SNAKE OIL

by R. A. Conti

Art by Francine Lee

Zelda fell asleep after she wore me out again. I couldn’t let myself sleep. I had to stay awake and think of a way to get away from her and take that damned gadget with me.

How was I supposed to know any of those infernal contraptions actually worked? They were just gizmos I’d been selling to gullible rubes. The alien I bought them from told me they were children’s toys. I got the entire shipment cheap. He said he had to get rid of them fast and was happy with my offer. I always wondered why.

The alien had slapped me on the back to congratulate me after I paid. “Tell your customers they’ll heal whatever ail’s them!” it suggested. I wasn’t looking for possible sales pitches. All I wanted was to buy really low and sell real high so I could make a windfall profit. Since I bought them, the sales of the gadgets have exceeded my wildest dreams. I was rolling in money and still had a huge supply left.

I gotta admit my sales spiel is pretty good- the best I’ve ever used for any of the crap I’ve sold over the years. None of that shit ever worked, either, but I never stayed around long enough for anyone to demand their money back. A traveling con man learns early that he has to sell fast and leave fast or he doesn’t get to be a traveling con man for very long. He might even end up a dead con man. 

This time, I was stupid and didn’t leave immediately after the sale. I hung around for a good meal and a soft bed in a nice inn. Big mistake.

A week earlier, I had worked a crowd of local suckers into a buying frenzy. They waved their money and pleaded with me to take it before all the doohickeys were sold out. I never mentioned that I had a warehouse full of them. I assumed they were all duds. Just blinking LEDs, goofy musical tones, and not much else. But they believed me when I told them it was a miracle cure machine and I happily relieved them of their money.

The old woman had waited until everyone else bought their gadgets. One look at her and I wondered how she had the strength to stand up. She stretched out her frail arm and could barely grasp her money. I was afraid she would drop the gadget after I handed it to her. She didn’t, though. Instead, she thanked me in a weak voice and then hobbled away. For some reason, I felt sorry the device was a dud.

The next day, a young woman came to the inn and asked for me. She was a knockout. She was carrying the gadget but I didn’t recall seeing her the day before. That was because (as I found out later) she hadn’t been a knockout the day before. Her face looked kinda familiar, though, and I recalled that decrepit old woman. I assumed this gorgeous woman was that old woman’s granddaughter.

She introduced herself as Zelda. “Thank you, thank you, thank you!” she cried as she grabbed me, hugged me hard, and kissed me. I thought she would squeeze the life out of me. Luckily, she didn’t. She had other plans for me.

Zelda invited me to lunch at her house. Not realizing how stupid I was being, and following the stirrings in my cock her hugs and kisses had stimulated, I accepted. We never sat down at the table. After I arrived, she took me straight to her bedroom and I’ve been trapped here for five days.

As I was reminiscing, Zelda rolled over and her hand fell on my crotch. Even in her sleep, she wanted sex. Unfortunately, my penis is the only one available to her. Earlier, I wished I knew some local men I could persuade to take my place. But I always made it a point never to make anyone’s acquaintance wherever I went. I kept careful records so I never went to the same places twice. That way, no one would likely recognize me and remember my cons. 

Unfortunately, it turned out that my penis was the only one she could crave. That was another effect of the gadget. Imprinting. I was doomed.

Before all this, I hadn’t ever imagined being any woman’s sexual slave. Some guys might think that was their dream life, especially if their partner was as beautiful as Zelda was. I just wanted to run away.

“Just yesterday I was dying,” Zelda told me after the first time I made love to her. “Your device saved me. I didn’t know how to thank you. I don’t have much money, so I thought you might enjoy some sex.” I did enjoy it that first time. It had been a while since I’d had any. The times after that? I was enjoying each new one less and less.

By the fifth day, Zelda was still going into orbit, thrashing around, and screaming my name the second I slid inside her. I have to admit that kind of enthusiasm does wonders for a guy’s ego. I felt happy to please her. But, afterward, my dick was begging for mercy. Somehow, I felt there wasn’t going to be any. I just wanted to run away while she slept.

Those damned devices look like unique toys and captivate people but they aren’t supposed to do anything. Somehow, the device Zelda bought had actually worked. It had transformed her. Maybe that was what they were all supposed to do. If they actually worked.

Unless Zelda was somehow tricking me, she had looked like she was near death the first time I saw her. But she sure was healthy now. I prayed I was healthy enough to keep up with her sexual demands. 

