Jeff lay there on the dirty floor of the locker room for what seemed to be an eternity, mentally crying. Wanting a shower. Not able to get one, and unable to so much as budge. It was really only a couple of hours. Long enough for him to slowly dry. But not nearly an actual "eternity." It just felt like that to Jeff. He's going to have to get used to that feeling, for he will not be human any time soon. If ever.
Suddenly, an old man comes in with a mop and bucket. He's whisteling as he soaks his dirty mop head in the hot soapy mop water. Without squeezing it out, splashes the water in a wide arc across the hard tiled floor. The floor was so dirty, the white soapy suds turned brown as the janitor used the mop head to spread the water around. He went for another splash of water, when he noticed Jeff the Used Handtowel.
"Oh please notice me and wash me and take me home," Jeff internally pleaded.
"Darn kids, always leaving their dirty towels behind," said the old man as he bent over to pick Jeff up.
"Ew," said the janitor, as he got a whiff of the pungent smell coming from the old towel. The janitor absent-mindedly flung Jeff onto a nearby wooden bench.
"Oh well. I'll have something to somewhat soak up the excess water with now," he said aloud as he continued mopping.
"Oh no, please don't!" Jeff thought. "Anything but that!"
He would have gotten up and run away if he could. But towels don't get up, and they most certainly do not run away. Jeff was stuck, and completely incapable of moving even so much as a millimeter.
The janitor quickly finished up, grabbed a squeegee, and directed all the mop water towards Jeff's corner near the exit. The janitor pooled all the water from around the base of the toilets and urinals, and all around the rest of the locker room. He then pushed it down a drain in the floor. But there was still some dirty, brown-gray toilet/urinal/locker room water left on the floors, just for Jeff to soak up.
The janitor grabs Jeff with a rubber-gloved hand, and unceremoniously drops him into the middle of the grayish-black puddle of water with some urine mixed in for good measure. By this point, the hot mop water had significantly cooled. He flew "face" downard, towards the muck. He would have screamed if he could. But alas, towels don't scream any more than they get up or run. He just flew silently towards the disgusting water. He landed with a wet "splat!"
Suddenly, the janitor used his dirty old booted foot with boots nearly 20 years old hugging the foot of a man who bought them at the still youngish age of 40, and still wearing them at the oldish age of 60. Needless to say, those old boots weren't any cleaner than the cold brackish water Jeff was now soaking up.
With several swipes of his dirty boot across the dirty floor, the old janitor made sure poor Jeff would soak and pick up all of that mucky, now-cold water. He'd be shivering if he could. But towels can't even do that.
Once finished with this duty, the janitor bent over to grab Jeff with the same rubber-gloved hand he used the first time he picked him up. Unknown to Jeff, it was the same glove the janitor used to stick his hand into a toilet to grab a towel that some joker threw in there, and which covered a slimy pile of shit. The janitor had thrown that towel into his garbage can on wheels. Luckily for that towel, it was just an ordinary towel. No consciousness whatsoever. The same cannot be said for Jeff. Not only was he fully conscious, he also could never "fall asleep," go insane, and he has his full senses about him.
This black garbage bag was completely full and quite heavy. All sorts of smells were emanating from it. From old eggs thrown out earlier in the morning, to old spaghetti with meat and sauce. Old coffee grounds. Paper towels, used tissues, coffee-soaked and spagetti-stained computer paper that was severely weakened and tearing apart due to all the liquids.
The janitor then used the same glove to throw Jeff into the same garbage can as the other towel. Now Jeff's only companion. The janitor the pulled the glove off his hand, and tossed that away as well. Yet another piece of garbage that is briefly used and very rapidly forgotten.
As he saw where he was going, with his new home nearing, his "stomach" dropped. Or would have. But. Well. You get the picture. Towels don't have stomaches. That garbage can full of all sorts of interesting scents got nearer. And nearer. And nearer still. He saw another formerly-white towel in there. Nearly an identical twin of Jeff's. Jeff got a whiff of shit and saw the heavily shit-stained towel.
With horror, he suddenly found himself dropping out of the safety of the janitor's gloved hand. He landed directly on top of the mound of garbage, with the shit-stained towel directly next to and slightly above him. Perilously close to touching him. And in came the glove right after him.
Looking at the other towel was a reminder that's just what he was. He was now one of those things, and can't do anything about it. Suddenly, the can started vibrating and he heard the wheels clattering along on the floor, somewhere distantly below him.
As the garbage can vibrated while the janitor was surely taking him to his next step towards doom, everything inside was also vibrating along with it. He "felt" some shifting about from some things somewhere below him in this pile. The shit-covered towel was also quivering.
"Oh no! Don't come near me! Don't touch me!" Thought Jeff. "I'm already feeling filthy enough as it is!"
He heard a door open, and felt the cool night air. Then the sides of the bag rose up all around him and started covering over top of him and his now much-reduced, lower-than-dirt world.
"Oh no! I'm just garbage! Just a filthy piece of garbage, and nobody knows where I am, or what I am!" With as much energy as his energyless cotton body could muster, he tried yelling out to the janitor. Just the simple word "HELP!" But nothing. Not a wimper. Not even a moan. Then the top of the bag closed tightly like a dome above him and all of his new filthy companions. The top was tied shut. He heard a grunt as the entire thing was lifted, everything shifting about inside. The shit-stained towel got closer and closer. Jeff couldn't see, as it was pitch black inside. But he sure as hell could smell it! Suddenly, he could TASTE it, as it rolled and flopped on top of Jeff's "face!" He could taste it, along with all the other filth he was covered in.
He heard one final grunt as the old janitor heaved the bag. It flew though the air, and for a moment, Jeff was weightless. The heard a loud "bang!" as the bag and all of its contents, Jeff the towel included, landed inside a dumpster. Upon impact, all the contents got thourghly mixed up. Mercifully, the shit stained towel ended up elsewhere, but not before it wiped a bit of its fecal contents on Jeff's now gray and black body. But he landed into something else. It was all wet and slimy and smelled just as aweful as shit! A new color was now added to Jeff's body: the red of the half-rotten spaghetti and it's sauce! He would be forced to lay in this stuff all night long, completely aware of his predicament.
He then heard the lid clatter shut. The garbage can's clackety wheels pull away. The door to the building open then shut. Then silence, darkness, and a heavy stench all around.
Jeff would spend all night, pondering what he did to himself. He would think about the world of humans. How free they were, and he never realized it. A world he is no longer a part of.