If you made a deal with the devil but retroactively regret your decision, remain calm — I found a human soul in a hopeless place.
I bought a human soul for $4.99 on Amazon (plus shipping because I used my free trial of Amazon Prime on season two of Transparent). It seemed less horrifying than this $3,000 "genuine human soul" on eBay. The product description for my economical soul sounded promising:
"Hello. Do you want a soul to be able to apply to your own body? Well, we have the product for you! We have compiled very educated and successful souls and you can now purchase them! Enjoy!"
*adds to cart*
This particular human soul is "alive" and five grams. I know that physician Duncan "Om" McDougall theorized that a human soul weighs in on average at 21 grams, but I haven't inked a deal with the Prince of Darkness — I just purchased this out of curiosity, so I didn't need the full bounty.
My human soul arrived about two weeks later. It was delayed, but unlike the Oculus Rift community, human soul consumers don't have a subreddit to voice their shipping-delays woes. Patience is a virtue, soul-suckers.
It shipped in a large manila envelope, which wasn't exactly what I expected such precious cargo to travel in, but it was secured with an added layer of tape.
Inside, there was a tiny, seemingly empty container and a typed note that read:
"Thank you for your order. We apologize for the delayed shipping time.
For your human soul, you can display it on a shelf or open it up and place it next to you and let the extraction begin. It is up to you. We hope you enjoy and hope you can purchase from us again.
Oli Official Sales"
Like any good first-time soul consumer, I did a background check to see where this spirit came from. The return address pulled up a postal office on Google Street View and nothing legitimate appeared when I searched for the company name. So I emailed the source, and I was delighted with my vendor — none other than 13-year-old editor-in-chief of The Investment Times newsletter, Oliver Leopold. If you're going to buy a human soul from anyone, who better than a teen with a LinkedIn account and Apple stock?
I was pleased to learn that I didn't just receive an empty vial, but instead a container of "a little bit of perfume to make it believable," Leopold told me in an email. And I wasn't buying from some internet stranger, but from an aspirational teen just looking to break into the human soul market.
Since we last spoke, Leopold has created an official website for Oli Official Sales and added another purchasable human soul to its Amazon marketplace.
"I am working on growing the Oli Official Sales brand," Leopold said.
And stay tuned: Soon to hit the market from Oli Official Sales is an Imaginary Friend.