andy, James, sit. We will give him what he wants."

Kathy said, "What do you want?"

Brown turned towards her, pointing the gun at her.

Startled, she yelped in fear and dropped the coffee pot.

The nearly full coffee pot hit the floor and broke, sending coffee flowing across the floor.

There was a sudden loud banging coming from the rear wall. The kitchen door burst open and in the doorway was a large hideous green and brown blob of a creature with several eyes on long stalks coming from the top of the thing's head, they all twitched and swung about. Most were focused on Kathy and Robert Brown. There was a large hideous looking mouth filled with long sharp pointed teeth. Several long brownish black tentacles with round suckers along one side of them filled the door frame around the creature. Two tentacles were actually climbing up the wall towards the ceiling as another pair, were slithering across the floor reaching out towards Kathy,

Kathy who was frozen in place from fear, she remained still, un-moving, just staring at Brown with the gun pointed at her.

Robert Brown too was frozen in place. But he only saw the hideous thing slowly slithering and oozing out of the kitchen doorway. He could only see the tentacles weaving and moving.

The first tentacles had almost reached Kathy's feet, when Robert Brown suddenly cried out in fear and pushed out his arm with the gun and squeezed the trigger.

The two greenish brown tentacles near Kathy suddenly shot up and grabbed Kathy and yanked her up towards the ceiling just as the gun fired.

The bullet raced across the short distance and plunged into one of the tentacles that had wrapped around Kathy.

There was a low menacing growl from the creature as most of its eye stalks turned towards Robert Brown. Two were looking up at Kathy.

Robert Brown raised the gun again.

The greenish brown blob tentacle creature was faster. It raised Kathy gently up to the ceiling as three other tentacles lashed out at Robert Brown. One quickly wrapped around his waist twice, another wrapped around his arm with the gun and he cried out in pain as both his arm and hand was crushed, the third tentacle pulled the gun easily from Brown's now useless hand. Then Brown cried out in horror as the blob creature began to pull him forwards.

All Robert Brown could do was make whimpering noises, as he was well beyond being scared. The tentacles slowly pulled him towards the kitchen door. Then he was pulled through the door. The kitchen door softly closed.

There was a short moment of silence then the beginnings of a cry then loud crunching noises and the cry was suddenly cut short.

Silence once again filled the small 24-hour diner.

Rod looked from the closed kitchen door at Kathy. "You okay?"

Kathy took a deep breath and nodded. "I am. Thanks to George."

There was more munching and crunching noises coming from the kitchen.

Across the small diner, James and Andrew had gone back to eating their breakfast.

James said softly, "George sure makes lot of noise when he eats."

Andrew nodded and chuckled.

The kitchen door slowly opened and a pair of eye-stalks looked out into the diner. Four tentacles came sliding out. One held a mop, another a broom. A third carried a dustpan. The fourth held a pie and slithered over to the booth where James and Andrew sat. The fourth tentacle gently set the pie down on the table between them. The first three were quickly cleaning up the broken coffee pot and the puddle of coffee.

James said, "Thanks. George."

Andrew added, "But why a whole pie?"

The tentacle pointed first to Andrew then to James then turned around and pointed to Kathy.

Kathy spoke up, "He is saying thank you for trying to help me."

"Anything for a friend," stated James. "Just glad you re alright."

"That s right," added Andrew. "When I heard that gun shot."

Just then another tentacle came slithering out with a new coffee pot and brought it over to Kathy.

Meanwhile the three tentacles that had picked up the mess withdrew back into the kitchen. The tentacle with Andrew and James moved over to Kathy and it pointed at a spot on the one that had brought out the coffee pot.

"He s wounded," stated Kathy with alarm.

James and Andrew came over and Rod got the first aid kit from under the counter.

Andrew looked at the tentacle, "George, tell me if this hurts." Andrew looked and pointed out the small hole.

James dug through the first aid kit and brought out a bottle of hydrogen peroxide. He looked towards the kitchen where there were several eye-stalks peeking over the top of the door. He held up the bottle. "Will this bother you?"

The second tentacle waved back and forth.

James opened the bottle and poured and watched the liquid bubble and foam.

Behind the counter, Rod the Cook said, "For when you threaten someone do not be surprised at the reaction of friends. That is if one has friends. Mr. Brown on the other hand had no friends to help him. And thus ends tonight's lesson from The Twilight Zone and life's class is closed for a one time visitor, the late Mr. Robert Brown."

Epilogue

The man in the very dry dark suit and tie again stood outside on the sidewalk, in the midst if the still falling rain, in front of the picture window with the red neon sign that read:

Twilight Zone - Diner 24 hours.

"Tonight's dinner and show were brought to you freely this early rainy, morning by the late night inhabitants often found in The Twilight Zone open 24-hours a day, where one can often meet the oddest of friends and stumble across some of Mr. Murphy s Rules."

"Bad Boy Bobby Brown"

The End