Toilet Gator – Chapter 66

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Buford picked himself up, limped to the men’s room, and locked himself in an extra roomy handicapped stall. There he stood with his head against the wall, dabbing the various parts of himself that were bleeding with a piece of wadded up toilet paper.

He turned and caught site of the toilet. “Awww, Skippy,” Buford said. “Been a long time, man.”

Buford paced back and forth. “I thought we were gonna keep in touch but then you never came back, boy. I’ve been waiting for so long that I guess I figured, I don’t know…maybe you found a new best friend.”

The young man dabbed some blood off of his cheek. “If you’re out there, Skip, I sure could use a friend right now.”

Buford stared at the toilet for a few minutes and then after realizing the futility of the exercise, he stepped out of the stall and ran the sink faucet.

“Stop being stupid,” Buford said to the reflection of himself in the mirror. “It’s been ten years. The idea that gator would come back now is….”

The sound of a rumbling toilet stopped Buford in his tracks. He stepped back, inching his way toward the door. “Skippy?”

The toilet exploded, sending porcelain shards. The stall walls collapsed and water chugged out of a busted pipe as a wondrous sight appeared before Buford’s eyes.

“Skippy!”

Skippy had grown to an enormous size and weight, practically a dinosaur.

Skippy emitted a fierce roar, then looked at Buford. The beast began to pant like a happy puppy as Buford wrapped his arms around his long lost reptile pile.

“Skippy!” Buford said as he planted kisses all over Skippy’s head. “Where have you been?”

“Raarga!” Skippy said.

“Mexico?” Buford asked.

“Raarga, raarga,” Skippy said.

“Panama?” Buford said.

“Raarga,” Skippy said.

“You’re a man of the world?”

Skippy nodded. “Raarga.”

“Oh Skippy,” Buford said. “I thought I’d lost you forever but now we can be best friends again!”

“Raarga,” Skippy said.

“You can just keep living in the sewer and come visit me,” Buford said.

“Raarga,” Skippy said.

“And I’ll make us a fancy way to talk to each other,” Buford said. “I’ve been getting really good with computers you know.”

“Raarga,” Skippy said.

A fist pounded on the bathroom door. “Buford!” Mr. Hogan shouted. “What are you doing in there?”

“Nothing, sir,” Buford said.

“You better not be masterbating in there,” Mr. Hogan said.

“I’m not sir,” Buford said. “I swear.”

“I got my eye on you, Buford,” Mr. Hogan said through the door. “There’s something about you that tells me you’re no good.”

“OK then sir,” Buford said before mumbling under his breath. “Crusty old bastard.”

Buford looked around the room, taking in the mess his companion had made.

“Damn, boy,” Buford said. “You better get outta here before someone sees you.”

Mr. Hogan knocked on the door again. “Buford!”

Buford looked to an open window. It was small, but he was sure he could squeeze through it.

“And I better get outta here before this gets blamed on me,” Buford said.

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