The Sentinel of the Toilet Bowl

When I thought this one up, I felt like it was pretty good.  But then I thought about it some more and I realized that if I did this, then three or four of my last five blog posts would have something to do with toilets or fluid expelling functions (and guess what my next idea is!!!!).  I was immediately deeply ashamed of myself, for, it seemed to me as if by pursuing these lame and cheap ideas I was further sacrificing my integrity and originality.  However, since that epiphanious moment, I have taken time and recollected my thoughts and come to the conclusion that they aren't THAT cheap, and since for some weird reason it's where my inspiration is coming from, I might as well go with it.  So here it is.

This is a true story, taken really out of reality, verbatim.


It was a dark and stormy night; the rain fell in torrents — except at occasional intervals, when it was checked by a violent gust of wind which swept up the streets (for it is in Carnation that our scene lies), rattling along the housetops, and fiercely agitating the scanty flame of the lamps that struggled against the darkness.  To cut to the chase, it was about 12:00 AM, and I was finishing my last UW Honors essay.  To tell the truth, it was not what I would call a good essay, but that would easily be excusable, were one to take into account that I had typed it with my eyes closed and my mind dead.  All in all, I think I pulled it off pretty well for being in the state closest to being a zombie.  SUDDENLY!  A shot rang out in the night!  A thundershock, I mean!  At that moment my monitor's screen flashed and I tapped out a hasty CTRL-S to try and salvage my data.  Thankfully, the outage was but temporary as the light flashed right back on.  I was saved for the moment, but there was no telling what the future would hold, so I prudently decided to retreat to my bedroom.  Turning off the computer, I shambled downstairs and brushed my teeth.  In a lucky coincidence it was at the exact second that I reached the restroom that I realized that I was in need of a relieving of myself.  Thus, I finished with brushing my teeth, shut the bathroom door and shuffled over to the receptacle.  I had just started trying to aim at the dead bug in the toilet when....
SUDDENLY!  A flash illuminated the horizon!  A lightning bolt did that, I mean!  And after that blinding light! well, there was only darkness.

Readers, what was I to do?  I was standing in front of the toilet, and the dams had already burst.  There was no going back anymore.  But all of my instincts were telling me that I had to get out of that bathroom.  The hair on the back of my neck grew a couple of inches from all of the stretching it was trying to do.  My stomach was full of what some people call butterflies.  I don't think they were really butterflies.  The point is though, I was freaked out.  I wanted to leave with all of my heart, but I was having trouble making it inside the bowl just standing there!  So I endured.  Seconds stretched into minutes, and minutes stretched into hours, and all the while my panicked imagination was showing me legions of demons amassing outside the thankfully locked bathroom door.  Everything that I knew, everything that I believed in was telling me to bolt.  But I could not, if I was to keep my human dignity.  So I stood there in the dark, sentinel of the toilet bowl, ever wary, making sure to set a striking pose as the flashes of lightning illuminated me.