Pink Plugs and Coffee Pools

Falling from 10,000 feet in the air, an airplane crashes into a farmer’s home.

The airplane carries two passengers. Smoke and debris aside, only one is still alive. The farmer picks up the survivor and drags him outside. He returns for the dead co-pilot and pulls him out too. Grabbing his shovel, the farmer starts digging a grave. He whistles a tune as the lone survivor watches the clouds drift lazily by.

Unbeknownst to the farmer, a soft blue fog drifts out of the plane. The survivor notices but cannot muster the strength to warn the farmer. The fog works fast and soon envelopes the entire crash site. Breathing it in, the farmer starts chuckles. The chuckles grow into a laugh, Soon, the survivor can’t help it either and starts laughing himself. Both men stare at each other as they laugh hysterically. Laughter is contagious, and the dead body starts laughing with them.

The man wakes up and looks around the room. It’s empty. Nothing but a smelly bed, a large red carpet stretching all across, and a large statue across the room. The statue is bronze and depicts a naked woman saluting at an unknown. A curtain hangs and is covered with dust. The man sneezes and gets off the bed.

“Where am I?” He tells himself.

“The world is not your lover,” a woman’s voice whispers.

Suddenly the carpets are pulled away and the man finds himself falling, deeper and deeper. He lands hard on the ground.

“Plug yourself in.”

The man doesn’t understand.

“Feel your back pocket.”

The man reaches around and pulls out a plug followed by a cable. No, the cable is attached to him somehow. He keeps pulling more and more of the black cable. It’s useless, it goes on forever. Giving up the man holds the plug and looks around. The room is an impossibly bright pink. The room lacks any decoration save a single wooden door with a sultry pink finish. The man looks up at the ceiling and gasps.

“The hole, it’s gone!”

“Plug yourself in.” The voice is noticeably sterner.

The man looks around. There is no outlet.

“This makes no sense.”

“The fucking floor. Plug yourself in.”

The man looks down. On the floor is a black dot the size of a tennis ball. He carefully kneels down and pushes the plug in. The plug sinks in smoothly.

“To live in this world, you have to be a player.”

Smoke and green sparks fly left and right. The floor becomes a large mirror and the walls become a pink light show. Flamingos majestically descend left and right and start dancing around the man. The man stands not knowing what to do. More flamingos come down, crowding the cramped room. The lights spin faster. The floor creaks under the weight of the flamingos, and the man’s vision is clouded by pink feathers and bright lights.

“Help me!”

The flamingos imitate him. They have mocking voices that remind the man of young girls.




“To kill in this world, you have to be a prayer.”

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to. I didn’t know.”

Red hot tears stream down the man’s face. They burn and rip into his cheeks. Adjacent flamingos squeal as they feel the intense heat drip on their bodies. Legs start kicking and pink flamingo blood erupts into the crowd.




The man closes his eyes and breathes in what last breath he can take as the flamingos finally smother him.

In a hot summer day, a woman is swimming in a pool. She’s practicing her best breaststroke. She’s not as graceful as a trained swimmer. The pool is of a circular shape and contains a hot murky brown liquid that can’t be just water. Her sister arrives by the pool. The sister is beautiful with soft brown hair cascading down her shoulders. Her lips need no make-up to stay a precious red, her cheeks are almost as rosy, and her slender frame accentuates her finer physical features.

Unfortunately for the woman in the pool, she has not been as lucky in appearance and is rather ordinary in looks. Which explains her clear passion for swimming. It’s one of the few things she’s better at than her finer, smarter, and more successful sister.

“Stop swimming in my coffee!” The sister says.

The woman ignores her and continues perfecting her breaststroke.

The sister, now agitated, warns her one last time.

“I’m warning you one last time. Get out now.”

The woman finally stops and takes off her goggles to get a better look.

“Fuck off,” she says.

The sister puffs up red and storms off in a heap in the most beautiful way possible. If you were there, the sight of her walking away would have been breathtaking. The woman continues her breaststroke in peace.

A while later, night has fallen. The woman, though tired, is still in the pool. She must finish 1000 laps a day. So far, she’s completed merely 999. Catching her breath, the woman begins her final lap.

Her sister returns, this time carrying a gigantic straw. Dipping the straw into the pool, the sister clenches her abdomen and begins taking large gulps of the pool.

“It’s my fucking coffee,” she thinks to herself.

The woman notices the sister mid-lap and tries to swim away from the great pull of her sister’s gulps. It’s too much for her tired form, however, and the woman finds herself sucked up the narrow tube and into her sister’s stomach. The sister continues to until the pool is drained.

Exhausted, the sister lets the straw drop from her mouth. All that drinking has caused to enlarge in size dramatically. She is now the human equivalent of a water balloon.

“My fucking coffee…” she mumbles to herself.

Her stomach starts gurgling loudly. Something is tormenting her from the inside and the sister flinches in pain. She can’t believe it! The woman is swimming inside her stomach! Even so, the sister steels herself. She won’t let her back out. She’s going to stay there and slowly digest.

A soft moan is heard from the floor of the empty pool. The sister turns her head and notices a man covered in pink feathers, with a long electric plug sticking out of his buttocks like a long tail. The man is missing his clothes.

The sight of the naked man makes the sister sickly. Combined with the truculent swimming inside her, the sister cannot handle the pressure and vomits everything back out. While most lands back into the pool, the rest is jettisoned into the surrounding area and onto neighbouring houses.

The police soon arrive with their sirens blaring responding to the neighbours’ complaints. Someone has been illegally drinking pool coffee.

“I hate sick fucks like you,” an officer says to her as he pushes her into the backseat.

As the police carry the bloated and no-longer-as-attractive sister away, the other woman gets up smiles as she watches her sister leave. The criminal offence for pool coffee consumption if pleaded guilty is roughly 5–6 years of incarceration. The woman can now swim in peace. After cleaning up the mess of course and ordering new coffee to fill up her pool of course. The thought of endless free time spent swimming delights the woman. So much so, she hardly even notices a naked man covered in pink feathers and an electric plug for a tail sneaking away into the bushes. He doesn’t get far though and instead falls loudly on his face. The fall is loud enough to make the woman notice.

In a dark smoky kitchen, two capybaras play cards with each other. They are the only ones in the room at the moment. One wears an ugly blue Hawaiian shirt with pink coconuts printed all across. The other is wearing an old college sweatshirt. The former smokes his cigarettes while the other drinks his beer. The two of them listen casually to alternative Mexican folk-rock splurging from a dusty radio.

The woman from earlier returns and turns on the kitchen lights.

“What the fuck?” the sweatshirt capybara shouts.

“Sorry, senior Bara.” The woman grabs an ice pack from the freezer and leaves.

“First, you get your sister arrested, then you bring in some random monkey-man. What a day.”

The woman stays quiet.

“Oh, don’t be so hard on her,” the Hawaiian shirt capybara says, “we helped her once when she was lost and lonely, she’s just trying to pass on the favour.”

The sweatshirt capybara calms down and looks back his card hand. The Hawaiian shirt capybara grabs the sweatshirt capybara and kisses him.

“Thank you,” the Hawaiian shirt capybara says.

The woman smiles and leaves.

“It’s not easy being gay capybaras, hon,” the sweatshirt capybara says, “if we attract too much attention, it’s over for us. I don’t want to back to that old life again.”

“I promise we won’t.”

The two capybaras drop their cards and instead have their hands locked in an adorable embrace.

Their embrace ends when the woman comes running back.

“He’s gone again.”