Arthur Finch and the Perpetual Peril of Unsolicited Fortune
Arthur Finch wasn't born under a bad sign; he was born under a 'CAUTION: Cosmic Malfunction Imminent' sign. His morning coffee routinely spontaneously combusted, his umbrella invariably inverted at the first whisper of a cloud, and pigeons, apparently, considered his head a prime target for precision bombing. He'd once tried to hail a cab, only for a small, non-descript meteor to flatten it just as he reached for the door handle. 'Bit dramatic,' he'd muttered, brushing space dust off his shoulder.
His latest career venture, as a professional 'bad luck magnet' for a paranormal insurance company, was surprisingly successful. 'Just send Arthur,' his boss would say, 'and whatever cursed object is causing havoc will either explode, spontaneously reanimate, or simply vanish into a dimension of lost socks.' This, however, meant Arthur was constantly in the blast radius of misfortune.
One Tuesday, Arthur bought a lottery ticket – a rare indulgence, hoping to trick fate by *expecting* nothing. He even picked numbers that were famously 'unlucky.' Naturally, he won. The jackpot. A cool hundred million. Arthur stared at the ticket, then at the news report. 'Arthur Finch, the unluckiest man alive, wins lottery!' exclaimed the banner. He felt a chill. This wasn't *luck*. This was a trap.
He tried to give it away. His charity donation form caught fire. His attempt to buy a friend a new car resulted in the dealership collapsing into a previously undiscovered ancient Roman catacomb. The bank tried to deposit the funds, but the entire digital infrastructure of the financial world momentarily glitched, showing his balance as '$100,000,000.00 (Cosmic Joke Pending)'.
Arthur sighed, sitting on a park bench that promptly snapped in half beneath him. 'Alright, universe,' he said, staring at the perfectly clear sky. 'What's the catch? Am I going to trip over a rainbow and fall into a black hole?' Just then, a single, perfectly ripe banana peel appeared out of thin air, landing precisely at his feet. Arthur looked at it, then at the sky, then back at the peel. 'Oh, come on!'