Anyone who has read the best work of Maddox knows that the men’s washroom is a very structured place.
There are rules governing a men’s washroom, far more powerful than the oldest laws laid down by any civilization. These laws are not written in stone, they are written in TESTOSTERONE.
A far more powerful force than mere rock. When these laws are broken, there are dire consequences. The whole natural order is thrown into chaos, and some batshit crazy stuff happens.
As a recap, here’s a theoretical washroom.
Where each “U” is a urinal. Say the door is here
Therefore, the “U” to the furthest right will be Peed in first
And the furthest left will be the next one used, and then the middle on. At that point, a fourth guy will use a stall. Setups such as this
Are strictly forbidden, upon pain of chemical castration.
So here I am in the washroom, urinating in the furthest stall from the door. Doing my usual business. It is a public washroom, and thus is disgusting. Most of the mirrors are covered with unidentified gunk, the sinks are full of phlegm, and the toilet seats are inexplicably covered in single ply toilet paper. The urinal next to mine has a soggy bagel stewing in the juices of at least 5 or 6 men.
Then the door creaks. I hear footsteps. They are coming towards the stalls.
Just to avoid anything awkward, I shift a little to the left, so as to essentially cut off any possible chance of eye-penis contact from occuring from either party.
The footsteps keep walking, and ARE NOW DIRECTLY BEHIND ME.
My mind is reeling. My pituitary gland is hyperventilating. My anus preps its anti-trespasser weapon systems. My body is preparing for the worst here.
I turn my head to see what’s going on. What the hell is this joker doing?
Thus I was in the perfect position to watch a water balloon casually sail over my right shoulder, and descend into the bowl of the urinal.
It was like a horror film. Everything was agonizingly slow… I wanted to run, to scream, something, anything!
But I could do naught but watch in fascinated horror, as the pregnant balloon struck the ceramic bowl, and burst. My poor exposed manly organs were showered with freezing cold water, my own urine, and other substances I don’t even wish to think about.
My pants took a lot of this sudden sneak attack as well… and had to be run through the laundry twice to get them cleaned.
And as any sadistic joker does, after his prank was fulfilled, instead of running to safety, he stayed and laughed.
Now, being the quick thinker I am, the only thought on my mind was “REVENGEANCE!!” I had no desire greater than to hurt this idiot, whether it be physically, mentally, or emotionally.
My mind searched for ammunition for my killer desires… and it found a urine-soaked bagel in the urinal next to me.
Hoisting my pants up in the process, I quickly scooped the ammonia pastry up, and hurled it at the grinning face of my attacker.
Anyone who’s thrown soaked grain products knows that they have very little structural integrity. This bagel was no different, splitting into pieces in midair. Two large chunks slammed into the face of my attacker, water and urine providing an incredible amount of “splash” damage.
One chunk laned on his left cheek, a hefty amount of gook entering his rapidly non-smiling mouth. The other chunk hit him above his left eye-brow, which rather comically dripped urine into his furiously blinking eye.
Both chunks fell of his face, landing on the washroom floor with a satisfying “splush” noise.
Smiling in resignation, he said: