Jack and Jill up the Hill

It was after their tumble down the hill–resulting in Jack's terrible knock on the head–the brother and sister team decided there must be a better way to fetch water. Maybe it was the rap on the head or Jill's somersault tumbling–whichever the case the idea they concocted that day made them certain they could revolutionize water delivery to Fairytale City

Sacrificing their life savings and borrowing every dime they could beg from the bank using their straw roof cottage as collateral –they purchased a truck and became J and J Water Company. It was a rusty old White with a dented tank and a diesel engine that blew black smoke as it chugged along–climbing Waterbucket Hill.

The tank was full and sloshing back and forth as they pulled away from the well on top of the hill. Jack smiled as he grabbed a gear–double clutching the stubborn transmission growling as it pulled the heavy cargo.

"I'll tell ya sis," he grinned, "we should've done this a long time ago! To hell with a bucket! We will never tote a bucket up or down that damn hill again!"

"We can carry more water in one trip than we could in a month!" Jill giggled excitedly.

The people in the town below would be so pleased to have access to an ample supply of fresh-cold water which had the brother and sister team seeing dollar signs knowing they would pay out the nose for it.

"Uh-oh," Jack gasped, pumping the brakes furiously, "this ain't good."

"What is it? What's wrong?" Jill asked. The concern in her voice was obvious.

"I think I know why we got such a good deal on this truck," Jack said, trying to downshift in an attempt to slow it down. "Piece of shit doesn't have any brakes!" 

The two of them held on as best they could while the heavy truck continued to accelerate down Waterbucket Hill–Jack gripped the wheel with white knuckles fighting the sloshing of the water at each curve. The tires roared with the traction of the rubber being pushed beyond its limits. 

"Do something Jack!" She screamed at him while she gripped the dashboard.

"I'm open to ideas!" He snapped. "The water is too heavy and the front tires can't grip at this speed!" 

The residents below heard the crash and saw the wall of water whooshing down the side of Waterbucket hill. They looked to see the tumbling wreckage of the White tanker truck wadding itself into a twisted contorted mess as it flipped and rolled for what seemed like forever before finally coming to a rest beside Peter's Pepper Garden. 

No one wanted to go look inside the upside down truck–its wheels still spinning and the remaining water dripping from the ruptured tank. There were no survivors. One week later the town voted to have city water brought to all residents.