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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/2153004-The-Butts-Have-It
Rated: E · Short Story · Horror/Scary · #2153004
The Plumbers Visited my Home
The Butts Have It

Elliott pulled into his driveway, just happy to be home. It had been a long week at work and his Friday beer was calling his name. He had a weekend of relaxation planned. He wasn't quite sure if that would fit into his wife, Shannon's, plans. He would argue that point later, but for now, he could almost taste the dark malt ale sitting in his fridge. There was a new spring in his step as he exited the car.

He greeted his wife with a cheerful "hello" only to be rewarded with a grumbling groan as a reply, a residue of her long week. Elliott refused to be rebuked, grabbing Shannon in a short embrace. She relented stiffly. He released her, while sprinting to the fridge in one smooth move. He thought his good mood and randomly initiated hug would reap spousal brownie points later. As he entered the kitchen, the smell of rotten eggs struck him, not only quenching his thirst for beer but invoking the need to vomit.

"What the hell is that smell?"

"That is what I was trying to tell when you danced in here. The plumbing has backed up. The whole house smells like sewer gas. I opened the windows to clear it out, but it's taking awhile. I need you to get the fans out and going. I called the plumber already. He won't be here for at least an hour, so we must enjoy the stench until then. Happy Friday, dear" Shannon explained.

She pinched her nose daring to enter the kitchen, waving away the invisible odor with her free hand. The slender blonde newlywed was just as frustrated by her week, as her husband. She opened the fridge to grab two dark malted brews.

"I think we might need these to keep a smile on face, tonight. Now, get those fans going!" Shannon said as she handed Elliott his prize.

Elliott went to work airing out the house while sipping his beer. Somehow it wasn't what he had in mind when he thought about the rendezvous with his bottled friend. No doubt, life threw you curves. Sharing it with Shannon, at least made it bearable.

Amazingly, thirty minutes later a van carrying two plumbers, pulled up in front of the brick ranch home Elliott, couldn't help but laugh at the logo emblazoned on the side of the van, "Your Shit Is our shit Call 1- 80C-rapShoot" It demonstrated truth in advertising, at its finest He was going to have to offer these two a beer, for sure. Elliott was feeling better about the current plumbing situation. The thought was short lived.

The first man to enter the house was approximately six foot tall and three hundred pounds. He wore his plumber's identification on his backside. The stereotypical shining moon of the plumber was Elliott's introduction to the pair. Shannon nudged her husband to keep him from commenting on the view. Elliott was well trained and kept his mouth shut. Fred was the man's name, but Elliott thought Full Moon was a better moniker for the man.

The second man was taller and skinnier, but reeked of body odor. The man's coveralls were splattered with unidentifiable brown sludge. Elliot stood in his living room trying to decide which aroma was the least tolerable, sewer stench or armpit sweat. He mindlessly redirected the blowing fans toward his new visitor Elliott's action brought another nudging from his spouse. The home owner gave the men some credit for wearing blue paper booties on their feet, so as to not track the muck into the house. Elliott dubbed the skinny dude the name of "Le pew" in deference to his favorite cartoon character. His actual name was Frank.

"What's the problem? " Le Pew asked in a garbled semblance of a sentence.

Elliott couldn't resist taunting the man, "You can't smell the problem?"

"It does smell pretty bad. What you think is causing it?" Le Pew responded taking no notice of Elliott's comment.


Elliott whistled a low humming release of air before resuming the conversation. "Well, that is why we called you guys. We assume there is a back-up in the sewer, but you are the professionals. So, you tell us," his frustration now showing, as he rolled his eyes at his wife.

"Yup, you might be right. We'll take a look. C'mon Fred. We got another job." Le Pew called to the full moon man. Fred shrugged his shoulders and followed.

Elliott darted into the kitchen leading the way. His first act was to grab more beer, before pointing to the sink. He retreated to the living room to leave the plumbers to the stench. Scooting Shannon out to the deck with a nudge and a wink, they giggled at the pair now lingering in their abode.

"Where did you find these guys?" Elliott whispered.

Don't make me laugh. Grady, down the street recommended them. Remind me not, to invite him to our party next month. Shit, this is going to be bad isn't it?" Shannon said as she uncapped her second beer.

"I don't know, but I am afraid about what is hiding in that butt crack, for sure," Elliott remarked in his smart ass fashion.

"We'll just wait and see what they tell us. We might have to call someone else if they can't figure it out." Shannon said as she turned to see Full Moon standing behind her, in all of his massive girth. She backed away to give him room.

