In this piece of sneaky flash fiction we learn that our mothers – who told us to make sure we always had clean underwear on – were right. Enjoy!
“Roll up, roll up!” said the barker at the fair. And people did.
The governor sat in the bucket seat under the July sun, ready to be dumped into the tub of water for charity.
“Just a dollar,” said the barker. The line snaked around the rest of the stalls past the tea tent, the fortuneteller’s purple-curtained tent, all the way to the entrance.
Mrs Crenshaw dumped him into the water on her first shot. He struggled out, puffing and laughing insincerely. Mr Baker dumped him in again. There was no laughter as he climbed back into the chair.
“It’s for charity,” the barker reassured him. The Barker would hand people the balls used to hit the target, which sent the governor into the tub. And Miss Blakely, who was taking the money, would discreetly hand him a small stack of bills to tuck away.
The governor lived in a nice house, with servants, and twice as many cars as he needed. If he got dumped in the water a few times, it was just payback.
When he wasn’t able to climb out any more, they left the body to float in the tub.
“I think Mrs Crenshaw caught by surprise with that first shot,” said the barker. The people left in line, who hadn’t had a go, nodded angrily. They’d been looking forward to dumping the governor.
“Well – and remember it’s for charity – if Mrs Crenshaw would get in that bucket seat, then we could keep the fun going. What do you say, folks?” The people roared their approval, and Mrs Crenshaw was forced into the bucket seat in her underwear.
After an hour or so, it was Mr Baker’s turn.
There wasn’t much of a line left, so the barker called young Timmy Alan from the line, to make sure people kept paying their dollar – it was for charity – and he disappeared around the back with Miss Blakely.
They commandeered the governor’s silver Mercedes. The barker packed his and Miss Blakely’s belongings into the trunk.
The dunk tank was doing fine as they drove out of town.
