Plink!

Winston opened one eye bitterly and eyed the despised sink that drip-drip-dripped every night. No matter how he tried to fix it, turn it, pound it, fire a shot gun at it, set a bomb off inside it, nothing ever altered the constant dripping.

Plink!

Again the sound of a drop of water striking the metal bottom of his sink stirred Winston from his rest.

Plink!

“I’m SICK of this!” he cried. “It’s you and me sink! Right now!”

The faucet turned towards him. All of the other appliances in the house watched nervously as the two enemies faced off.

Winston reached behind his bed and pulled out his machine gun. “EAT RAISINS, DEMON SINK!” Winston didn’t have time to buy bullets, so he made raisins from the vineyard he lived in and used them in his gun. He aimed and pulled the trigger, denting the faucet with high-speed raisins. “MWAHAHAHAHA!”

The sink straightened itself out and turned back to Winston. The sprayer snaked its way out from its slot next to the faucet, right up to Winston - and spewed the contents of Winston’s pipes in his face.

In shock, Winston lashed out and latched on to the sprayer, twisting it and ripping it from the sink with a deafening crack. He stepped forward slowly, evil glint in his eyes, towards the faucet, which shrank back in fear. It sprayed water in his face in a last attempt to force him back, but it didn’t work. It merely cleaned him off. With a snap of his wrist, Winston whipped the sprayer’s hose around the faucet and pulled as hard as he possibly could. The faucet was torn from the sink, and water sprayed up from the pipes.

Satisfied, Winston dropped the faucet and sprayer on the floor and crawled up to the roof of his vineyard house. He curled up in a ball and feel into the first peaceful sleep he had had in years, while below, his house slowly filled up with water.