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This story began about a year ago when acclaimed novelist Victor Bradstreet suffering a terrible bout of writers block drove to his cabin in the woods in rural Virginia to gain some inspiration.

Close to his destination he stopped at Alberts General Store to buy some supplies.

As he wandered the aisles Victor noticed an old beat up Olivetti typewriter sitting on a clearance table.

Thinking that the typewriter might be a lucky charm and inspire him to write again he bought the machine and went on his way.

On the first night while Victor slept the Olivetti typed a novel that went on to become a bestseller .

Afraid that the typewriter would steal his thunder Victor set fire to the machine in his backyard and despite being badly damaged the Olivetti refused to die and after recuperating it attacked Victor .

Unleashing it’s ink ribbons the typewriter strangled Victor than consumed his body without leaving a single drop of blood behind.

Over the following weeks the typewriter also disposed of Victors publisher Penelope Clutterbuck his daughter Abigail plus the investigating officer Detective Mike Peterson.

The Olivetti also killed a brave K9 dog named Monty owned by Trooper Clyde Ybanez.

The Olivetti was eventually captured by the FBI and imprisoned.

It was executed by firing squad than smelted down and recycled into steel cans.

But once again the Olivetti wasn’t ready to die and tiny pieces of steel detached from the cans and travelled along the highway all the way to Springwood Virginia and into the basement of the house owned by none other than Trooper Ybanez.

There the tiny pieces of steel melded together and three days later the Olivetti was back with a vengeance.

Startled to see the Olivetti in his basement Ybanez decides to use the murderous machine for his own selfish needs.

When his K9 dog Monty was killed by the typewriter Ybanez was tormented by two of his fellow officers,Detectives Kevin Godley and Lionel Crème.

Luring the two Detectives to a motel on the outskirts of town Trooper Ybanez waits down in the carpark and watches the two Detectives enter room 6 where they were ambushed and consumed by the hungry machine.

Feeling ashamed by what he has done Clyde and feeling the need to get rid of the evidence he wraps the unsuspecting typewriter in duct tape.

He loads the machine into his car and drives to a campground that he used to visit back in his younger days.

Feeling distraught and frightened Clyde failed to notice that the duct tape was beginning to fray.

He carried the Typewriter to the edge of a long drop shitter and threw it deep into the brown.

Rubbing his hands together thinking that his ordeal is finally over turns away to return home when he is taken by surprise as the typewriter unleashes the ribbons of blood.

They wrap around his throat and pull him down into the poo of turds.

‘Oh shit’ were Clyde’s last words before hit the surface and sank.

The Final Chapter

When he hit the murky water Trooper Ybanez had the good sense to close his mouth and hold his breath.

As the typewriter and Clyde sink deeper and deeper into the muck luckily for the trooper the Olivetti releases its stranglehold and wraps the ink ribbons around a tree root six feet below the surface.

Clyde has been holding his breath for over a minute and he knows that he hasn’t much time before he succumbs so using his police training plus hundreds of sessions spent in the gym he manages to grapple up the ribbons and stand on the root leaving only his face above the surface.

He just hopes that no one comes to use the shitter because he is right in the firing line .

But at the same it might be his only chance to escape from this hell hole.

Travelling salesman Dave Jenkins is in a happy mood because he is heading after ten days on the road , he nods his head to a classic Deep Purple song as he thinks about seeing his wife and kids again.

His stomach is full after pigging out on a huge bowl of chilli at a truck stop a half hour ago.

But as Purple gives way to Aerosmith Daves stomach starts to grumble and complain.

At first he isn’t that concerned because he has eaten chilli a thousand times before and it has always been a case of winding the window down and letting a few go and all in well in the world .

But now Dave knows that he doesn’t find a restroom soon than things could turn messy.

Dave clenches his butt cheeks tight as he desperately search looks out for a rest stop sign .

As his gut screams for mercy Dave realises that maybe he shouldn’t have eaten the chilli so fast but having not had anything to eat all day he scoffed down the bowl in record time and now he is paying a heavy price.

Than a huge sign catches his eye ‘South End Campground ‘ two miles ahead.

