Toilet Gator – Chapter 95


Ten minutes passed without a single sign of trouble.

“Come on,” Cole said. “I haven’t got all day, gator.”

“Maybe he found Jesus,” Rusty said.

“What?” Cole asked.

“I don’t know,” Rusty said. “Maybe he had a change of heart and doesn’t want to eat people anymore.”

“I doubt it,” Cole said. “I think he’s just wussing out.”

As soon as Cole said that, the ground shook.

“Umm,” Cole said. “And I still think my human penis is way bigger than his alligator penis.”

“That’s disgusting,” Rusty said. “What does an alligator penis even look like?”

The ground shook again.

“Yup,” Cole said. “That gator won’t dare show his stupid, fat, ugly face around here because he doesn’t have the guts to stand up to a real man.”

The line connecting to the toilet rumbled.

“You know what?” Cole said. “That alligator is just one great…big…giant…green pussy with teeth.”

“Sounds like the first Mrs. Walker,” Rusty said.

“Shut up, Rusty,” Sharon said.

The ground underneath Cole shook uncontrollably now. “Guys, get ready.”

“RAARGA!” Skippy burst through the floor, smashed the toilet to smithereens and clomped his jaws down on the leg that Cole had previously inserted into the toilet.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa!” Cole shouted.

“Now?!” Sharon asked.

“Not yet!” Cole cried as the vicious alligator broke through the stall walls and into the bathroom.

“Now?!” Sharon repeated.

With Cole’s leg gripped firmly between his sharp teeth, the alligator whipped Cole through the air like a rag doll. “Not yet!” Cole repeated.

Skippy dug his teeth into the leg, snarling and growling while Cole showed no signs of physical pain. He yanked off the breakaway pants to reveal that the toilet gator had chomped down on his prosthetic leg…which was encased in a healthy coating of C4.

As Cole was swung around, he pulled a small, black detonator stick and hovered his thumb over the red button on top. “NOW!”

Outside on the mall concourse, Sharon stepped on the Diablo’s gas pedal, bringing it down to the floor. She honked the horn furiously as looters and rabble rousers jumped out of the way just in time to avoid becoming road pizza.

Earlier, Rusty had secured his end of the rope to the car’s bumper. This lead to Cole being yanked by his belt out of the bathroom and into the mall itself, dragged roughly twenty feet behind the diablo in nothing but a black shirt and his tighty whitey underpants.

The alligator was in hot pursuit.

Cole locked eyes with the beast that was snapping its jaws at his heels. “See you in hell, toilet gator!”

He pressed the button. Nothing happened.

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