TERROR
TV
By Barnaby Dykstra
Of course it was Johnny who bought the TV.
It was a Sanyo, flat-screen, forty-two inch HD Ready TV. It was placed on a stand in a shop called Ted's Telly's, and a plastic advertisement above it read:
SANYO TELEVISION
42 INCH
HD READY LCD
£450
Ted's Telly's
The three boys stood looking at it outside the shop, through a large glass window. A sharp, cold wind blew their wind-cheaters in crazy directions, and newspapers and crisp packets over their trainers. Rick zipped up his wind cheater up to his neck and shivered.
Johnny, the eldest, always had piles of money in his bank account. He was fifteen, and his parents practically threw money at him. They didn't care where he went, as long as he didn't break his leg while he was out. He had close-cropped fair hair, narrowed brown eyes, and a liking for expensive gear.
Rick, the second-eldest, didn't like machines at all. He preferred sitting out in the sunshine, day-dreaming, or hanging around with Johnny and Alex. Right now he was dreaming about sunshine, not the sharp wind that whipped his face. Rick had long brown hair, soft blue eyes, and a long, wrinkled wind-cheater with an Umbro logo stamped in the left corner.
Alex, the youngest, absolutely loved machines. His bedroom was crammed with magazines and posters of Computers and Laptops. His parents favoured machines as well. His father was a computer designer, and his mother worked as an electrician. Alex didn't have a computer, so he had placed a small bucket in his room, labelled 'Computer Savings', and so far had saved forty-three pounds. Alex had hardly any hair at all. Last week, he had got his dad to take him to the barbers, where his hair was shaved down to miniscule size. He had hoped it would increase his street-cred. All it did was made him look like an idiot. He also had bright green eyes, like emeralds, that glinted in the sun. He was wearing a stiff, long-sleeved T-shirt, and baggy blue jeans.
Johnny stared at the price. £450. He could afford that, so why not? He only had three TVs, and one of them was so old it could be vintage. And he had enough money for a laptop after he bought this. So why not?
"Hey, Johnny," said Rick, in an increasingly bored tone. "How long are we going to stare aimlessly at this TV? I'm getting bored."
"Hmm. I think I might buy this…" Johnny replied.
"Why? You've already got three TVs. Personally, I think that's two TV's too much." Rick observed.
"Yeah, but one of them is retro. I need this one before the old TV goes totally rubbish!"
"It's just a TV…"
"Well, if you liked TV's, or were a TV geek like Alex here..."
"Hey!"
"…would you want a really bad TV, when you had enough for a really good one?"
"Well – no, not really…"
"Then I should buy this." Finished Johnny, smiling.
Muttering not loud enough for Johnny to hear, Rick said, "Such a waste of money."
The three of them crossed the street to Lloyds TSB bank, and Johnny placed his PIN card in the slot. The machine sucked it in hungrily, and Johnny punched in four numbers and selected £450. The money was spat out and Johnny picked it up, smiling. The machine told him he still had £170 left. It was a little bit lower then Johnny expected, but it was still enough to buy a new games console.
They entered Ted's Telly's. The room smelled of musty old cigarette smoke, and the walls were just a layer of dust, which was because no one had even bothered to clean it. The shop-keeper wasn't much better. He was a dirty, unhealthy old man with a shrivelled cigarette between his cracked lips, which was probably the cause of the disgusting smell; matted, greasy hair that was slicked back with far too much oil; watery grey eyes and a soiled shirt that probably had been pure white in the morning. His clothes were, like him, crumpled.
"What you want?" he rasped. He spoke with a heavy Liverpool accent. He leaned over the till, glaring at the trio. "If you in here for nothing, then get out."
The only think that Rick was really interested in here was a grey spider hanging inches from the man's head. He was hoping it would land and bite him.
"We want to buy this TV." Johnny gestured to the Sanyo. "I've got the money." He took the cash out of his pocket and waved it in the shop-keeper's face. The shop-keeper became a little more interested in the fact that he would make some money for the first time in two days.
"You want the Sanyo? That'll be four 'undred and fifty quid then." He sniggered, showing ghastly yellow and black teeth. Johnny recoiled. He had seen better teeth in a dog.
Alex spoke for the first time. "I might get one of these when I get enough money…"
"If ya ain't buyin', get out." The shop-keeper spat these words out like poison.
"We're with him." Alex gestured at Johnny, who had just placed the cash on the counter.
"You want it delivered, or take it yourself?" he asked Johnny.
"I'll have it delivered."
"Fill ya name an' address in here then." The shop-keeper handed Johnny a piece of paper with lines saying:
Name:
Address:
Post Code:
Phone Number:
Johnny filled it in and handed it back to the shop-keeper. He placed it in a folder with about three other orders. Seems like he didn't get many customers. Johnny wasn't surprised. There was another TV shop down the street: TV heaven. That didn't smell like smoke, and the clerk wasn't a greasy old soul with enough oil in his hair to interest an Arab. But that shop didn't have this TV. That was why they had come here.
The shop-keeper snatched up the money and placed it in a dirty till that was considerably empty. Then the shop-keeper gave them a withering glare and spat more words in their direction. "Now, if you ain't gonna buy anything else, get out."
