A Cautionary Tale

Eric had eaten much too much food.
Now he regrets that choice!
He is groaning on the toilet.
“Oh, I wish I were dead!” says Eric.
(Eric has very good grammar; he always uses the subjunctive case when he ought!)
An imp lives in the toilet bowl.
The imp loves to grant wishes.
“Oh, ho, a wish!” chortles the imp. “Hey, presto!”
Now Eric is dead.
Dead people don’t wish for anything.
“Well, how do you like that,” grumbles the imp. “Not even a thank you. I call that gratitude.”
Eric is still quiet.
Dead people don’t feel guilt, either!

No one knows where Eric has gone.
“Where can Eric be?” ask his friends.
Everyone looks for Eric, but no one finds him.
(He locked the bathroom door as you are supposed to.)
No one goes into the bathroom — there is someone in there!
After three days Eric begins to stink.
“What is that dreadful smell?” wonder Eric’s friends.
They call the landlord.
“The sewer is backed up into the bathroom,” they tell him, “and the door is stuck!”
The landlord breaks down the door.
Eric was the source of the dreadful smell!
“Ho ho ho,” chortles the toilet imp.