Breathing a huge sigh of relief Dave parks close to a shitter and walks inside loosening his belt and dropping his pants before taking a seat above a long drop.

Feeling exposed Dave just wants to do his business and be on his way but nothing is happening.

‘That would be right ,I am ready to launch a torpedo but the hatch is closed’

Below Dave’s lily white butt Trooper Ybanez was close to giving up hope of being rescued plus half expecting the Olivetti to grab him by the ankles and drag him down.

‘HELP’ he screams up to the nasty looking crack blocking the sun.

Peering down between his legs Dave is surprised to see a face staring up at him ‘What are you doing down there son ? Did you fall in ?’ Never mind just hang on and I will go fetch some rope’

Pulling up his pants Dave grabs a length of rope and hurries back to the trapped shit covered soul.

In all of the excitement his bowels have turned to concrete and it will probably take a jackhammer to gouge out his next stool.

But he can’t worry about that now,he has a man to save and there and there is no time to lose.

Trooper Ybanez is down to his last reserve ‘s of strength when the rope is lowered down into the abyss .

He quickly ties the rope under his arms and gives it a yank’OK pull me up before my entire world turns to shit’

Dave yells’Hang on buddy,i will tie the other end to my bumper and get you out of there’

And a minute later a brown water logged figure is pulled from the hole.

Dave appears with a blanket and a bottle of water but the stench stops him in his tracks. ‘Holy shit buddy ,you smell worse than a dead skunk left out in the sun too long’

Clyde wants to scream at his rescuer ‘Well I have been stuck down in a shitter for over seven hours’ but he just smiles glad to be alive.

He peels off his shit soaked clothes and shivers in shock as the good Samaritan hoses him down from head to toe ‘There you go buddy almost as good as new ,now wrap yourself in the blanket and I can be on my way’

The two men embrace “Thanks for saving my life Dave ,my name is Clyde Ybanez by the way,if you are ever down near Springwood call in and I will buy you a beer’ Dave waves farewell and drives away,

Clyde waits a minute to compose himself before climbing into his car and heads home hoping that he never sets foot in that campground again.

Before he joins the highway he glances back at the shitter and screams at the Olivetti ” Die motherfucker die’

Fifteen feet beneath the fetid water a muffled voice replies “see you soon Trooper Ybanez see you soon’

Three months later

Trooper Ybanez has returned to the Springwood police department in the K9 unit.

His life is somewhat stable after his ordeal with the crazy typewriter and his dip in the shitter.

He still feels guilty about his role in having his two colleagues Detectives Godley and Crème killed by the Olivetti.

Now his main issue is personel hygiene , he showers at least three times a day and applies deordorant hourly.

But that is a small price to pay to still be alive and even though he might smell better and has returned to work he cant quite shake the feeling that he hasn’t seen the last from the blood thirsty Olivetti deep down in the shitter.

Back at the campground a big truck emblazoned with ‘We Suck Shit So You Don’t Have To’ down both sides backs up and parks ten meters from the shitter.

The driver a huge bear of a man with more tattoo’s than a Mexican drug lord climbs down from his rig.

Percy Hollister has been sucking shit for 35 years and he is happy to do so .it might be a stinker of a job but someone has to do it plus the pay is pretty damn good.

He drags a huge suction hose to the edge of the long drop and throws it into the cesspool.

As the hose sucks up the liquid turds Percy lights a cigarette to help pass the time ( even though there is enough methane gas in the air to launch a space shuttle ).

As he draws the smoke into his lungs he listens to country music blaring from the rigs sound system.

Between drags he sings along with ‘Someone Stole My Dog ( But Left My Girlfriend Behind ) oblivious to the danger nearby.

If he knew what is lurking down among the turds he would throw his cigarette away and get the fuck out of there.

A loud crunching sound coming from the shitter grabs his attention ‘What in the fuck now’ he mutters as he strides towards the shitter.

He peers down and is surprised to see a square object blocking the hose sabotaging his chance to finish the job and go home and have a few beers and maybe have a snuggle with his wife Cindy Lou.

