I Fought the Toilet and the Toilet Won
It was well formed and enormous, and I couldn't stop looking at it and then back at my body, my belly, trying to trace the path that it took, discover where it lay in the depths. How could it have fit in there without killing me? I think sometimes the water magnifies the size, or atleast thats what I told myself. I wished I had a camera, a digital camera so I wouldn't have to explain to the lady at the photo store why there were various images of shit on my roll. I wanted to win, 10 out of 10 on ratemypoo, or atleast be showered with various accolades from my friends who would no doubt be very proud (now those are good friends).
But there was no way to record the moment, the beast, the thunder! So I set about to flush it away, somewhere else, probably into Rockcreek or the Potomac, where it would become a riverchilds toy, or the source of your dogs matted and stinky fur.
But this presented a problem. The john upon which I sit to take my behemoth shits does not do well with hardwood logs. It does well enough with scrapple, cherry bombs and the occassional well formed but mostly fiber balsa wood log. But not this. I shuddered, but I had few viable options. The shit crushing stick is hard to use in an apartment building where throwing a stick covered in shit out the 5fth floor window onto the parking lot would surely be noticed, and probably not appreciated.
I grabbed the Plungster. I spread my stance and steadied myself. I bent my knees slightly and leaned over the sea and the monster. My index finger lay gently upon the flusher, plunger in hand, knees readied for power thrusts, I activated the device.
The monster didn't heed the call. Anyone who knows plunging, knows that if the crap is sticking out of the water when you try to plunge the hole, all you will end up doing is mashing the poop around with the rubber end, junking up the water with piecemeal feces and still not be able to get enough of a seal to force the hole free. The result, the worst possible scenario: chunks of well digested tuna, beans, rice and bread intermingled with mucus and dead red blood cells would flow over the brim and onto the floor.
But then it inched in, little by little, until I could cover the hole with the plunging device and not mush the poo. I sealed the hole, and I pumped, and pumped and I could feel the air bubbles forcing their way down the hole...I was victorius!
But the water never swirled into the hole, it just sat there, my celebrations were unjustified, I would have to plunge again. I flushed and prepared myself, but not enough. I had made a fatal mistake and underestimated the enemy. Just because I could not see the giant sub, did not mean it wasn't there, sitting with its ICBM's ready to strike. The water began to rise quickly, the hole was completely blocked, not a drop was flowing into the Potomac, it was all flowing into my apartment.
It bubbled over the brim as I shrieked and cursed. It was like brown vengeance, flowing fast and hard. I grabbed my bath mat and threw it into the tub. I plunged but to no avail, I watched the water flow under my bathroom door and into my closet. I cursed the beast.
It was only then that I realized just how much water we use to flush. Boy I wish I had a water-saver toilet, but no, I had a 1950's We-have-all-the-resources-we-will-ever-need toilet and its 500 gallons were coursing onto my floor.
It finally stopped, then gurggled and as I pushed the black rubber plunge cap down it spewed forth some more. But by then I had lost, I was vanquished, I had no other option but to plunge fast and hard and pretend that the cold drops I felt on my face were not from the "potty" but from some other source, some source that must exist or I would vomit and it too would flow onto the floor.
I spent the day mopping, and cleaning. But it will never be the same. My Sunday was ruined and my apartment will never be the same. Its been tainted, tainted by the spilling stool, tainted. Neither ass nor cock, taint!