Well, Well, Well - 1. Well, Well, Well

You’ve all heard, seen, or read one or more stories about a kid getting trapped in a well, right? But how many are told from the well’s point of view? None, right? I thought not. Here’s one, at least.

As you may have guessed, I am a well. Eh, technically a flooded chasm. But any body of water can act as a well, can’t it? What is a well, anyway? A hole in the ground one can retrieve water from. So, drop a bucket in me, take it out, and therefore, I’m a well. But I will warn you; you don’t want to drink from that bucket.

But enough about me; this is really about Lincoln Cody. Lincoln was only six years old when he so rudely invaded my personal space. There I was, my water surface as calm as glass, and splash! My tranquility was ruined. My months of peace and calm were obliterated. The little fucker even had on muddy sneakers.

Do you know how long it takes that shit to settle to the bottom? No? Neither do I, but I know it’s way too long. Especially with the little invader thrashing around. And in this case, I do mean shit. Not all that dirt on his sneakers came from Mother Earth. Nooooo, the twit had to step in a pile of dog shit before tumbling down into me.

Dirt, I can handle. But swallowing dog shit? Not very pleasant, let me tell you. So anyway, little Lincoln rolled down the hill above me, dragging dirt, leaves, sticks, and rocks down with him, along with the dog shit of course. How do I know it was dog shit, you may ask? The dog was down here for a time too. That very same shit stuck to its ass was on Lincoln’s sneakers. How do I know it was the same? I had a DNA test done. No, I just knew; we holes can tell things like that. And the fucking scratches on my walls? I had to open a new exit, so the damn dog didn’t scratch my privates.

What? A crevasse can’t have privates you say? Where do you think those lovely waterfalls you see all over the place come from? Right, they’re a hole’s pee hole. Is that redundant? And are all those waterfalls crystal clear water? Not on your life, buddy boy. We holes have asses too. They’re not assholes though. No, they’re hole-asses. No, not molasses you dumb shit. Do I stutter or something?

So, back to hot rod Lincoln. I call him that because he was running along my head when he slipped and fell into my mouth. Is personification of an inanimate object so wrong to do? What do you call that thing on your top? And what’s the largest hole a little below that? Begrudge me for having a head and mouth, will you? I have teeth in that mouth too, you know. Okay, you call them rocks, but they’re sharp enough to have sliced Lincoln’s little legs a bit. Really, just a little. Great. So, now I have blood to deal with.

And is there any rain in the forecast that I can use to rinse it out of my mouth? It’s fucking July in California, what do you think? Okay, so the water already in my mouth isn’t very clean. I guess you’d even call it stagnant. Sorry, but I haven’t swallowed a dentist lately with a leaky bottle of mouthwash in his pocket.

And why the fuck do you people always send Lassie to come rescue the kid? It’s not always Timmy falling into us underground bodies of water, you know. Case in point, LINCOLN! Does that even look or sound like Timmy? I may not have eyes or ears, but even I know it doesn’t.

And the noise! Damn, who would have thought a little six-year-old boy could scream that loud? Oh, right, I don’t have ears, huh? Well, you know when that tree falls in the forest with no people around, we holes still hear it. Yes. We do. Don’t argue with me, are you a fucking hole so you know? No. So, STFU. And most of us have sensitive hearing. That fucking Niagara guy must be deaf for all the noise he makes.

So, back to Timmy, damn, now you have me doing it. Lincoln. Lincoln, okay? So, he lands in my mouth like an Alka-Seltzer tablet. One plop, no fizz. But of course, he’s scared, so there is whizz. Yep, the fall scared the piss out of him. Now I have shit, blood, and piss in my mouth. Oh, fuck. He swallowed enough water, he’s puking now. Sure, just add one more insult to my injury.

At least Timmy… fuck, you made me do it again, Lincoln, already. At least he had the decency to not break a leg, like happened to a buddy of mine. Yes, we holes have friends. Except that Grand Canyon. She has no friends, the cu… nope, don’t call her that. Anyway, she’s a showoff, so none of us other holes like her. Anyway, this buddy was pretty much all dirt. No, I’ll bypass that pun. So, his kid broke a leg, bone sticking out through the skin, which stabs my friend in the eye. Fortunately, they yanked the kid out, so there was no permanent damage. We can’t have blind holes lying around all over the place. Bad enough, there are blind driveways. Of course they’re blind. Stupid sign makers, no eyes equals blind.

Sorry, tangent time. I had another friend, clod rest his hole, had the kid die in him. You people found the kid weeks later. Not a pretty sight, but I don’t want to gross you out. Never mind, I will. The kid was already putrid by the time he was discovered. All funky colors. Fucking bloodhounds couldn’t find him; they had to bring in the cadaver dogs. Anyway, they filled my friend in. He was a sink hole, so they buried him in concrete. Damn cruel if you ask me.

Okay, I’ve had a bad enough day, time to fart the little putz out. Just a little earthquake; I don’t want to hurt him. Two-point-five ought to do it. Who the fuck am I kidding? I’d kill the little jerk if it didn’t lead to them filling me in.

Ah, that was a nice nap. What the hell is that grinding sound? Oh, no. No, no, no, no, no. Get that dump truck of topsoil away from mmmfff, cough, cough.

The End