Man in Black: Paranormal

When you see the man in black sitting at the bar, don't go sit down next to him. If you hear him tell somebody he's a record producer, don't listen. If you've got a gig in the bar, leave. Blow it off. You don't want the man in black to come to your attention. If you're about to leave, carrying your guitar, and the man in black looks over his shoulder at you and he's got this expression in his eyes that you know just means he's seen you and he really wants to hear you and this i your one big shot, run for your life. Why do they call him the man in black? He claims to be a big fan of Johnny Cash, and to wear black in his honor, but when he says it he gets this funny smile around the corners of his mouth, kinda like your Uncle Buck did when he was talking about the big fish that got away. It's a strange world, you should know that. You've seen some things at gigs. Don't let the man in black buy you a drink and talk you up. Especially don't let him pull out a contract and hand it to you. Don't expect to smell brimstone or see his eyes flash red or anything like that. This isn't that kind of deal. He might be a devil and he might be after your soul, but if there's that language in the contract it disappears when you show any signs of reading all the way through it. Nope, it's a standard abusive recording-industry contract, and don't you forget it. But then once you've signed on, he's got you buying at the company store, and he can send you anywhere he wants with any kind of people he wants. And if you notice that all the roadies and hangers on and even your PR agent and everybody around you is doing some hardcore drugs but functioning just fine, it might be hard to stay clean. And if he sends ten truly gorgeous strippers inside your private limousine with the tinted windows with you, because that’s the impression they want to make on the fans, and the strippers start to make advances, and you're not actually paying them anyway, and nobody will know, and there's no way your girlfriend back home would ever find out--well, that's another way he's getting you to sell your soul. If he tells you he's arranged a remunerative private performance for somebody you find out committed some serious human rights violations, it's easy to tell yourself that you're just there to perform.


Inspiration: Sheet of stamps with Johnny Cash on them.
Story potential: Low.
Notes: Eh. This is heading away from the paranormal angle, and is generally not very interesting to me.