This is a piece for the
Literotica April Fools Story Contest 2025
collection of stories, it was originally a standalone but those that have had a beta read think it would actually make a good starter for further tales. If someone wants to take the idea and spin it into further Heaven & Hell tales feel free. I'm likely to come back with a few more variants on the theme once I've cleared the backlog of works currently underway.
I need to thank 29wordsforsnow for editing this piece for me, plus nudging me along the path as it headed for completion. As always, I can't resist a very final tinker, if there's a cock up, it'll be on me.
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"I saw that!"
I stopped dead. A quick glance around me highlighted I was the only one about to walk out of the Wetherspoons, so whoever it was, they were speaking to me. I tried to keep walking, but something made me stop, and see who it was. Turning, there was an overweight bloke wearing a Manchester United football club jersey. Fortyish, balding, with a dreadful haircut that looked like a five year old had done it. Sat at a table, he was nonchalantly stuffing a burger in his mouth as he looked at me.
"I'm sorry, were you talking to me?"
There was a small gap in time as he took a bite from his burger not caring a jot he'd stopped me as I was leaving the pub.
"
Chomp...
Yeah, I...
chomp... chew...
saw that on Friday."
I felt a little queasy as a big blob of ketchup and cheese dripped from the burger that he was cramming into his mouth, before sliding down his football jersey like greasy, volcanic lava.
I should have kept walking, I couldn't care less he had seen me doing something last Friday, it was no big deal as far as I was concerned. But he obviously thought it was important. Cocking my head, I asked him the obvious question.
"What
'that',
is it you saw last Friday then?"
He kept munching on the burger, the words barely audible as he continued to chomp away.
"No...
chomp, chomp...
not last Fri...
chomp...
day, Friday coming...
chomp, chomp.
"
Oh! here we go. A wannabe comedian.
"Stop talking shit, I mean, like tomorrow, Friday? Who the fuck do you think you are!"
"I'm God...
chomp, chomp
, pleased to meet you April Stone."
"Ha! I knew it! Of course! It's bloody Thursday the 1st April. A fucking corny April Fool's joke. Well boo-hoo, just seen right through it! So come on, who put you up to this, eh? What smartass was it? Let's think, was it Cheryl?... no I reckon it was Andrea. She's stupid enough to waste a few quid on something like this."
Wiping his mouth on his sleeve as the last of the burger thankfully disappeared, he sat looking puzzled for a moment, scratching his chin. It was followed by a large, disgusting drawn-out belch, before he spoke.
"Now, let's get this straight. Is Cheryl the one that dates the surgeon that rebuilds what's left of your face? Meets him with her husband visiting you in hospital, before she kicks her husband into touch? Or is she the one that has a black baby when her husband is lily white?"
Suddenly, he clicked his fingers.
"Oh yeah, she dates the surgeon then marries him once her divorce comes through! Shame, I had them down for staying the course until she met your surgeon."
I shook my head at this silly old clown. He was doing his best trying to yank my chain and it was already wearing thin. Time to go on the offensive.
"Look, I'm getting pissed off with this, who are you, and who put you up to this?"
He sighed, shaking his head like I was a petulant five year old.
"You lot never get it, do you? I told you, I'm God, and I just saw that."
I don't like playing silly games and I started to get angry with this buffoon.
"Stop talking in riddles, you moron! What's this 'that' that you've seen?"
He looked at me with a determined look.
"You, fucking your life up. I just saw that on Friday, so I thought I'd come here today, Thursday."
What was his problem? Talk about a wind-up merchant!
"Look, you may think you're very, very funny, and whoever thought this up, they need to take a bow now. It's a classy April Fool's day joke but get a life! Whoever it was that set this up, you can report back - busted! This April ain't no fool!"
I put my hands palm down on the table, and leant in, trying to look menacing.
"OK, God, spill it. Which one of my friends put you up to playing this prank? I mean, only three people know I'm here."
He coughed, then looked at me with a rather serious face.
"That's not strictly true, April. Andrea, Simone and Cheryl know, after all, you did let on. Then there's me, my brother and let's not forget Jake Smallcock... nope... sorry, scratch that, that's what he's got, not his name. I meant Jake Smallman. You know, the man you sat in the booth with over there. Holding hands, sneaky little kiss as you made plans for him to come around on his day off tomorrow, as in Friday, at eleven o'clock to fuck you."
What the fuck, he was one sick motherfucker, clearly earwigging on my private affairs! Time to put him straight.