Toilet Gator – Chapter 45


Ding dong! Ding dong!

Buford pounded the door of his father’s marvelous, sweeping McMansion, located on the outskirts of town. It was a fascinating structure, painted a pure white alabaster with all sorts of fancy columns and porticos. Off in the front yard, a solid marble statue of the Mayor himself stood watch with a cigar in one hand and a martini in the other, a cowboy hat atop its head.

“Daddy!” Buford shouted as he pounded on the front door. “Daddy! Open up!”

A few moments passed before the front light was flipped on. The door opened and the Mayor appeared with nothing but his cowboy hat and boxer shorts on. Sure enough, he held a cigar in one hand and a martini glass in the other.

“Buford?” the Mayor asked. “Is that you? Boy, have you lost your mind? It is one o’clock in the morning!”

“Daddy,” Buford said. “I got something real important to tell you.”

“Boy,” the Mayor said. “If you think for one second I’m going to let you back in this house.”

“That’s not why I’m here,” Buford said. “Listen Daddy…”

“No, you listen,” the Mayor said. “I have put my foot down on this, Buford. You will never get back in this house again. It’s too good for you here and you got to get out in the world and learn how to be a man!”

“Daddy!” Buford said. “Listen to me! Have you been doing any shitting?”

“What?” the Mayor asked.

“The toilet!” Buford said. “You been on it?”

“What the hell kinda question is that, boy?” the Mayor asked. “I know you’re my son and all but there are some things that are just too personal too talk about, even between us.”

“Daddy,” Buford said. “You will die if you go to the bathroom. Do you understand?”

“What is this all about?” the Mayor asked as he sipped his martini. “Oh, wait a god dang minute. Is this about all the bullshit on TV?”

Buford scratched the back of his head. “Yeah. Let’s go with that.”

“Son,” the Mayor said. “That’s all smoke and mirrors. Yeah sure, there’s some whacko with a screw loose out there, running around gutting people like prized hogs at the county fair while they’re on the pot but the odds of becoming one of his victims is still pretty slim.”

“But uh, it’s still possible,” Buford said.

“Boy,” the Mayor said. “I am seventy years old. I’ve had every surgery ever. The doctors have poked me and probed me and cut me every which way and here I am, still walking around in my all together.”

A duo of Big Ray’s finest appeared in the door way. They both were clad in silky lingerie. They had hot bodies but their faces? They weren’t in danger of winning any beauty contests.

“Mayor,” the first stripper said. “Come back to bed.”

“Yeah,” the second stripper said. “You promised to let me polish your executive branch.”

The Mayor walloped both girls lightly on their behinds. “I’ll be right up, girls. Don’t start without me now!”

The strippers ran back upstairs. The Mayor faced his boy. “Look at me, son. I’m rich and successful and if you put your mind to it, you can end up just like me – flush with cash and able to buy as many discount prostitutes as you please.”

“But Daddy…”

“No, ‘but Daddy’ me, boy!” the Mayor said. “I appreciate this is the first night you’ve ever had out there all alone in the world and it’ll be hard on you but don’t worry. It will get better in time.”

“I’m not even talking about that,” Buford said. “You need to stay off the toilet.”

“Son,” the Mayor said. “I’m no head shrinker but if I were I’d say you being here is just a sad, desperate, pathetic ploy to wiggle your way back into my heart, make me feel all sorry for you and let you have your room back. Am I right?”

“No,” Buford said. “Are you even listening to me? You need to stay off the toilet!”

“Boy,” the Mayor said. “I appreciate you worrying but fuck it.”

“Fuck it?” Buford said.

“Yeah, fuck it,” the Mayor said. “I’ve had a good run. All sorts of things have tried to kill me in my lifetime and I’m still ticking. At my age, ff a madman wants to slice and dice me while I’m pinching a loaf then, well, that’s just God’s way of telling me that my time’s up and it is time for me to come on home.”

“You’re infuriating,” Buford said.

“Don’t try to flatter me with all your fancy Sitwell Community college words, boy,” the Mayor said as he shut the door. “Goodnight.”

As Buford walked away, he could hear his father laughing and cavorting with his discount prostitutes. The young man ignored it and pulled out his phone. He punched in a few numbers, then let it ring.


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