Jeff woke with his mouth permanently open to the air. He could feel
the water floating in his open mouth. He stared at the tile mirrored
wall of the bathroom. He didn't see his reflection. He only saw a
white porcelain toilet where he was squatting. Was he invisible? Was
he a ghost? Oh, no, he was the toilet. He sat there for hours.
Suddenly, he heard noises in his room. It was the building
superintendent.
"Yo, Jeff? You around. You got the notice last week, we're here to
replace your toilet with one of those new low-flow water conservation
toilets."
There is a pause.
"Guess, he's not here, Pedro help me carry this into the bathroom."
"Si, Mr. Mike."
The door opens with a thud. Kicked open by Pedro's heel. They set down
a new white low-flow toilet.
Pedro toggles Jeff's handle, and Jeff is hit with a confusing wave of
emotions. It may be a toilet handle, but in Jeff's mind it's his
cock. Pedro's giant fingers fondle Jeff's chrome plated cock. His
other hand runs across the top of the porcelain tank.
"This seems like a fine toilet. I know you're replacing it to save
water, but what happens to this one?"
"You're right there's nothing wrong with this toilet, it don't waste a
lot of water either. One flush and it's empty. These new ones, well,
I've already had complaints from other tenants - it takes two to three
flushes to get rid of anything 'cept pee. So yeah, each flush uses
less water, but if you have to flush 3 times, I really don't see the
savings. As for the old toilets, well if we get it out without
breaking it, they end up being sold legally in Mexico or Canada or
illegally here in this country. You can't buy crappers like this any
more. Stupid government regulations." Mike shook his head.
"Ah," said Pedro pulling out his knife and starting to cut open the
box containing the replacement toilet.
"That can wait a minute -uh," Mike said adjusting his belt, and
farting loudly.
"Hey, Pedro, wait outside for a minute, I gotta take a dump before we
replace this toilet," said the building superintendent Mike
Poundstone.
Jeff squatted helplessly as Pedro's shadow vanished and was replaced
with Mike's larger one. The 300 lb 5'10" building super waited until
Pedro closed the door, then he undid his jeans. Poundstone was a
running joke in the building. He was the stereotypical overweight
workman with his butt crack exposed 70 percent of the time. His
nickname was what frightened Jeff, building residents had complained
after Mike had used their toilets that they usually stopped up, and
people claimed the smell lingered for days. Poundstone's nickname was
Shitsbricks. The giant moon of ass flesh eclipsed Jeff's world. Big
Mike sat down. The enormous weight caused Jeff's entire body to ache.
There were a few really stinky farts, and then he started to piss.
Jeff's horror was nearly complete as he realized in spite of being
porcelain, he could still taste!