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Jun 10 2017
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Toilet Gator

Toilet Gator – Chapter 89

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Night fell over Sitwell as Moses led Cole into the hanger bay of a small, regional airport on the outskirts of town.

Cole looked around. He was surrounded by boxes filled with guns, ammo, and various vehicles covered with tarps. The walls were lined with shelves filled with bottles of protein powder, boxes of energy bars and meals ready to eat.

“How could you possibly afford to rent a place like this?” Cole asked.

“Cole,” Moses said. “I’ve never poked my nose into your personal business before and I’d appreciate it if you’d extend me the same courtesy.”

“I’m just surprised is all,” Cole said.

“Let’s just say I did a lot of shit in my day,” Moses said. “While Uncle Sam had me globe trotting all over the world doing his grunt work, I came up with all sorts of creative ways to cut me off a slice of the pie while no one was looking. People may think I’m crazy for being a doomsday prepper but I only keep this stuff in the event of a rainy day and brother, that toilet gator is making it pour.”

“Well,” Cole said. “What have you got?”

“I haven’t got a handgun that can match the awesome power of your Angry Barracuda, but…”

Moses fished around inside a crate and pulled out a rather menacing looking grenade launcher. “They call it the six-pack. It can launch up to a half-dozen grenades at the pull of a trigger.”

Cole took the weapon and examined it. “Nice.”

“You feed one of those to our scaly friend and he’ll end up with a bad case of heartburn, let me tell you,” Moses said. “I once saw one of those vaporize a man. Like, the dude was a man one second and the next, he was like a mist of soupy blood and guts falling to the ground.”

“Sounds like he was liquified then,” Cole said.

“Don’t play word games with me Cole,” Moses said. “Your fancy two-year associate’s degree from SCC means nothing to me.”

“Sorry,” Cole said. “Where’d you get it?”

Moses smirked. “Let’s just say it fell off the back of a truck.”

“Gotcha,” Cole said.

Moses pulled out a large machine gun. “The M249 Squad Automatic Weapon, better known as the ‘SAW.’ They call it that because it cuts through the enemy like a chainsaw through a piece of rotten wood. You point this at that alligator and it will spit hot lead at that big green prick like hellfire screaming out of the belly of the devil himself.”

“Did that fall off the back of a truck too?” Cole asked.

“You know it,” Moses said.

The doomsday prepper opened up a large metal box. Cole marveled at the site of what appeared to be a large bazooka.

“The Javelin,” Moses said. “The most powerful anti-tank missile capable of being fired from the shoulder of a human. Whoever’s doing the firing needs to line the target up but once it has locked on, God help whatever poor son of a bitch gets in its way.”

“Truck?” Cole asked.

“Truck,” Moses answered.

“Military truck drivers sure are sloppy,” Cole said.

“That they are,” Moses said.

Moses opened up a box to reveal a brick of a white, clay-like substance wrapped in clear cellophane.

“C4,” Moses said. “Plastic explosive. Insert the detonator, blow it up on your terms at a time of your choosing. Fell off the back of a…”

“…truck,” Cole said. “I got it. Everything in here just fell of the back of a truck.”

“I did not steal any of this,” Moses said. “I’m just keeping it all safe until the military realizes they lost it and asks for it back. Not my fault if they’re taking forever to realize its gone.”

In the center of the room, a large object was covered by a tarp. Cole lifted it up a tad to reveal a piece of camouflaged color metal with the word, “APACHE” stamped on it.

“You’re kidding me,” Cole said.

“Nope,” Moses said.

“Don’t tell me that fell off the back of a truck,” Cole said.

“I can’t tell you that it did not, not fall of the back of a truck,” Moses replied.

Cole let the tarp fall back over the metal object and pondered what he had just seen. “Hmm.”

“What?” Moses asked.

“Nothing,” Cole said. “It’s just, that’d be too much, right?”

“Definitely,” Moses said. “Hell, if I take it out of this hanger I’d be breaking about a thousand different laws.”

“Exactly,” Cole said.

“Hell,” Moses said. “I’m in hot water just for having it here.”

“Yeah,” Cole said as he stared at the tarp covered object.

“Yup,” Moses added.

“Let’s forget we ever considered it,” Cole said.

“Entirely forgotten,” Moses said.

 

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Jun 10 2017
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Toilet Gator

Toilet Gator – Network News One Transcript #8

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Network News One Transcript #8

KURT MANLEY: Witnesses on the scene report the bank robbers took off all their clothes and had a menage a trios right there in the vault with nothing but their socks and ski masks on. Authorities had no idea whether to break the orgy up or let it run its course so they just hanged back and pretended to not notice anything was going on until it was all over. Legal experts say it’ll be quite some time before the bandits will be eligible for parole. In other news, Schmo Tech just released a brand new version of the Schmo Phone. Dubbed the Schmo Phone 12, it promises all sorts of advanced apps and features to justify the price hike. One of NN1’s Hot Ass Blonde Chicks with Big Titties interviewed the legion of nerds camped outside the Big Apple’s Schmo Store, waiting to be one of the first geeks to get their hands on the device.

