The Cursed Teapot A Short Story by thejway

The Cursed Teapot
A Short Story
by thejway

Steve Williams looked at the cursed teapot in his hands and felt calm.

He walked over to the window and reflected on his creepy surroundings. He had always loved cosy Falmouth with its fat, faffdorking fields. It was a place that encouraged his tendency to feel calm.

Then he saw something in the distance, or rather someone. It was the figure of Tommy Malkovich. Tommy was a gracious patient with pointy eyelashes and brunette toes.

Steve gulped. He glanced at his own reflection. He was an articulate, virtuous, port drinker with pointy eyelashes and ugly toes. His friends saw him as a beautiful, better bear. Once, he had even helped a robust owl cross the road.

But not even an articulate person who had once helped a robust owl cross the road, was prepared for what Tommy had in store today.

The snow flurried like thinking lizards, making Steve jumpy.

As Steve stepped outside and Tommy came closer, he could see the blue glint in his eye.

"Look Steve," growled Tommy, with a creepy glare that reminded Steve of gracious pigeons. "It's not that I don't love you, but I want some more Twitter followers. You owe me 3111 dollars."

Steve looked back, even more jumpy and still fingering the cursed teapot. "Tommy, I ate your puppy," he replied.

They looked at each other with worried feelings, like two tired, tasteless tortoises drinking at a very deranged wedding, which had reggae music playing in the background and two splendid uncles talking to the beat.

Steve studied Tommy's pointy eyelashes and brunette toes. Eventually, he took a deep breath. "I'm afraid I declared myself bankrupt," explained Steve. "You will never get your money."

"No!" objected Tommy. "You lie!"

"I do not!" retorted Steve. "Now get your pointy eyelashes out of here before I hit you with this cursed teapot."

Tommy looked stable, his wallet raw like a shivering, sad sausage.

Steve could actually hear Tommy's wallet shatter into 3111 pieces. Then the gracious patient hurried away into the distance.

Not even a glass of port would calm Steve's nerves tonight.

THE END