Harry was puzzled when the door didn’t open.
“You okay man?” His roommate Carl asked, sipping a beer.
“The bathroom door’s stuck,” Harry growled and slammed his body into the door.
“Hey!” A tiny voice squeaked on the other side. “Keep it down out there!”
Harry banged on the door. “Who’s in there?”
“Leave us alone!” Another voice squeaked. “Let us do battle in peace!”
“Do battle?” Harry mouthed at Carl. His roommate shrugged.
They ran out the back door and around the house to the bathroom window. Harry pressed his face to the screen. Scattered across the blue tiled floor were about six hundred warriors, each about two inches high. Half wore gold armor, the other half silver. All held lances and stared at Harry.
“Hey!” Harry shouted. “What’re you doing in our bathroom?”
One of the little people, who was dressed in gold and appeared to be a general, stood on the rim of the toilet seat. “This is not your bathroom!” he shouted. “It is our battle ground! Five thousand years ago we fought on this very spot and we intend to do so again!”
Carl shoved Harry out of the way. “Hey! Can I join your battle?”
“No you cannot!” A general dressed in silver shouted from the sink top.
Carl sipped his beer. “What Harry and I battled and that decided who won?”
The gold and silver generals conversed in a strange language. Finally, the gold general turned back and shouted, “Very well! You two will decide the outcome of the battle! But only if the drinker of ale is on our side!”
“Wait what’s going on?” Harry asked.
Carl punched him in the face. Harry crashed into the trash cans.
“And the Gold team wins!” Carl shouted raising his beer bottle. The Gold army shouted with joy.