Adam and the Fortune Cookie
Can I have a cookie? Adam asks.
Come on. I saw you carry in a box of fortune cookies. I just want one.
Adam could sense it in the hall, but it wasn’t until he was entirely inside that he could taste the tangy smell of Max’ apartment misting out of beautiful blue and green mold. It made Adam want to chew the air, to try and kill it and get it out of his mouth
How can you breathe in here?
Please get out of my room please.
I don’t even believe in fortunes, I just eat the cookies. Most people aren’t like that. Most people eat fortune cookies for the fortunes inside. Some don’t even eat them, they just open them. Did you know that?
Just take a fucking cookie and leave.
Thank you very much.
Adam’s feet stick to the plastic tile kitchen floor. The counter is covered by spots of various textures and shades of brown. Everything turns brown after enough time, Adam realizes as he opens his fortune cookie.
Holy shit, Adam says. But he has to say it three more times, each less convincingly, before Max finally sighs and says:
Fine. What. Just tell me what it is and leave.
There’s no fortune in here.
So. You don’t believe in fortunes. You said you just wanted the cookie.
No, I said I just eat the cookie. And I know I don’t believe in fortunes. I do, however, believe in no fortunes.
You’re an idiot and an asshole.
This is serious. No fortune is an ominous fortune. It means I’m nothing. This is a sign. People make up those sayings in fortune cookies, and every one in five is the same. One in five isn’t a sign.
Listen, I’m being serious here. Please leave my apartment now. Please. I’m being polite and calm.
Do you know what the odds are of me getting a cookie with no fortune?
Apparently high, because you got one.
No, it’s low, and that’s why it’s important that I got one. And I picked mine from deep in that big box. I felt that cookie. It found me. And then it told me I was nothing.
No, it told you that you are nothing. Now please leave my house. Do not come back here.
Thanks for the cookie, Max.
Aren’t you going to eat it?
Adam went home and gave the cookie a nice talking to. The cookie told him a lot of things about Max that Adam didn’t know. Like that he said terrible things about him. All kinds of things, the cookie says.
Yeah, but like what?
I don’t know, just things. Like, I know what he’s up to. Or, Yeah, that’s it, I’ll do it like that.
What does it mean?
I don’t know. He mostly grumbles and scratches himself. He also said you were a homosexual.
He said that about me?
Yes, and in a derogatory way.
What was the way he said it?
He said, I think Adam is a homosexual. I don’t know how I feel about that. But at least he’s not a nigger.
Oh my god.
Yeah. Then he said he was going to try to hit on you, or just date rape you.
Yeah. Because he’s fat and lonely. That’s his original reason for getting the box of fortune cookies. He said so. That’s when he mentioned you. He said he knew you liked fortune cookies. He was going to put drugs in them and then go to your apartment to offer you one so he could rape and kill you terribly slowly.
This is horrible.
. You didn’t give him enough time to poison the cookies. He’s coming over now, but he didn’t count on my being here. You’ve got to stop him. Go get a knife. Hurry.
Frightened, Adam does whatever the cookie tells him to do. Sweat gathers in the folds of his skin as he panics at the thought of that fat man with his clothes off.
Max knocked just when the fortune cookie said he would.
Hey, Adam, sorry about before. I thought about what you said. You should pick another cookie, maybe get a real fortune.
What do I do?
Invite him in.
Yeah, Max, sure. Come on in bud
As soon as he walks through the door, stab him in the head.
In the head?
Stab him in the head.
What about the neck or heart.
Don’t you fucking question me!
Yes, Fortune Cookie.
As soon as Max walked in, Adam jumped at him, bringing the blade onto the top of his head. The knife stopped at the touch of Max’ skull, and Adam was too weak to drive it further
Holy fuck, Max said, shoving Adam off and pulling the knife tip out of his head.
Shit, I hit the skull. I told you we should have gone for the heart.
Who the fuck is we. What the fuck, man. That really hurt. I think I’m bleeding. You son of a bitch.
What should I do?
I don’t know, but you’d better find out fast, Max says.
Fortune cookie, what should I do?
Psycho, are you talking to a cookie? Are you going to attack me again? I’m calling the cops, but do I need to kick your ass first?
Max can’t hear you.
JUST FUCKING KILL HIM.
And in a state of professional calm, Adam breathes deeply, then says: You’re right, Max. I do need help. Help me. Call the police.
There is something seriously fucked up about you, Max says as he turns around and grabs for the telephone.
I know, Adam says as he slices Max’ throat.
Nice work, Adam.
Thank you, Fortune Cookie. Now, what?
Burn down the building. There is some kerosene in the basement. But first, check and see if there is a gun in Max’s apartment.
Yes, Fortune Cookie.
When Adam comes back from the basement, the fortune cookie is just staring off into space.
Hey Adam, do you ever feel, you know, kinda left out sometimes?
Well, sure, Fortune Cookie, Adam says as he pours kerosene on the drapes.
I want to burn here, Adam. You will burn with me.
What? I don’t know, Fortune Cookie. This has gotten a little bit satanic. I mean, I’m okay with burning down the building, but not myself.
You must do it. I command you.
This is when Adam eats the Fortune Cookie alive. On his way out, he lights a match and throws it onto his kerosene soaked couch. As the building burns to the ground, he says, man, I’m glad that’s over, then strolls down the street, twirling Max’s gun as a quiet giggle builds in his head.