The Obscure

Ah! My guests have arrived. Take a seat, my dears, and listen to my tale of woe...

It began early on a Saturday morning, a long time ago, I awoke quite early and I fancied a walk would do me good. I took a quick shower just to get the grime of sleep off of my body, searched briefly for my shoes and jacket, and set off! I was not quite off the stairs when I heard a low and raspy voice whisper to me.
"Happy holidays, stranger."
Quite startled, I whirled around to meet my well-wisher.
"Yes, Merry Christmas and Salutations!" I shouted cheerfully. He fell into a fit of coughing, and I took that chance to quickly observe the man. He was short, about a head and shoulders shorter than myself. His hair was thin and patchy, his face was gaunt and drawn. He looked very sickly, one of his eyes was in a perpetual squint, as if he were always scrutinizing or puzzling something out. His clothes were worn and tattered. His shoes patched and dirty. But most noticable was the cap he held in both hands. It was a bowler's cap, he held it like a bowl (a fitting manner for such a hat) and in it lay watches and bracelets and gems without number. I stared in awe at the hat, mouth agape. This man looked to be a vagabond, yet he had the wealth of a king!
He recovered and resumed his speech.
"My name is Porfiry Drukenovich." our obviously Russian man stated, "And I am here to offer you a bargain. " He added in his obviously Russian accent.
Me being the usually thrifty fellow I am, piqued at the thought of a bargain; it was quite obvious that I should pursue the idea, especially after viewing the contents of his hat.
"Go on." I said noncommittedly. It was not becoming of one to be seen bargaining with street vendors (if 'vendor' is not too polished a term for this particular Commie Bastard).
"My offer is a simple one. You perform the conditions of the bargain, and you will obtain any item of your choice that is held before me now."
I had begun to salivate before these words were even fully off of his blistered lips; without of course, letting on that I was inclined to agree to the conditions of the deal. The reason for this waste of oral enzymes was sitting atop the pile of treasures in Porfiry's derby. Not a ring or a bracelet or even a necklace, like most fated jewelries. No, this was a mystical, and apparently also magical, golden belt buckle.
"I see you fancy my belt buckle here. Yes, most of my customers choose that item at first, but they usually don't go through with the bargain. Also if by some chance they do go through with it, the warning I give them against the buckle hinders their choosing in any case. You see, this is no ordinary belt buckle.", As if I could not tell that the belt buckle was abnormal, it seemd to suck light towards it as if it were a gravitational pull, "This belt buckle contains tremendous power and worth, the power even to change time and space, change the very fabric of the universe! But with it comes a great and terrible curse, that will inevitably lead to the destruction of the bearer. I can tell you no more."
I thought about this briefly, of course I was intrigued; but the whole curse was kind of a downer. I opted to ask him was his conditions for this bargain was.
"Why it is only your left hand, good sir. Just give me your left hand and the buckle is yours, but you must remember, the buckle can only be owned by someone who has given up their left hand to own it. Once you have it, it is yours till you can convince someone to trade with you; and with it you can never die a natural death."
My left hand?! Surely to give it up would be madness. But on the other hand (every possible pun intended) I do not often use my left hand, save when opening chips or soda. Perhaps it would be worth it, after all, if the buckle truly did possess the powers he claimed, couldn't I just create a new hand when I was done? I decided it was worth it.
"It is a deal!", Porfiry cried in glee, drawing a bent and wicked dagger from beneath his cloak, "Be done with it!" With a quick hack he took my left hand down the nub. As he placed the dagger back though, I viewed his left hand, or rather lack thereof, and I knew I had made a mistake. The belt buckle flew from the hat to my right hand, I barely caught it and in the effort lost my balance. I fell to the ground, and from there I heard our most compassionate friend Porfiry's evil cackle.
"At last! I am free!"
Porfiry disapeared in a puff of smoke, "That was weird." I said, and, having forgotten myself for a moment, picked up the buckle and tried to put it on. It fell to the floor.
"What the hell?" I said, quite confused. I tried again to achieve the same disappointing result. Again and again I tried but I could not get the buckle to stay on, it was impossible without the use of my left hand. I could not manuever the mechanism with my useless nub! With horror I realized the curse of the buckle. Great power it contained, yes; but without the left hand to get it on, you are left with nothing but a hunk of metal. The moral is this, never bargain with a hobo.

But to the point of this visit; I've noticed you are a collector of belt buckles...