Despite his best efforts to remove the object it reuses to budge so with no other option Percy hauls in the hose to remove the object by hand and when the hose reaches the surface Percy recognizes the culprit as a vintage Olivetti typewriter.

Having worked in the effluent business for many years Percy is no longer surprised at what some people throw into the sewer system.

His home is full of discarded items that after a wash in hot soapy water gave them a new lease on life.

And Percy is positive that with a good scrub the Olivetti will become a great addition to his collection or fetch top dollar at auction.

Holding his breath places the shit covered typewriter into a burlap sack and he leaves the campground completely unaware that he is travelling with the stowaway from hell.

Percy arrives home two hours later and is happy to see his wife waiting for him ,he climbs down from his rig carrying the foul smelling sack ‘Christ Percy what have you brought home this time? It smells like death warmed up’

‘Sorry Cindy Lou it is an old typewriter that I retrieved from a long drop over near Springwood’

‘Well don’t you dare take that chunk of crap into the house ,put it in the mudroom straight away before my nose falls off my face in fright’

Percy shakes his head in annoyance but he does what his wife asks and takes the machine into the mudroom for a good scrub down and twenty minutes later the discarded Olivetti shines like a diamond in the rough.

Pleased with a job well done Percy heads inside for a well deserved beer or two but unfortunately there was no snuggle for Percy that night.

Cindy Lou loves Percy dearly but she is tired of all the stinking crap that he brings home from work everyday.

But she has to admit that she is intrigued by the typewriter that he brought home yesterday so once her husband goes to work she enters the mudroom and is immediately dazzled by the Olivetti’s brilliance.

The machine must have been manufactured over forty years ago ,now it looks like it just rolled off the production line so Cindy Lou vows to apoligise to Percy when he gets home because she is certain that the typewriter could fetch up to $1,000 on Ebay.

She is deciding whether to buy a new pair of shoes with the money or spend big on a complete makeover when

kerclunk kerclunk kerclunk kerclunk

‘Huh?’ Cindy Lou blinks in astonishment as the keys on the typewriter go up and down. ‘What in the fuck?’ Still no quite believing what she is seeing Cindy Lou peers in for a closer look and sure enough the keys are moving so she leans in even closer.

Typewriters were invented to create words but this Olivetti prefers action and it strikes with deadly force.

Cindy Lou is taken completely by surprise and offers little resistance as the ribbons of blood choke off her airways and pull her into the machine.

It has been a long time since the Olivetti ate a decent blood meal and it savours every drop as Cindy Lou’s body is pulverised into a pulp that will sustain the typewriter for weeks.

Ten hours later Percy arrives home hungry and also hoping that Cindy Lou has thawed out a bit because he really could do with some loving tonight.

He is wearing a watch that someone lost down a shitter ,sure it might be a bit on the nose but it keeps perfect time .

Feeling lucky Percy calls out to his wife ‘Hey Cindy Lou how about we go to that fancy Italian restaurant that you like than come home and fool around a bit?’

Percy is a little puzzled when his wife doesn’t answer because it is late and she is usually home ,maybe she is having a lie down?’

But upon entering the bedroom his wife is still nowhere to be found.

Now Percy is really starting to get worried because Cindy Lou is usually home to greet him when he arrives from work.

Feeling frantic Percy again looks at the clock and decides that if Cindy Lou isn’t home in two hours he will call the police.

Than he remembers that he hasn’t checked the mudroom yet ‘But surely his wife would have heard him calling out?’

Hurrying into the mudroom Percy calls out his wives name but the room is empty except for a shiny Olivetti looking like the cat that swallowed the cream.

Percy is amazed at how brand new and pristine the typewriter appears to be ,he only gave it a spit and a polish but this Olivetti looks like a spanking new machine.

Percy notices a small blemish and on closer inspection he gasps at the sight of a single drop of blood ‘Did Cindy Lou cut herself and go to the hospital?’

Concerned for his wives welfare Percy loses focus for a second and the Olivetti strikes.

Hungry for another blood meal it shoots out the ink ribbons that wrap around his wrist and pull his hand into the mechanism.