(Cut to a Hot Ass Blonde Chick with Big Titties, interviewing a nerd outside the Schmo Store in Times Square.)

RANDOM NERD: I’ve been a Schmo my whole life. I’ll always be a Schmo. Schmo Tech rules.

HOT ASS BLONDE CHICK WITH BIG TITTIES: But didn’t the Schmo Phone 11.9 just come out last Tuesday?

RANDOM NERD: Yes and it was awesome. I loved it.

HOT ASS BLONDE CHICK WITH BIG TITTIES: So why spend your money on a new version today?

RANDOM NERD: Because the Schmo Phone 11.9 is now an obsolete piece of garbage ready for the landfill. Schmo Phone 12 is where it’s at.

HOT ASS BLONDE CHICK WITH BIG TITTIES: But it’s only been about a week or so.

RANDOM NERD: Ugh. Don’t remind me. No one should ever be stuck with the same phone for more than a week. I mean, serious, what are we, cave people?

HOT ASS BLONDE CHICK WITH BIG TITTIES: Do you think there might be some profiteering involved? For example, this new Schmo Phone requires the user to buy a brand new charger and a brand new set of ear phones. Was it really necessary for these accessory ports to change?

RANDOM NERD: Of course. I totally trust the good people of Schmo Tech with all of my technology needs, and my personal information and the details of everything I’m searching the web for and the data behind everyone I’m calling and talking to and my daily schedule and all of my movements, where I’m going, what I’m doing, etc. There’s no way anyone at Schmo Tech would ever betray the trust that I have placed in them so blindly and carelessly.

(The Hot Ass Blonde Chick with Big Titties turns to the camera.)

HOT ASS BLONDE CHICK WITH BIG TITTIES: Well, there you have it, Kurt. Schmo Tech loves nerds and nerds love Schmo Tech.

KURT MANLEY: Thanks, Hot Ass Blonde Chick with Big Titties. Don’t forget to grab one of those phones for me.

(Kurt turns to a different camera.)

KURT MANLEY: Back to our main story, the humongous toilet gator who has every man, woman and child in the free world scared literally shitless. Have you all recovered since seeing that footage of the Mayor of Sitwell, Florida being devoured by a vicious lizard of gargantuan proportions? I have to admit, that sight made your favorite anchor’s stomach just a tad queasy. Meanwhile, you all might be too scared to shit, but the politicians are never too afraid to talk shit. President Vinny Stugotz and Florida Governor Brian Graysmith held a joint press conference in Tallahassee to address the toilet gator situation.

(Camera cuts to Governor Brian Graysmith behind a podium as a gaggle of reporters wave their hands about, looking to have their questions answered.)

GOVERNOR GRAYSMITH: Calm down, everyone. Calm down. Again, I’d like to remind you all that the one and only reason we are here today is to discuss the massive alligator that is currently on the loose, most likely on the run in our state’s sewer system and could very well be plotting to eat you and your loved ones while you defecate on the toilet. The President is a very busy man and I thank him for being here in Florida’s time of need. This is truly the darkest time period in our state’s history since we learned our chads were hanging. So please, limit your questions to the toilet gator and only the toilet gator and do not ask any questions about the ridiculous number of prostitutes I hired because if you do, you will be ignored. Yes, you! What’s your question?

RANDOM REPORTER #1: Governor, can you address allegations that you used public funds to pay for the ridiculous amount of hookers found in your hotel suite?

GOVERNOR GRAYSMITH: You will be ignored! Next question.

RANDOM REPORTER #2 – Governor, should everyone run around screaming and yelling at the top of their lungs, panicking like a bunch of escaped insane asylum lunatics until the toilet gator is subdued?

GOVERNOR GRAYSMITH: Yes, I think that would be…

(PRESIDENT STUGOTZ pushes Governor Graysmith aside and takes the podium.)

PRESIDENT STUGOTZ: OK, that’s enough out of you, lightweight. I’m sorry, I know, everyone tells me I should try to be nicer but I just couldn’t take it anymore. Governor Graysmith is a nice guy but believe me, he’s a total low energy loser and a big time hack. Believe me, OK? Believe me. Let’s talk about the toilet gator, OK? All you big losers in the media, you purveyors of fake news love to run around, stirring the public up, saying “What’s President Stugotz doing about the toilet gator?” and “Oh, shouldn’t President Stugotz have caught the toilet gator by now?” Listen. When it comes to catching toilet gators, no one is better at catching toilet gators than me, OK? Believe me. I’ve got a broad coalition of federal, state, and local officials combing the sewer system as we speak and we will find this toilet gator and bring his scaly hide to justice, that I can guarantee you. You are all so lucky to have my as president right now, OK, because believe me, anyone else would be quaking in their boots in fear of this toilet gator. Alright, I guess I’ll acknowledge you people in the media who are, quite frankly, and I mean this in the nicest possible way, a bunch of degenerate, scum sucking pigs. You’re all pigs. That’s all there is to it. Which one of you pigs has a question?

