After some further work, you complete the process of installing the toilet into your bathroom. You check your watch. With some time to spare too.
While completing the toilet installation, you realize that you're going to figure out an explanation for the workman of why you unpacked the new toilet and put it into the living room. It wasn't as if you could tell the workman the truth. And even if you did, the workman would think you were crazy.
But maybe that wouldn't be a bad thing. Might just make the workman ask less questions and finish the job faster. Who cared if you had a reputation of having a toilet friend with the local maintenance and plumber social circles?
You'd have to discuss the plan with Jonas first.
However, when you enter the lounge room, there's no toilet to be found, only the TV showing some godawful infomercial.
"Jonas?" you say, then a little louder, "Jonas? Where are you?"
Where had he gotten to? Not as if he could get far with his method of hopping about, right? You check nearby rooms. No out of place toilet. Wait. You pause. Recalling something. You run back to the hallway outside the bathroom.
You recalled correctly. The cardboard box and packaging material the new toilet had come in were gone. There were only some small broken off pieces of foam remaining from when you'd unpacked it. Normally, you'd assume the workman had come in and disposed of the materials, maybe doing some extra cleanup during his break (though unlikely, the workman being very religious about his breaks), but the materials being gone paired with your toilet friend being missing did not bode well.
The front door opened and soon the workman appeared around the corner. When he saw you, still standing in the hallway, he gives you a wave. "Hey there, I'm just about to get back to it, need anything?"
"Oh, ur," you say, trying to think of the right phrase, "That new toilet, I was wondering, ur, did you, like, put it back in your truck?"
"Naw. Got a call from a coworker. He was a fixture short on the job he was working. So since I had a new toilet that you didn't need, let him know he could swing by and pick it up. That's fine, right? Obviously will make sure I take the toilet fixture and install cost off your bill. Feel free to check when you sign to keep me honest." The workman chuckled and winked. "I better get back to it unless you need something?"
You debate whether to ask for further details. From the workman's perspective, you'd had one more toilet than needed, so you didn't blame him for letting his coworker take it.
But that meant that Keith was taken to who knows where?
Could you ask the workman where it was headed? Would that be weird? Wait, you recalled something about the device in the basement. "T-Thanks, sir. I better get going. If you need anything, l-let me know."
The workman shrugs and goes back into the bathroom to get back to work and you quickly head back to the device, hoping you can get the target geographic location working.
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Meanwhile
After the drive, Jonas felt the movement of his box being unloaded, then then the rumble rattle of a cart transporting him across pavement, down a smooth floor, some dings of an elevator, another smooth floor, before eventually stopping.
There's some muffled discussion between some people and then the sound of a blade cutting through cardboard and then Jonas is unpacked, blinded by buzzing fluorescent lights before being lifted free of the packing materials and set on the floor.
He first realizes that he's been set aside about a half dozen other toilets, which he finds a bit odd. Was he being placed into inventory somewhere. Maybe he wasn't going to risk being-
Then he noticed the rest of the setting. There was a long row of mirrors sinks on one wall, a long row of stalls on the other. Jonas could even see a long row of urinals past the sinks. He saw the big bright graphic of a blue dragon embossed on the wall on the far side of the room and logos with the same dragon on the door of each stall door.
He recognized that dragon. And soon after, with a chilling realization, he realized where he'd ended up: in the men's bathroom in the stadium of the local football team: the Dragons. And when he saw the various work people milling about, he realized what was happening. The first game of the new season was in just a few days. They were doing some final preseason renovations.
Oh no.
Jonas would yell if he could, but as he was, sitting on the floor of the stadium's men's bathroom, looking no different than the other toilets next to him, he couldn't even shiver or move. Even as one of the workman knelt down in front of him and picked him up, carrying him into one of the stalls.
He couldn't believe this was happening. This couldn't be happening. He really couldn't be installed here. He didn't even want to consider what the average stadium toilet went through during a season.
Wait. Once he was installed, and water flowed back into his pipes and into his bowl, he'd be able to communicate again. He'd be able to talk. And though it wouldn't be ideal to reveal his form to these strangers, would be preferable to the alternative.
So he attempted to relax as best he could as he felt himself being lowered onto a pipe in the middle of the stall and the workman started screwing him into the floor. The workman, listening to earbuds, hummed as he did his job, obviously used to this job. In a relatively short time, he completed installing the toilet, turning on the water. Water filled the tank and after a press of the handle, filled the bowl too.
Jonas attempted to give a sputtering sigh of relief at the sensation of the cool water inside his bowl and attempted to say: Sir, there's been a deep misunderstanding. I'm not actually a toilet. Well, I mean, I am currently a toilet, but, ur, anyway, I shouldn't be here, could you please transport me to the following address as soon as possible, wait...
