Twisted Tales for Toilet Time: Part IV

The Twisted Tales for Toilet Time Series project of short stories is aimed to be a collection of ultra-short short stories that can be read in the average duration of a toilet visit. Most of which fall into the category of the absurd and have little, to no real plot significance.

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Frank & The Doctor

Frank arrived at the hospital two minutes late for his appointment, he got lost on his way in after getting a visitors badge. Stopping a nurse he asked,

“Excuse me, but I’m late and don’t know where to-“

“You’re Frank Luger? Quick follow me, they’re waiting for you.”

Frank followed the nurse through a door where she stood with him. They were behind a curtain on the other side he could hear someone talking.

“…And I’ve just been given word that our guest of honour is here so without further ado, Dr Frank Luger!”

At that moment the nurse pushed Frank through the curtain, where he found himself behind a podium staring at a theatre full of doctors and med students. The announcer spoke up again.

“Thank you so much for coming, Dr Luger, we are so honoured to have you here for this Q&A on neurosurgery. First off let me just ask, what got you into the field?”

Frank thought about his situation very briefly and decided he would try his best to fudge along until a time he could excuse himself to the bathroom.

“Yes, thank you for that… warm welcome… doctor?. Well, uh yes, Neurosurgery… I first got into it when I was at medical school and they showed us the heart.”

“Surely you mean the brain, Dr Luger?”

“...Of course, brain. How silly of me. It’s been a long flight from Denmark… um, are there any other questions?”

“Denmark? Why were you in Denmark? I thought you were working at St Paul’s?”

“Uh… yes, St Paul’s… I work there, but... I live in Denmark… I commute each week.”

Suddenly from behind the curtain another man came out on to the stage.

“Impostor! I’m Dr Luger, how dare you degrade my name with your slander! Get out of here at once! Security! Take him away.”

Frank was so embarrassed when he was escorted out; he never thought to go back to his appointment with his own doctor, to get his test results.

My left side feels a bit funny. Sure it’s nothing though. He thought, getting back into his car and leaving before anyone else yelled at him.

Frank died two weeks later.

Malcolm & The Cheese Guide

The first customer of the day came through the door. His name was Malcolm, and he bought a lot of books all about cheese, the manufacturer of cheese, the sale of the dairy product, and even a guide, that revealed all the best cheese based restaurants around the globe.

While in the store, Malcolm slipped on some spilled tea, left by another customer, this nearly made him drop all the books he was going to buy.

“Ahhhh!” He sighed in relief after the credit card transaction was completed. “I finally have it.”

He went to the corner of the store where customers could sit and peruse through books with a cup of tea or coffee, and some small snacks.

Malcolm then sat on a comfy chair and ate his three-cheese sandwich while reading about all the different types of cheese in the world, and planned his trip to all the cheese capitals next year.

He was looking forward to one day, taking his son on a cheese tour, provided his son also liked cheese.

At that time, a masked man came running into the book shop,

“Die you Cheese eating surrender monkey!” He screamed, as he shot Malcom directly in the chest.

“Give me all your books!” The robber bellowed at the store owner, “put them in the bag, now!”

He robbed the store blind, when he left all that remained was the section on American politics through the 19th century and the Cheese Lover's Guide to the World Vol. I, sitting in a pool of blood.

Many years later....

Malcolm’s son returned to that fateful bookshop inquiring about the events of the day so many years ago. Hearing what he needed to hear, the son began his quest to find the man who shot his father.

He travelled the world’s bookshops tracking the books that were stolen, the encyclopaedias were sold to a small shop in Bruges, the cook books to a travelling Gypsy.

One day, he eventually tracked down the last book, Bacon Bits Can Be Your Friend & Other Poems for Toddlers, by an unknown author stored in a second hand bookshop in a small town, as he walked in he was greeted by the smell of dusty old books, and also the old man sitting behind the counter.

“Welcome sir, can I help you find a particular book?”

The son’s pupils dilated and filled with rage. He recognised the man’s voice. He had watched the security footage from that day so many times, it was seared onto his brain. Even with the sound distortion in the security tape, he knew that voice.

