Read Online Uncle John’s Bathroom Reader Presents Flush Fiction by Bathroom Readers’ Institute - Free Book Online
Authors: Bathroom Readers’ Institute
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“Now I have something for you.” She reached into her rucksack and took out a dozen little New Testaments bound in red leather.
Oh, no, said one of them, her eyes wide with shock, Chairman Mao!
No, no, no, they shrieked. Against fatherland. Against Great Leader. Total nuclear wah!
Agnes laughed good-naturedly, “These are Bibles, dears.”
They glanced at one another, their anger subsiding. Bible ? one of them said tentatively.
Jesus ? another suggested. There was a murmur among them. Matthew, another one said. “Good,” Agnes said. Mark , said another. Luke, John, said yet another. Agnes clapped her hands in glee, and then they put the names of the Gospellers into a chant, Matthew, Mark, Luke, John, Matthew, Mark, Luke, John .
“Very good,” Agnes said, and one of them tittered, which caused the others to giggle, too, until they sounded like delighted hamsters.
The one who had put the wreath around Agnes’s neck told her, Great Leader say you teach us to be Olympic billiard champions.
“Billiards?” she said.
Six ball in side pocket , said one.
I shoot mass shot , said another.
Suddenly, Agnes had a brainstorm: Suppose, instead of targets, pool tables could be set up at intervals along the ski course. They would race to the first table, run a rack, and then race to the next one.
Did they have pool tables when Jesus was growing up? She pictured Jesus with his beard and his long white robe, walking around the table as he chalked his cue, calling, Combination off the six. Wump, wump, wump: three balls in one shot.
It would be like the Stations of the Cross.
Or cross-country billiards, an entirely new Olympic event.
Agnes clapped her hands. “Take me to your leader!”
Headhunter
William R. D. Wood
E veryone remembers where they were the day magic returned. Personally, I’d been at it all day, sitting in the little conference room, interviewing applicants for the one opening down at Mega Pest Control. Times were tough and the competition was heavy.
The television in the corner was full of impossible images. Unicorns wandered around Times Square. A dragon batted at airplanes on a taxiway at Reagan International. Huge serpents swam Nessie-like down the Mississippi. And a swarm of fairies— freaking fairies —chased children in a schoolyard in Topeka.
I thought it was an elaborate hoax, like the one in the pretelevision years by that fat radio guy, but as the day wore on, the news coverage continued on every channel. Whatever force borrowed or stole the magic eons ago had paid it back with interest.
I scratched at one of several nasty bites on my neck and shuffled applications and legal pads on the table. The day had been long and I was ready to pack it in when Sue leaned in the door, her faced scrunched in an expression I didn’t quite get. “Oscar, you have one more…applicant.”
Oh, well. I deal mostly with the trades: HVAC, plumbing, extermination, and the like. A little overspecialized, maybe, but I’ve got a knack, I’ve been told, and that’s why they hire me again and again. I’m just good at matching hardworking applicants with eager employers. Call it a gift. Not rocket science. You just have to watch for the signs and trust your gut.
I sighed and settled back into my chair, swatting at another of the monster flies that had been pestering me all day. Biggest bugs I’d ever seen. “Send ‘im in.”
The floor shook once, then twice. Good God. Were those footsteps ?
An ogre stepped into room, his head hunched to avoid the drop ceiling.
I scrabbled to my feet, almost falling backwards over my folding chair. My heart pounded. Something programmed deep into my genes wailed at me to flee high into the trees or into a dark hole too small for it to follow. When he didn’t attack immediately, I forced myself to breathe slowly, gaining my composure. These were different times. Aside from being big as a gorilla on growth hormones, he could have passed for a 1980s Arnold
Oh, no, said one of them, her eyes wide with shock, Chairman Mao!
No, no, no, they shrieked. Against fatherland. Against Great Leader. Total nuclear wah!
Agnes laughed good-naturedly, “These are Bibles, dears.”
They glanced at one another, their anger subsiding. Bible ? one of them said tentatively.
Jesus ? another suggested. There was a murmur among them. Matthew, another one said. “Good,” Agnes said. Mark , said another. Luke, John, said yet another. Agnes clapped her hands in glee, and then they put the names of the Gospellers into a chant, Matthew, Mark, Luke, John, Matthew, Mark, Luke, John .
“Very good,” Agnes said, and one of them tittered, which caused the others to giggle, too, until they sounded like delighted hamsters.
The one who had put the wreath around Agnes’s neck told her, Great Leader say you teach us to be Olympic billiard champions.
“Billiards?” she said.
Six ball in side pocket , said one.
I shoot mass shot , said another.
Suddenly, Agnes had a brainstorm: Suppose, instead of targets, pool tables could be set up at intervals along the ski course. They would race to the first table, run a rack, and then race to the next one.
Did they have pool tables when Jesus was growing up? She pictured Jesus with his beard and his long white robe, walking around the table as he chalked his cue, calling, Combination off the six. Wump, wump, wump: three balls in one shot.
It would be like the Stations of the Cross.
Or cross-country billiards, an entirely new Olympic event.
Agnes clapped her hands. “Take me to your leader!”
Headhunter
William R. D. Wood
E veryone remembers where they were the day magic returned. Personally, I’d been at it all day, sitting in the little conference room, interviewing applicants for the one opening down at Mega Pest Control. Times were tough and the competition was heavy.
The television in the corner was full of impossible images. Unicorns wandered around Times Square. A dragon batted at airplanes on a taxiway at Reagan International. Huge serpents swam Nessie-like down the Mississippi. And a swarm of fairies— freaking fairies —chased children in a schoolyard in Topeka.
I thought it was an elaborate hoax, like the one in the pretelevision years by that fat radio guy, but as the day wore on, the news coverage continued on every channel. Whatever force borrowed or stole the magic eons ago had paid it back with interest.
I scratched at one of several nasty bites on my neck and shuffled applications and legal pads on the table. The day had been long and I was ready to pack it in when Sue leaned in the door, her faced scrunched in an expression I didn’t quite get. “Oscar, you have one more…applicant.”
Oh, well. I deal mostly with the trades: HVAC, plumbing, extermination, and the like. A little overspecialized, maybe, but I’ve got a knack, I’ve been told, and that’s why they hire me again and again. I’m just good at matching hardworking applicants with eager employers. Call it a gift. Not rocket science. You just have to watch for the signs and trust your gut.
I sighed and settled back into my chair, swatting at another of the monster flies that had been pestering me all day. Biggest bugs I’d ever seen. “Send ‘im in.”
The floor shook once, then twice. Good God. Were those footsteps ?
An ogre stepped into room, his head hunched to avoid the drop ceiling.
I scrabbled to my feet, almost falling backwards over my folding chair. My heart pounded. Something programmed deep into my genes wailed at me to flee high into the trees or into a dark hole too small for it to follow. When he didn’t attack immediately, I forced myself to breathe slowly, gaining my composure. These were different times. Aside from being big as a gorilla on growth hormones, he could have passed for a 1980s Arnold
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