BEYOND THE PLUGHOLE - THE BUBBLE FESTIVAL by John Townsend Story 7

It was the month of July, the 14th to be precise, the day of The Bubble Festival. For many weeks before the sewers were awash with excitement, every downpipe and every drain was readying itself for the greatest day in the Plugolite seasonal events.

Throughout the year, certain brave Plugolites had ventured to the very rims of the sink plugholes capturing any residue that the humans may have left of washing up liquid. No matter how small the collection it would be saved in their storehouses ready for The Bubble Festival. Each participant would use his collection of washing up liquid to create a spectacular midnight bubble run. The idea was that the liquid would be transformed into a huge bubble into which the Plugolite collector would climb. Then at a U-bend he would be pushed over the edge hurtling down the measured course, through every waste pipe and every drain pipe down into the sewers. At strategic points adjudicators would be watching the proceedings as the bubble riders rolled past, unfair use of extra washing-up liquid after the push off from the U-bend would bring an instant disqualification. However, a few have tried to fool the adjudicators and had their bubble burst at the next check point, the rules are strict.
Betting on the race was at a feverish point as the clear favourite Festus Tickle was readying himself with his washing up liquid. With a hefty blow he created an enormous bubble into which he slipped. The race attendants looked at him for confermation that he was ready, then the countdown. Five, Four, Three, Two, One. With a hefty push he was propelled over the edge of the U-bend tumbling down the waste pipe. The plugolites shouted and cheered as he sped past rolling and tumbling as his bubble hit the sides of the pipes.There were nervous eyes looking as he reached the most dangerous point, a place where many a bubble explodes, the drain pipe. With a rush of back draft he was flung over the edge into the drain pipe intact, a great cheer went up, almost audible at the humans sink plug hole.
festus Tickle was thrilled as he headed into the sewers, by his own reckonings he was faster than last year, his face was beaming as he past the final thre adjudicators heading to the final point at which the speed of each bubble runner was checked, and a winner declared.
As Festus Tickle passed the final flag he cheered out aloud, at the same time he burst his own bubble and emerged jubilant of his thrilling race.
It was a full twenty minutes as other contestants ran their bubbles to the maximum, in all thirty bubbles had started, eleven had burst, one hit an adjudicator and was knocked into the wrong sewer, leaving eighteen that had finished the run.
So it was the announcement was about to be made. Bubble Festival Custodian Hillary Fling stood by the rostrum, poised with the megaphone to her lips and declared, 'It is with great, great pleasure I announce that the winner of the downhill Bubble Festival Bubble Race is, for the second year running, Festus Tickle.' A huge cry of joy ran through all the pipes the sewers and out of the plugholes as the festivities began, though the Plugolite bookies were less than happy.