As I lay beside her, I started to fantasize about how much money I could end up with if all the devices really worked. I’d be able to offer a genuine miracle cure and not snake oil. Then I wondered if I could find someone to repair them. Then I wondered if there was anyone who could break this one so I could get away from Zelda. Then I thought about what could happen to her if the device stopped working. Would she go back to being the decrepit nearly-dead woman she was when I first saw her? I felt guilty for being so selfish. Despite being her sex slave, I was starting to like Zelda and wouldn’t want anything bad to happen to her.

I knew I was trapped, a fate almost worse than death for a con artist. I also knew, although I was a good con man, I wasn’t going to be able to con my way out of Zelda’s grasp. The device wouldn’t let me. 

I regretted buying those devices from that alien and realized why he had accepted my lowball offer so readily. Son-of-a-bitch knew one or more of the devices wasn’t a dud. He probably watched and waited for me to sell the good one to somebody, just to see what would happen. Maybe that’s how he got his jollies. I hope he had his fun. 

A month after we met, I told Zelda the full story. I never expected her reaction. “Do you have more of these things?” she asked, shrewdly. 

“Yeah, thousands. In my warehouse. Why?” 

“You wanna have some fun?” she said. Fun other than sex? Sure! I nodded. “Let’s go looking for someone to foist them onto.”

I grinned. “You’re so devious, but I love it.”

She worked up a great con. Zelda had a photo that was taken the day before I met her. She looked like a walking corpse. We went to places where we could lure suckers and took the gadget with us. A couple of the people we approached had seen the device before and knew it was a dud. She showed them the photo to persuade them that it wasn’t. No one believed the photo was her ‘before’ picture. They weren’t interested.

Then we went to a café. As soon as we sat, a stranger came to our table. We couldn’t see his/her/its face. “Where did you get that thing?” the stranger asked. 

“I bought a shitload of them from a guy last year,” I replied. “Why?”

“Where did he get them?”

“I didn’t ask. Why?”

“Do you have any more?”

I nodded. “Back in my warehouse. Why?”

“How much do you want for them?” he asked. Zelda and I looked at each other. Maybe our spaceship had just come in. 

“Fifty-thousand,” I replied. I’d only paid ten and made almost a hundred thousand on the ones I’d already sold. I knew I wouldn’t be able to sell any more of them. Zelda didn’t want me traveling around anymore. 

“I’ll give you forty,” the stranger said.

“I’ll accept if you tell me what you know about them.”

“You really wanna know? You’re not gonna like it,” the stranger said. Zelda and I looked at each other and nodded. We were willing to take a chance.

He nodded toward the gadget. “They’re from the other side of the galaxy.”

“Who made them?” she asked.

“Well, robots created the originals. They’re the ones that function.”

“This one works perfectly,” Zelda pointed out.

“That’s probably the only one in the batch that does.”

“So the rest of them are worthless?” I asked.

“Not exactly,” it said.

“We don’t understand,” Zelda said.

“They were manufactured by humans on the robots’ many planets.” 

We knew of robot factories that made products for humans. Why not human factories that make products for robots? Seemed fair enough. 

“It’s not fair, my friend,” the stranger replied. Had it been reading my mind? “The real working devices are remote controls the robots use to manipulate their human slaves. They keep the slaves happy and healthy in order to get more work out of them. The fake boxes don’t work. The counterfeit gadgets are manufactured by a human revolutionary underground that trains humans to pretend to respond to the fake gadgets so the robots think they’re working, but they’re not. The plan is to infiltrate robot cities, fool the robot overlords, and overthrow them, eventually.”

“So how did they end up here on earth?” I couldn’t help asking.

“I don’t know, exactly, but I suspect the robots were fooled into thinking they were working devices and shipped them here in preparation for an invasion of this planet. They would have tried to use the devices to enslave humanity.”

“Oh. And what will you do with them?”

“Take them back so the infiltration on the robot worlds can continue.”

“If the humans overthrow their robot masters there, then they can’t come here. Am I right?” I asked. The stranger nodded. I didn’t hesitate. “Take them all. Here’s the passcode for the warehouse. Keep your money.” The stranger thanked us and walked away. 

Zelda smirked. “He was probably lying,” she said.

I nodded. “I know that. But what if he wasn’t?”

“He’s likely the same alien that sold them to you. He probably plants one good one in the batch, waits for it to be found, and then tracks it. Then he gets the warehouse full of devices for free and re-sells them to another con artist. It’s a nice con. Steady income, possibly for life.”

“Yeah. But what if he was telling the truth, Zelda? What if we just saved the earth?”

We never knew if we had actually saved the earth. All we knew for certain was that the device had saved Zelda and brought us together. For her and I, that was enough.