Soon Percy’s whole arm is chewed and swallowed like scraps disappearing down a garbage disposal.

He fights and pleads for his life but he soon loses strength and is devoured limb by limb until every morsel of meat is eaten so now Percy is nothing but a memory.

The disappearance of Percy and Cindy Lou Hollister continues to baffle the authorities to this day,Did the couple run away to start a new life somewhere? Were they abducted by aliens?

How can two people just vanish without a trace?

The case soon goes cold and six months later the family home is sold to a couple from New York looking for a sea change while the furniture and appliances were sold to a local dealer for a song.

The Olivetti unwanted by the dealer was passed on to Albert Finnegan the owner of Albert’s General Store.

The very store that Victor Bradstreet the acclaimed novelist first encountered the typewriter twelve months back.

The Olivetti once again sits on a clearance table gathering dust waiting for a new owner to buy it and give it a home.

The typewriter could have easily killed Albert or any of the customers that came into his establishment but the Olivetti has bigger fish to fry.

It plans on eating one last Mac Happy meal before going into hibernation for a century or two.

And that meal will be Trooper Clyde Ybanez.

Ten miles away Clyde is doing a spot of fishing on the bank of the Shenandoah River but he isn’t having much luck.

The trout aren’t biting and Clyde is having a hard time concentrating on his favorite past hobby all because he just cant shake the feeling the crazy typewriter that he threw in the shitter has somehow escaped and is looking at wiping the late clean.

Knowing that the only fish he will ear today will be covered in batter and deep fried Trooper Ybanez packs up his rods and drives his Subaru into town.

Twenty minutes he pulls into the carpark in front of Albert’s General Store but as soon as he opens the car door the same weird feeling he had back at the river settles in the pit of his stomach.

Drawing his service revolver Trooper Ybanez enters the store where he is greeted by the owner ‘Whoa what is going on Clyde? I don’t think my prices are that bad.’

‘Sorry Albert but I thought you had a situation here my mistake,but I have to tell you that your frozen turkeys are a bit on the expensive side.’

Holstering his weapon Trooper Ybanez shares a laugh with Albert but the strange feeling remains.

He orders his lunch than decides to grab a few essentials while waiting for the fish to cook.

Deciding whether to buy a loaf of sourdough or rolls Trooper glances up and his world falls in.

Sitting thirty feet away staring back at him is his nemesis the evil Olivetti typewriter.

Surely there is more than one Olivetti in the world Clyde tells himself but deep down in his bowels he knows that this is the same typewriter from the shitter.

kerclunk kerclunk kerclunk kerclunk

Looking back he screams ‘Albert get the fuck out of here right now and lock the door behind you NOW ALBERT NOW’

‘Hello Trooper Ybanez so we meet again’

I have been waiting for you Trooper Ybanez because I have to return to hell soon and I plan on taking you with me so I can have a snack on the way’

‘Or better yet I will keep you alive and torture the shit out of you for eternity’

‘Buckle up buddy cause you are going for a ride’

Trooper Ybanez knows that there is only once course of action open to him, he needs to killer the mother fucking typewriter and this time for good.

No more Mr Nice Guy.

‘Fuck you and the horse you rode in on you key tapping dinosaur ,I don’t like the heat so tell the devil to go fuck himself’

Knowing that his words with enrage the typewriter Trooper Ybanez braces for what is to come and he isn’t disappointed.

The ink ribbons might be the Olivetti’s weapon of choice but they are also its biggest weakness.

When the Olivetti unleashes the ribbons of blood Clyde grabs them and ties the murder weapons to a support beam than using a crowbar from aisle three he jams the tool into typewriters mechanism.

Now the machine is disarmed and ready for the taking but the fucking thing can still type ‘Well done Trooper Ybanez see you on the flip side’

Clyde watches in amazement as the typewriter liquefies and flows through the cracks between the floorboards as it travels towards earths core.

The evil Olivetti is now back in hell where it belongs.

‘Home sweet home asshole ,don’t come back anytime soon’


Thanks for taking the time to read one of my stories and could you please consider making a donation to go towards my dream of becoming a fulltime writer. Thanks again Steven.