At this point, Jonas realized that his words weren't being verbalized. His toilet seat wasn't moving. His voice wasn't coming out of his bowl. He wasn't even able to shiver or move or clank or anything. He remained completely still and inanimate, looking totally normal within the stall.
The workman gave a satisfied nod and left the stall, and left Jonas alone to consider what had happened. He kept attempting to talk or move or give some sign that he wasn't really a toilet, and found he couldn't do anything. On no. Maybe he was too far away from the device. Without the device's proximity and influence, he wasn't able to move at all, even with the water in his bowl.
All he could hope now is that his friend would find him before game day.
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Hours later, checking into the device settings, managing to unlock the geographical location and print it off on an archaic dot matrix printer, tracking the coordinates with your phone, then a friendly chat with an accommodating security guard about how you were a big Dragon's fan who just wanted a brief walk around the stadium, you now were walking down a dark corridor of the football stadium.
You entered the men's bathroom and then whistled at seeing the long row of stalls.
The coordinates you received managed to narrow down Jonas' location to this particular restroom.
However not the particular stall.
"Jonas," you venture, "Jonas, are you in here?"
You walk down along the row of stalls, pushing open the door or each one, hoping for some hint, one toilet looking out of place. However, after looking into over a dozen stalls, none of them stuck out, and none of them responded to your inquiry on whether or not they were Jonas. All of them looked like normal freshly installed toilets.
You gave a sigh and raised your voice. "Urm. I'm sorry, Jonas. Not sure which one you are, though I'm pretty sure you're in here. Was, kinda hoping to put an out of order sign on your stall at the least, but as it is, not sure. OK. There's some good news and some bad news. The good news, is that the device does have a way to be portable. Sorta. There's a field extender that can go over the radio towers or cell phone towers or something that should do the trick of, changing stuff at a distance. The bad news is, urm, that it is gonna take a few weeks for me to spin that functionality up."
You pause, taking a deep breath. You could almost sense Jonas mentally yelling at you from whichever stall he was in.
"I understand this isn't ideal and that, urm, that the Dragon's have home games their first few weeks, but gonna do the best I can to advance the timeline, but wanna be careful. I mean, you don't wanna be stuck as a toilet forever, right?"
There's no response, just an echoy drip from one of the sinks.
"Really sorry about this, Jonas. If it helps, I'm gonna see about being a volunteer or part time janitor or something to check in on you. And if I can narrow down which one you are, will get you out of here. Again, sorry, dude. I'll be back soon."
You give a final look through the stalls, hoping for some sign about which one was Jonas, before giving a sigh and leaving.
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No wait, you can't just leave me here! Come back! You need to do something. Come on, figure out how to put this bathroom out of order! Dude? Dude!
The toilet that was Jonas remained still silent during this mental yelling. He was the eighth stall from the left. Not that there was anything to distinguish from any of the others, looking just the same as the fourth from the right or the second from the left.
The squeak of his friends footsteps receded and he was once again left alone in the dim bathroom, only accompanied by the faint buzz of fluorescent lights and drip of plumbing.
The horror of his current position settled upon him as he tried to come to terms with it. Maybe he would figure something out. Maybe he'd figure out to fix him before game day and anything happened. Maybe this wasn't as bad as it seemed. Maybe he could just use mental force of will, give off the aura that he wasn't a good toilet, that he might be liable to clogs or out of order or something. He really didn't know what else to right.
In the boredom of the stall, time sorta mushed together, Jonas fading in and out into some approximation of sleep. Until he heard the murmur of activity starting to rumble through the stadium, loudspeaker announcements about the upcoming game, information about the Dragon's new roster, details about available snacks and merchandise, and other assorted stuff.
Jonas eventually heard the sound of various people entering the bathroom. Stalls nearby opening and being locked. Assorted concerning sounds followed by flushing. Soon there was a steady pattern of these sounds and flushes, getting closer and closer as more people stopped by.
Until, inevitably, Jonas' stall opened and a man entered.
Jonas tried to focus all his mental energies.
Mentally, he said: I'm sorry, sir, this stall is out of order. Would you please just, ur, go to any of the other available stalls. I'm sure they'd be much more suited to what you need to do than I. I know I look completely functional, but let me assure you, I am not. Just, ur...
The man undoes his belt, lowers his jeans and boxers, and lowers his butt down onto Jonas' seat.
Jonas realizes his gambit to give an "out of order aura" has failed as the man relaxes and does his pre-game business.
No one can hear the mental yells of Jonas.
It was going to be a long game day.