Rod Serling voiceover: Presenting for your consideration....
Welcome to the story of the haunted ashtray, a little tale of mystery and innocence debased.
It all started one hot day last summer. Driving around, looking for bargains to sell on eBay, I found myself on a winding dirt road I'd never seen. It was getting dark quickly. I looked around for any habitation; I needed someone to point me back to civilization.
Luckily, a small ramshackle store soon appeared by the road, under a sign that read HOT L CAL. How whimsical, I thought. Inside, amongst musty goods and dusty foodstuffs, a gnarled old man stood at the counter. I asked him for directions and his face broke into a twisted grin.
"Lost, eh? Aren't we all? ... And you think I can set you right?" He paused, then spat out, "What's in it for me?"
Startled, I offered in return to buy something from his store. The twisted smile appeared again.
"Ha! Got just the thing for you!" He rummaged around behind the counter, then pulled out the pottery piece you see before you now. "This here's a real special item. Made before this area was settled by the white man. Used for snacking on buffalo and smoking war pipes. It's old, it's in great shape--just a couple of chips on the bottom, another on one edge--and it's just $6.66. Pretty cheap for finding your way back, right?"
"You take me for a fool!" I scoffed, turning the piece upside down. "Look here, it says, 'Calif USA 871' right on the back! Old, my foot! And it's hideous. Why would I want something so revolting?"
An odd light came into his dark, mocking eyes. He whispered, "It has ... powers."
"Really!" I smirked. "It's certainly enough to make you hurl; that's the only power I see. Serve food in this, you'll be the only one eating."
"Suit yourself!" he snarled. "Find your own way back!" He turned away.
"No, wait," I said. "Anything to get out of here." I gave him the $6.66, took my server-and-ashtray, and got some grudging directions. An hour later, I was home.
And life has never been the same since.
Family members refuse to come over. Friends make excuses to avoid me. My cats spurn me. Even the IRS won't audit me. Alone I sit in my dark, quiet house, just me and this server in the gathering gloom. Sometimes I hear distant laughter, tiny scratching and scurrying sounds, eerie tinny music. Glasses rattle in the cabinets, plates break spontaneously, doors bang in empty rooms. But it's just me and this ... thing.
Please, perform a random act of kindness and buy this ugly menacing devilish wonderfully unique tray! You will ... be ... glad ... you ... did!
Help me, I see dead people!!
