[ WP ] A scientist creates a machine that generates bad luck . Anyone within range of the field while the device is active suffers consistently bad luck until it 's turned off or they move out of range .

`` I assume you are here to see the machine.'' Dr. Murphy paused taking a good look at her audience. The crowd had a mixed appearance, however not too mixed. The men outnumbered the women two to one and enough non-Caucasian faces sprinkled the crowd to make it clear that they came from an equal opportunity employer. Some members of the crowd wore suits, while others military uniforms. 
 
 `` Yes'' A man in the crowd piped up. `` Your work in the field is remarkable and the Department of Defense takes great interest in what you are doing.'' 
 
 `` Very well'' Dr. Murphy smiled. The woman had an oddly pleasant smile which did n't seem to fit her otherwise severe features. 
 
 Dr Murphy stood a towering 6 feet tall on skin and bones. Her hair, bright red grew in jagged frizzy curls and her pale steely blue eyes pierced through a set of thick-rimmed glasses. She stood tall, proud and every time she opened her mouth the military members in front of her appeared to almost stand to attention. 
 
 `` Well I, being named Murphy, am going to set forth a series of Murphy's laws.'' Dr. Murphy chuckled in lonesome, usually the crowd reacted more positively to that pun. `` Before you enter the room, please be aware that anything that can go wrong will go wrong. I am going to set up some suggestions about who can enter and who should stay behind that line over there.'' 
 
 `` I thought we all could be there to see the machine work?'' A young general spoke. `` We need to ensure that this is the real deal. if this works it could be invaluable in the war effort, if not...'' His voice trailed off. 
 
 `` Yeah, and how big is this thing anyway?'' A suited woman asked in a shrill, nasally voice. The mere sound of her voice caused Dr. Murphy's jaw to clench. `` We need it small enough for the enemy not to notice when we drop it on their side.'' 
 
 `` In due time.'' Dr. Murphy cooed, attempting to placate the crowd. `` But first, ground rules. Disobey them at your own peril.'' 
 
 Dr. Murphy reached for a piece of paper that her assistant handed her. She adjusted her glasses and began to read. 
 
 `` Is anyone here pregnant?'' 
 
 The room stood still. 
 
 `` Is anyone here trying to become pregnant?'' 
 
 More silence. 
 
 `` Is anyone hoping to reproduce or reproduce some more at any point in the future?'' 
 
 Not a word. 
 
 `` Any family or personal history of cancer, heart problems, high blood pressure, mental illness or any remotely heritable medical conditions?'' 
 
 Still more silence. Dr. Murphy's face began to take on a reddish appearance. She understood the skepticism of the crowd, however now it tasted of disrespect. She reassured herself that it would be their funeral. 
 
 `` Does anyone have any surgery coming up or a loved one with any of these issues? Anyone with a lot of money tied up in stocks, any big life moments, marriage? Does everyone have enough savings to handle job loss? Smokers? How about car, health, and home insurance?'' 
 
 The crowd continued to lack any response, they just stood there staring blankly at the doctor. This made her even more irate. 
 
 `` PEOPLE, I AM SERIOUS!'' She boomed attempting to fill them with a sense of urgency. `` I have seen people enter that room and have heart attacks, get diagnosed shortly after with cancer, go crazy, get phone calls from their fiance's lovers, lose all their money, lose their jobs...'' her voiced trailed off, but despite that warning the crowd remained unaffected. 
 
 `` Well, fine, it's your funeral.'' This time she said it out loud. She had waited her entire career for this opportunity, she attempted to convince herself - If half the crowd got cancer, so what? She warned them. It would only further prove the effectiveness of her machine. She could cry herself to sleep over the infertility, infidelity and financial ruin that awaited these people on her hefty government contract. 
 
 With one arm the doctor motioned to the crowd. They followed her through a long corridor to the room where a small black box with an'on' switch sat on a fold-out table. 
 
 `` This is it.'' Dr. Murphy gestured at the machine. `` When I press that switch be prepared to see the switch light up, hear a small whirring noise and to have all hell break loose.'' 
 
 The crowd shifted back and forth, at least she finally got a reaction out of them. Pleased with herself, Dr. Murphy flipped the switch. 
 
 Nothing.
