Anthology of Awful: Restroom In Peace, Jeremy

Toilets.

We all like to use them, to dispose of our effluence that would otherwise mount up around our ears, don't we?

Or do we?

For Jeremy Pinecone, one simple trip to the lavatory almost wound up being a trip...to HELL.

Jeremy Pinecone (age 23, but that is of little to no relevance to the following tale) had been enjoying a nice night out with friends. They had drank beers together, watched a stripper, punched out a couple of headlights and gone for a curry at their local French-Indian restaurant, The Taj Mange-All.

Ravished after a hard night's leering and shouting, the friends ordered a plentiful spread of food, and gorged upon it hungrily.

For Jeremy Pinecone, the twelfth plate of Korma du Poulet was to prove too much for his digestive system to handle, and so he left the table and headed to the restaurant's toilets.

The toilet was located at the back of the establishment, down a rather dark and dismal corridor that bore none of the tasteful decor of the restaurant itself. Nevertheless, Jeremy locked himself in the dank restroom, and prepared to evacuate his bowels.

The bowel motion was fast and furious, the explosive mixture of curries and lagers causing poor Jeremy Pinecone's colon to almost combust under the strain.

But that was the least of Jeremy's problems.

Having successfully performed his task, leaving his hindquarters splattered with feces, Jeremy reached for the toilet roll to clean himself up.

He paused, frozen in terror.

There was no toilet roll.

An empty, cardboard tube hung on the holder, silently mocking him.

Jeremy panicked. What would he do? He was pretty certain it was a rather sizable social faux-pas to return to dinner reeking of excrement.

Luckily for Jeremy Pinecone, a passing ghost appeared in the toilet, so Jeremy simply used the apparition to wipe his anus clean of all the crap.

A close call for Jeremy Pinecone, then, readers. But still, you have to agree, that was some spooky shit.

Sleep well, readers.

- The Book-Keeper.