Toilet

It was an evening like any other. There was a faint breeze from the
south, the smell of early spring flowers in bloom was heavy in the air
as the daylight waned, and the sky became a canvas of brilliant reds
and oranges as the darkness of night began to creep in from its place
of hiding.

I sat on my couch, drinking and watching television, briefly glancing
at the floor which was festooned with empty beer cans and other forms
of filth and possible biological contagions. The smoke of a cigarette
I had just enjoyed hung about the ceiling, dancing mysteriously as if
to some unheard music.

A rumbling surged from within my colon, which reminded me of the
delicious lunch I'd had that day, although of questionable safety. I
had decided I'd have some form of cuisine akin to that available in
the Orient for my lunch, in fact I'd decided that before I'd even
gotten dressed for work that day. Phong Lao's China Buffet - a name
what I would never forget.

It caught me completely by surprise, a warm moistness, fresh on my
taint. Not knowing of any more suitable course of action, I bounded
directly for the restroom. Although more than likely a foolish choice
on my part - I had to at least try to save the garments I'd already
lightly soiled. The trial had only just begun. Before I could plant
myself on the toilet seat, a searing deluge of horribly pungent
deficate showered my bathroom in all directions. The walls dripping
with the mud of my colon, my sphincter had no intention of relenting.
My entire excretory system surged with pressure, the sensation of
gargantuan logs of buffet induced bombardment filled the whole of my
lower intestine. My toilet was pummeled ferociously, log after log
delved eagerly into its waiting bowl. I soon noticed that the sound of
splashes and plops had been replaced by a sickening moist kind of
thud. I glanced down to see that my waste had piled up out of the
water, now resting less than one inch below my ample $%#!%&!.

That's when the unthinkable began to happen, the kind of thing you
read about in magazines, or maybe see in a Time Life video. My toilet,
under the extreme pressure, the torment, the agonizing abuse it had
suffered...was beginning to crack. Before I was able to brace myself,
the toilet collapsed underneath me. The entire bathroom floor awash in
$!@%water, turds flowing this way and that. I began to weep
uncontrollably, now laying on the floor and unable to control the
defications still streaming from my anus. I recall watching one of the
larger logs float past my face, and wondering where it might be
headed. Exhausted from the trial I'd just faced, I fell asleep where I
lay.

Kirk Havelock
Mobile 021 260 4100

Home(NZ) +64 9 630 5717

havelock@anz.com

 

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