The Adventures of Uncle Poop and Aunt Rat - The Car Races

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Literary Fiction  |  House: Booksie Classic
Uncle Poop was an easy going, sort of rat, with a cross to bear like many of us unfortunates, a wife straight from the bowels of Hell: Aunt Rat.

Submitted: December 08, 2008

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Submitted: December 08, 2008



It was a shiny new day when Uncle Poop rose from his floating bed. He pulled himself over to the rim and poked his head up above the bowl.  Nope, his wife,  Aunt Rat was not up yet...What a sleepy head.  Today was a special day because they were both going to the sports car races.  Just then his thoughts were interrupted by the scuttling of tiny nails on the bahroom floor.  There she was the "Apple of his eye", his "Furry Forest of Passion"....Aunt Rat.

"My Dear, your mole looks especially beautiful today" he said.  She smiled a dark, sharp, toothy grin.  " I combed it today, especially for you."  Uncle Poop explained his plans for the day and they were immediately accepted.  They would leave as soon as the Red Booger Mobile was ready.  They were so proud of their new vehicle and looked forward to each opportunity to show it off.

Within an hour they were on their way, squeezed into their vehicle, with their lunch: a few old cigarettes Aunt Rat had retrieved from the garbage and a nice little tin of maggots.  They could hardly wait!

Just then a big shadow covered the bright sunny sky.  Aunt Rat turned to Uncle Poop and asked if they should have brought an umbrella?  He quickly answered, he didn't think so, the clouds seemed to be passing.  What Uncle Poop didn't know was that it wasn't clouds.  Instead it was a big dog that had raised his leg against a giant fire hydrant.  Immediately, Uncle Poop and Aunt Rat were covered with torrential rain...of the doggy-kind.  Aunt Rat was washed right out of her seat, while Uncle Poop clung to the steering wheel.  "Grab onto something with that hairy mole of yours!"  he called.  Her stick legs kicked, her crooked fingers clawed and her hairy mole just looked gross, but there was no stopping the furry snowball as it tumbled down the road.  It finally came to a stop just before disappearing down a road grate.  Uncle Poop jumped from the car and floated down to the grate.

"My precious, are you down there, can you hear me?"  Yes, was the answer, but I can't get up the walls.  Uncle Poop got Aunt Rat to tie a loop in her mole hair and toss it up throught the grate.  Then he pulled her up.

Exhausted, they both returned to the booger mobile.  It wouldn't start.  That was no surprise.  So Uncle Poop tied the vehicle to Aunt Rat's 'trusty' mole and she pulled it and Uncle Poop all the way back home - to the outhouse in the dump.  With their plans dashed, they both resigned themselves to spending the remainder of the day picking flies off each other.

Tomorrow would be another day, and another adventure.

© Copyright 2017 Cher Fallon. All rights reserved.

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