Olan poured Drano down the tube into the roiling bath tub. This was sure to help. The water was beginning to shift from it’s previous rust-brown to a vaguely greenish shade that closely resembled his little brother’s diapers after force-fed peas. Little bubbles started bursting through the swirling skin of muck that floated on top of the tepid water. Finally, the it was doing it’s job, and the water began to lower a bit at a time, leaving a sediment rim on the bathtub’s white porcelain.
Then, it stopped. He heard a gurgling sound rumble through the pipes, so he leaned back, fearing the worst. But the water let out a tiny hiccup. After a few seconds, he leaned back forward to pour the rest of the bottle in. As he tilted the bottle down, the tub belched up the rest of the air, and a giant bubble popped into his face.
He nearly fell backward, turning to the toilet as he could feel himself start to heave as he wiped the brown liquid off his face. He didn’t know what it was, but he was glad for that. It took a second, but he recovered, the scent of the putrid liquid mixing with his leftover beer-breathe.
This wasn’t the way he had planned to spend his last Sunday of high school, but he thought of the night before. All he could really remember was walking past the ping-pong table and crashing on the couch. But he woke up with a pair of strawberry-print panties in his pocket, and he knew it was probably all worth it, if only he could remember.
With the liquid on his nose, he figured he’d take the time to scrub the permanent-marker-penis off his face--a small price to pay for the best party ever. But as soon as the tip was erased, he heard the front door open, which wasn’t supposed to happen until late that night.
He ran down the stairs, shirt streaked with brown sludge, and there, in the entryway were his parents and sister, jaws open, horrified to see the red dixie cups and plates that plagued the living room like shrapnel.
“Uh...Hi?” He said, not able to say anything else. His sister took a step forward.
“You’re such an idiot,” she said, bumping into him on her way up the stairs. “Hey, what are you doing with my panties, you perv!”
Olan poured Drano down the tube into the roiling bath tub. This was sure to help. The water was beginning to shift from it’s previous rust-brown to a vaguely greenish shade that closely resembled his little brother’s diapers after force-fed peas. Little bubbles started bursting through the swirling skin of muck that floated on top of the tepid water. Finally, the it was doing it’s job, and the water began to lower a bit at a time, leaving a sediment rim on the bathtub’s white porcelain.
ReplyDeleteThen, it stopped. He heard a gurgling sound rumble through the pipes, so he leaned back, fearing the worst. But the water let out a tiny hiccup. After a few seconds, he leaned back forward to pour the rest of the bottle in. As he tilted the bottle down, the tub belched up the rest of the air, and a giant bubble popped into his face.
He nearly fell backward, turning to the toilet as he could feel himself start to heave as he wiped the brown liquid off his face. He didn’t know what it was, but he was glad for that. It took a second, but he recovered, the scent of the putrid liquid mixing with his leftover beer-breathe.
This wasn’t the way he had planned to spend his last Sunday of high school, but he thought of the night before. All he could really remember was walking past the ping-pong table and crashing on the couch. But he woke up with a pair of strawberry-print panties in his pocket, and he knew it was probably all worth it, if only he could remember.
With the liquid on his nose, he figured he’d take the time to scrub the permanent-marker-penis off his face--a small price to pay for the best party ever. But as soon as the tip was erased, he heard the front door open, which wasn’t supposed to happen until late that night.
He ran down the stairs, shirt streaked with brown sludge, and there, in the entryway were his parents and sister, jaws open, horrified to see the red dixie cups and plates that plagued the living room like shrapnel.
“Uh...Hi?” He said, not able to say anything else. His sister took a step forward.
“You’re such an idiot,” she said, bumping into him on her way up the stairs. “Hey, what are you doing with my panties, you perv!”
Best night ever? Worth it? Not anymore.
LOL! Ryan this was great!! Welcome to Flashy!
ReplyDeleteThanks! Glad to be here!
ReplyDelete