Wishing You Well
This idiot drowned in a damn wishing well. Unreal.
His one job was to make a wish on me, but the pressure got to him. Wasted, he leaned over too far, lost his balance, and broke his neck on my lip. Then his lifeless, stupid body limply slid down my borehole and sank to the bottom—contaminating my enchanted waters with dumb.
Hopefully he’ll dissolve soon in my magical elixir, so some slightly less imbecilic loser can discover me and we can start anew. Since I’m magical of my own volition, I don’t believe in any deity, but still: Jesus Christ.