"We got a problem. We got to put a camera down the pipes. It costs three hundred. You okay with that?"

Elliott assumed his responsible adult demeanor before answering, "What will that tell us, Fred?" He fought hard to use the correct name.

"You got sludge in the drains. Need to check for tree roots. Don't know how far out from the drain the problem goes. Camera will show us what's down there."

"So the camera costs three hundred to use, but how much to actually fix the drains?" Elliott questioned the man.

"Can't tell yet. We'll let you know. Something really bad down there!" Full Moon turned to reenter the house without waiting for a response.

"Oh shit, Shannon, what did you get us into?'

Trying not to show anger at her new husband, Shannon plopped down on the deck sitting Indian style. "Listen dude, you got somebody better lined up, bring them on. We cannot live with that smell," she giggled as she spoke.

"Okay, okay let's see where this goes. Did you call your dad?" He's good with plumbing."

"Out of town. Remember?"

"We're screwed!"

The next visitor to the deck was Le Pew. In his garbled English he said,"Need to come inside, quick. Never seen nothing like this!"

The pair bounced off their seats to rush towards the kitchen. Coming from the drain, shooting through the air like a fountain of chocolate, was thick black goo with contents unknown. The odor was gagging. A multitude of flies flew out of the goo, free from the confines of the sink. A cloud of odorous smoke erupted behind the goo. The sink emitted a deafening growl sending the group in retreat.

"That stinks!" Le Pew was quick to share.

Full Moon offered his commentary, as well, "Ewww gross"

The current state of affairs caused Shannon to blow up, as Elliott had never seen before. It made him proud. "Alright brainiacs, what now? You have unleashed some kind of hell in my kitchen," the woman screamed.

"Don't know what caused that mess. Gonna have to dig up the pipes in the yard to see what's happenin' down there."

Shannon was now in full rampage toward the pair. Elliott was impressed, but stood between the men and his wife to ensure their safety. "What do you mean dig up my pipes? What about my kitchen?" the petite woman raged.

"Can't fix that til' we know what's causing it. Might be your pipe is broken underground," the plumber duo responded in unison.

Shannon wore her anger, on her visibly red face "Thank you, for coming but we will get someone else to fix this. Good day."

"Nope, we done it We gotta fix it. Gotta reputation to uphold," Le Pew said as he headed to the back yard, ignoring the woman's concerns. Full Moon headed to the van to retrieve tools for the job. He returned carrying, shovels, rope, a pick ax, and several items that resembled old fashioned gas masks.

Shannon continued to scream at Le Pew, while Elliott pondered the best way to stop the men from excavating his beloved yard. He desperately wanted another beer, but he refused to let these idiots start digging. Full Moon offered a mask to Shannon, with her blankly accepting the gift.

Elliott yelled, "Everybody, stop what you are doing right now!"

Le Pew momentarily turned in his direction, while plunging the shovel deep into the earth. Full Moon joined in the digging, with the mask squeezed tightly against his face. Their shovels flew at a rapid and frenzied pace. The glint of obsession shined in their eyes. Fiendish grunts accompanied the lifting of each spade of dirt uprooted. A violent demented hint of madness to their actions filled the air.

The couple stood watching, befuddled on how to stop the wayward plumbers. They donned their masks for protection, from what exactly, remained to be seen. It was hard to believe the evil possession of plumbers had become their Friday night entertainment.


Elliott moved to call 911 to report the events, just as a cloud of black soot climbed out of the dirt. He clung tight to his wife, viewing the drama unfolding before him. He could see the edge of the pipe, as the plumbers worked to unbury it like a cursed coffin. Serpents, large and venomous wiggled in the dirt that surrounded the pipe. Le Pew and Full Moon were feverish in their determination. A swarm of buzzing black flies escaped interment.Ghostly demons formed in clouds of black smoke, exiting the pit in pursuit of the flies. Enchanted by their freedom from the underground, the gargoyles from hell flew scattering in all directions. The pipe crumbled with its pieces, falling into the depths of a massive grave that was once Elliott's yard. Le Pew was the first to fall into the pit, screaming in his descent. Full Moon toppled half-way into the crater, leaving only his butt crack visible. It was the last thing Elliott saw, as he grabbed Shannon to run into the house.

He could hear in background the operator's automated response, "911 What is your emergency?"

In his frantic, smart ass disbelief, all Elliott could think of to say was, "The devil just gave my plumber the worst wedgie you have ever seen. Please, send help."

Word count 1816


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© Copyright 2018 L.A. Grawitch (lgrawitch at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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