"Sure," said Alex. "Say, are you Ted?"
"What's it to you?"
"Nothing – just wondering."
"Yeah, I am. Now go." He pointed a gnarled hand in the direction of the door. The three of them walked out. Just before he left, Johnny said, "Hey – when am I going to get this TV?"
The shopkeeper glared at them. "Monday."
"Monday? But… it's Thursday today! That's ages!"
That earned him another glare. If looks could kill, Ted would be a mass murderer. "We – uh – need to get it packed. Now GO!" He shouted the last words as though he was tired of customers, and just wanted peace and quiet.
"OK, OK, keep your wig on," muttered Johnny. He walked outside, swinging the glass door shut behind him. "C'mon," he said to Alex and Rick. "Let's go to my place."
Back at Johnny's, Alex went straight over to the TV. The one he had now was an old HANNSpree, not flat screen, nineteen inch. Alex picked up the remote and pressed a button. The screen flickered on. Meanwhile, Johnny was poring over the TV Times, and Rick was in the kitchen, looking at a comic.
"Hey!" called Johnny in the direction of the living room. "Turn on channel seven, the news is on!"
"OK!" came the reply.
Johnny strolled into the living room just as Alex pressed another button and the screen changed.
"I'm Jim Davies, and this is Channel Seven News." said the reporter. "Four more people are found mysteriously dead in their living rooms. Forensic Scientists can't explain how it happened. They believe I may be of natural causes. Sarah Hull is live in Newcastle, where the last case happened.
The picture turned to a windy Newcastle afternoon, where a blond girl with blue eyes was standing outside a house with a microphone and an earpiece.
"Yes, Jim, I'm here at Newcastle where it seems everyone is dumbfounded. No one can see how six people died in two days, in their living rooms, in different places!"
Johnny switched the TV off, and turned to Alex.
"That is very strange," he said.
"Yeah! I hope I don't just drop dead when I'm watching TV…"
"Don't we all, Alex. Don't we all."
Four days later, the TV arrived. The men who carried it were big and muscular and tattooed. The biggest one, Lenny, tried to get the TV in through the door, but it wouldn't fit. The other big one, Carl, had more brains then Lenny, and that would be incredibly easy, because Lenny had no brains at all. Carl had a brilliant idea of putting the TV in the side way, so it could fit. He did that, leaving Lenny scratching his head and thinking about why he didn't think of that. So, the TV was finally inside.
The workers weren't really helpful at all. They just dumped it in the living room and left. So it left Johnny to do all the wiring up. But first he called over Alex and Rick (He didn't know why he called Rick, because Rick didn't know a think about TV's.) and sliced open the cardboard with his pen-knife.
The doorbell suddenly rang. Alex and Rick were standing outside. Johnny said hi and invited them inside. The TV was sitting in the living room.
"Nice," said Alex, when they went inside.
"Yeah. I need help to put it up." Johnny walked over to the instruction manual and picked it up.
"Connect wire 'A' to plug 'A'. Sheesh, this is hard!"
About two hours after the TV had arrived, the trio had finished. Just at that precise moment, Johnny's father walked home from work. He entered the living room and said, "What's that Johnny?"
"A new TV."
"Another one? Well, OK." He left the room. That left the three of them staring at a new, finished TV.
"Let's turn it on," suggested Alex. "See if it works."
"OK," replied Johnny. He flicked a button and the screen came on. It was showing the Chinese film The House of Flying Daggers. The picture was brilliant.
"Wow," said Alex. "It's really good!"
"Yeah," said Rick. Even though he didn't like TV's, he had to admit that this was a fantastic picture.
"Let's see what else was on," suggested Johnny. He flicked the channel two button. The screen flickered, and then sprang up. It was the same Chinese film.
"You much have been on channel two anyway," observed Rick.
"Yeah – but I'm sure I was on channel five. Let's try channel three." He flicked the button. It was the same Chinese film. So was channel one, channel four and channel five. As was every program on Sky. Even Sky Sports had it on.
"What's wrong with this thing?" roared Johnny, frantically pressing buttons. "I didn't pay this much for a broken TV!"
Suddenly, a ninja appeared in the film and threw something grey on the ground. A small, green cloud of gas seeped out of it, creeping up the air. It filled the entire screen.
"What's happening? The screen's gone green!" shouted Rick.
"Don't worry!" reassured Alex. "It's just a gas bomb. It'll go down."
But the gas didn't go down. It crept further and further until it actually seeped out of the TV.
"WHAT?" screamed Johnny. "What is this? I'm getting out of here!"
He tried to get out of his chair, but found he was tied there by strong, invisible ropes. The others tried, but were stuck too. The gas kept on coming. Johnny yelled for his dad, but no sound came out of his mouth. The gas kept on coming. All of them started yelling, but they could make one little noise. The gas kept on coming – coming – coming until it was inches away from their mouths. They held their breaths, but they could stop breathing. They all breathed in.
About an hour later, the police and the ambulance arrived. The figures of the natural deaths were now nine.
THE END