“I’ve come to collect a book,” he said as he flipped the ‘CLOSED’ sign and locked the door to the shop.

“It’s for my father, Malcolm…”

Charles & The Salesman

“You won’t do any better than this beauty!” Said the Salesman, as he slapped it.

Charles was in the market for something special today, he had been saving for a few months and finally had enough money scraped away to buy it for himself.

He had been eyeing it off for ages now, he was so excited, but wanted to try and get a good deal, and not be pushed into any unnecessary extras.

“Yeah, looks like a great one.” He said to the Salesman, trying not to show how much he wanted it.

“Is that the only colour it comes in?” Charles asked, immediately realising the stupidity of the question.

The Salesman looked at Charles quizzically for a moment, then chuckled and went back into sales mode.

“Well… no. Only in the yellow. It’s as you see it now, you can take it home with you today if you want. But I will tell you,” he said, looking around to the other customers in the building, “there’s a lot of interest in this little beauty, so if you want it. Jump on it now.”

Charles looked at his online bank account with his mobile, he could afford it for sure, but if he couldn’t get the price down at all, he would be having a lot of cheap meals until his next pay.

“Any chance of a discount?” He asked, stroking the juicy yellow object he had desired for so long. “It definitely works, right?”

“Well, I tell you what, you’re a nice guy and to be honest, I haven’t tested this one myself. But throughout my career I’ve never sold someone a lemon yet, and I’ll lower the price by 5% if that will make the sale for me, that way we both win.” The Salesman said, with a grin on his face.

Charles was convinced, he handed the cash over to the Salesman, and left with his new shiny yellow pride and joy.

Charles reached the checkout of the supermarket, and the cashier looked at him oddly.

“Just the lemon?” She asked, ringing up the price, $0.70.

“Oh, I’ve already paid the Salesman.” Charles said, turning to point at the man who had sold him the lemon of his dreams.

“I have no idea who that man you were talking to was, he doesn’t work here,” said the cashier, “that will be seventy cents, sir.”

Charles’ money problems only got worse from that day forward…

Daniel & The Rabbit Hutch

Daniel was young when he was first attacked by a rabbit, he had fallen into the enclosure at a petting zoo, and one of the rabbits in the straw covered area pounced on him. To this day it is a story the staff at the petting zoo tell to new employees and sometimes to children to get them to behave.

He didn’t even know how he had gotten in this mess, but somehow he was now stuck in a rabbit hutch in a backyard of someone's house.

However, it was becoming clear that no one knew he was there, or at least no one was coming to let him out. His fear of the small animals had only grown as he got older.

He told himself it was irrational, and that it was a one off freak thing that day at the petting zoo. But something deep inside him just never let go of the fear, and today had proved him right…

Sometimes, rabbits could be vicious.

“Is there anyone out there?” Daniel asked to the empty backyard.

No one answered him, only the stares of the three rabbits inside the hutch with him. He hadn’t thought he would go out this way, his friends had always made fun of him for his phobia of rabbits and some had even joked that one day a rabbit would eat him.

“No way,” he had said to them, “they can’t eat me. Can they?’

His friends would laugh and taunt him about it, he now wished that maybe he had listened to them, it seemed like nothing could save him, short of a miracle.

The rabbits started circling Daniel, spreading out through the hutch to cover all the ways he could try to run away, their eyes seem to darken over and become soulless. This is it, Daniel thought as they bared surprisingly sharp teeth at him, this is the end.

The rabbits pounced.

A blinding light was all Daniel could see for some time, he could feel himself rising up. I must be dead, he said to himself, at least I’m going up to heaven, and it must have been quick.

He hadn’t felt any pain and figured it must have been over fast, as he looked down he could see the ravenous rabbits scurrying about the inside of their hutch, no sign of his body.

They ate all of me!

The brightness began to subside, and he came face to face with Daisy, the young girl who owned the rabbits, she had lifted him up out of the hutch, and started to carry him away back into her house.

“Come on Mr Hamster, I have your new home ready. Wait till you see your new running wheel.” Daisy said to Daniel, who she took back into his enclosure, there he was eventually met with his fellow friends, and lived in relative peace for three more years as the young girl's pet Hamster.