Twisted Tales for Toilet Time: Volume II, Part I

The Twisted Tales for Toilet Time Series project of short stories is aimed to be a collection of ultra-short short stories that can be read in the average duration of a toilet visit. Most of which fall into the category of the absurd and have little, to no real plot significance.

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The Well

A young boy walking through a small village came to a well that stood in the town square. He had seen it many times before, it was an old brick well with a rotting thatched roof, and a small pail that dangled by a torn piece of rope. It had not been used in many years and most of the people in the village ignored it whenever they passed by.

The boy often walked past the well, however something about it drew his attention today, something was different. He walked around the well, examining it from every angle, until he saw it. The reason it looked strange was that the cover that had always been over the opening was gone, exposing the deep, dark well.

The boy looked down into the well, and saw his pale reflection in the water below, he waved at himself, and laughed. He turned to leave the area and saw standing looking at the well was an old man, dirty and dishevelled in appearance, with an overgrown beard and long greasy hair underneath a woollen hat.

The man reached into his coat pocket and took out a bottle of something wrapped in brown paper, he took a big drink from it, then replaced the cap and returned the bottle to his pocket.

“I’m so sorry,” he said, tears welling in his eyes. “It was an accident.”

A Policeman stepped up behind the man, with him were some workers with tall gumboots and overalls, a long ladder carried between them.

“Down there lads,” said the Policeman. “The water has been dredged out, so it should be easy to find him.”

The boy went back to the well, and peered down before the workers climbed in. He could still see a pale reflection looking back at him.

“There’s water in there still, sir.” He said to the Policeman.

The Policeman didn’t seem to notice him, and began to place handcuffs on the old man and walk him to a patrol car. As they passed, the man locked eyes with the boy and held his gaze for a few moments.

“Billy,” he said, fear in his voice. “I’m so sorry.”

The boy felt uneasy after the man had stared at him and called him by name, the boy looked back to the well. The workers were bringing up the skeletal remains of a small body.

“He’s here,” they said, laying the body down on a tarp.

The policeman made a phone call,

“Hi chief, missing Person for thirty-five years, Billy Hayden’s body has been found. Person responsible was taken into custody.”

At that moment, the young boy began to feel like he was rising into the air, weightless and there was soon a bright light beginning to surround him.

The Wall

Ted ran as fast as he could away from the wall, his heart was pumping so fast and his vision started to blur. He wasn’t sure how long he could avoid it, he looked over and saw his best friend, Mike, get hit and drop to the ground. Mike was crying, pleading for it to stop, but they hit him again.

That’s not right, thought Ted, as he heard Mike’s screams echo across the field.

Ted’s feet left the paved ground he was running on as he began to run across the grassy field, he felt something zoom past his face, he felt the air hit his cheek moments after.

That was close.

The screams of others started to ring out, but he didn’t look back. Unwilling to face the sight of his friends down on the ground, suffering and crying out in pain. Ted didn’t know where to run now, there was nowhere to hide, no defence, and no means of retaliating. He heard one of the attackers yell out from close behind him as they gained on him.

“You’re finished now scumbag!”

A chill ran across Ted’s neck at the threat, another blur of movement rushed past his head as he continued to run over the grassy field, not knowing if it was worth fighting anymore, Ted made a decision. He would face his attacker, and face the pain that would come if he was to stop. He stopped running, and turned to face the oncoming threat.

“Okay, Alan,” said Ted. “Just get it over with…”

Ted stood his ground, and opened his arms wide, and closed his eyes. The pain hit his chest first with a sudden stinging impact. He fell to the ground, and yelled out in pain, the red ball bouncing away after hitting him, Alan’s throw had been straight and strong.

Ted looked up to face Alan, “Nice throw, dude.”

“You’re all out,” said Alan. “Your team’s turn to throw, we’ll go line up at the wall.”

The Will

If you’re reading this, it means I’m probably dead. I, Doctor Partario Klopper, Physician and world renowned taffy puller, being of sound mind and judgement leave this last will and testament.

To my darling wife, Rosy May Klopper. I leave the entirety of my estate, my teeth, and control over all finances, save for the noted exceptions.

To my eldest son, Imhotep II. I give all my remaining pets, including the taxidermy pets that are positioned throughout the house, and I also give you the keys to my extensive collection of filing cabinets, one of which contains a jar which holds my last breath. If you can find and inhale the breath within the year, and then breath it into the face of Archibald, the family solicitor, you will be awarded an extra ha'penny each year.

To my daughter, Eureka. I leave the vast collection of teaspoons housed within garage number three on the East lawn, on the provision that they each be used to make a cup of Earl Grey Tea once a year per spoon. I also leave you the photo frame that housed the only surviving photo of your grandmother.

To my youngest son, (NAME REDACTED). I leave the last surviving photo of your grandmother, four lottery scratch cards I found in the study, and seven dollars (to cover your bus fare to and from Archibald’s law office).

The rest of my belongings and articles of ceremonial taffy pulling clothes shall be divided equally amongst the following charity organisations.

- The Human Fund

- The Coalition for TV without Ads

- George Lucas’ Patreon Page

- Live Aid

- The S.T.I.R. F.R.Y.S (The Stanley’s Theorem Institute of Research and Funds For Yeti Searches)

Here ends the last will and testament of Doctor Partario Klopper. I hope you enjoyed this letter, and if you found the secret code hidden within, the answer is four.

Signed

Dr P. Klopper

Signed

Archibald Mann, (Esq.)