RANDOM REPORTER #3 – Mr. President, when you speak about the toilet gator in such unflattering terms, do you realize you’re insulting the entire community of alligators at large, many of whom are peaceful and law abiding?

PRESIDENT STUGOTZ: You’re a pig. Seriously. Take your underpants, pull them up over your back and attach them to your face because you deserve an atomic wedgie. Seriously. That’s what you deserve. Big time. Am I against all alligators? No. But for all the alligators out there, here’s the deal. You want to be an alligator in this country? You’ve got to play by the rules and act the way you’re supposed to. That means if you’re an alligator, you hang out in the swamp, maybe you eat a rat or frog or worst case scenario, a small child that wandered off from a campsite, just to teach the kid’s parents a costly lesson about responsibility. Maybe you can join the circus or a traveling carnival and do tricks but that’s all we want out of our alligators and if you behave yourselves, then you’ll have no problem from me. But, if you think you’re going to eat a bunch of God fearing Americans while they’re exercising their God given right to shit, no, not on my watch, bucko.

RANDOM REPORTER #4 – Mr. President, do you think it is possible to contain such an enormous beast?

PRESIDENT STUGOTZ: Listen up, pencil dick, and by the way, I don’t say that to be mean, I’m just stating a fact, that you have a tiny weenus, whereas mine is thick, long and girthy and if you don’t believe me, you can ask my supermodel wife, who is way hotter than your wife. That’s just a fact. It’s true. It’s totally true. Big time truth, here. And yes, you lowlife, I believe it is possible to capture the toilet gator because as long as I am president, anything is possible, OK? Keep in mind that all law enforcement officials have been instructed to kill the toilet gator on sight. However, if it ends up that the toilet gator is taken into custody, then I will be left with no choice but to build a wall around the toilet gator and make the toilet gator pay for it.

(The reporters wave their hands around, shouting out questions.)

PRESIDENT STUGOTZ: That’s enough questions for today. Remember, you’re all horrible people who should go home, take a long look in the mirror, and think about the many ways in which you have disappointed yourselves, your country, and your president. Stugotz out!

(Back to Kurt in studio).

KURT MANLEY: Some tough words for the toilet gator from President Stugotz. We take you now to Sitwell, Florida, where one of our Hot Ass Blonde Chicks with Big Titties is standing by with Cole Walker, the former police chief of Sitwell.

(Cut to Natalie Brock standing with Cole Walker outside the Sitwell Community College Library.)

KURT MANLEY: I understand it’s been a rough day in Sitwell, Hot Ass Blonde Chick with Big Titties.

NATALIE BROCK: Indeed, Kurt. Earlier today, a joint task force raided the home of Mayor Beaumont Dufresne, the man seen earlier being eaten alive by the toilet gator in a live television commercial. Authorities were hoping to take the Mayor’s son, Buford Dufresne, into custody as he was suspecting of aiding and abetting the toilet gator.

KURT MANLEY: Get out of town. Are you telling me the toilet gator had a human accomplice?

NATALIE BROCK: It looks that way, Kurt.

KURT MANLEY: This case is nuttier than a jar of chunky peanut butter.

NATALIE BROCK: Unfortunately, before the suspect could be apprehended, the toilet gator quite literally bursted onto the scene and gobbled up his conspirator as well as the entire task force.

KURT MANLEY: Holy flaming shitballs. That’s gotta be scary when the last thing you see in this life is the jaws of a hungry toilet gator coming at you.

NATALIE BROCK: Indeed. Meanwhile, the situation on the ground is getting intense, as citizens the National Guard has been deployed to enforce martial laws. Despite the increased military presence in the area, citizens continue to panic in a disorderly, reckless manner.

(Cut to a riot scene in downtown Sitwell. Looters run out of grocery store carrying stolen boxes of diapers. An angry rioter throws a trash can through the window of another store, then runs toward the camera with his arms flailing to and fro.)

ANGRY RIOTER: I’m panicking in a disorderly, reckless manner! ARRGH!

(NATALIE BROCK returns to screen).

NATALIE BROCK: Kurt, I’m joined by ex-police Chief Cole Walker, who has asked to speak to the toilet gator directly.

KURT MANLEY: Have at it, Mr. Walker.

(Natalie stares at Cole, who blinks at the camera.)

NATALIE BROCK: You’re on.

COLE WALKER: Oh. OK.

(Cole appears nervous. His hand trembles as he pulls out a piece of paper from his pocket, unfolds it and begins to read it.)

COLE WALKER: I’m sorry. I’ve never been on TV before.

KURT MANLEY: Relax, fella. You’re doing fine. If a bunch of dumb blonde bimbos with big racks can do it, then it’ll be a cinch for you, right Hot Ass Blonde Chick with Big Titties?

NATALIE BROCK: Sure, Kurt.

(Cole reads his note in a monotone voice, devoid of feeling.)

COLE WALKER: Attention, toilet gator. You have eaten a lot of private citizens who had no idea you were coming, as well as a joint task force who didn’t have any idea how to handle you. I have a question. Do you think you can take on an experienced hunter like me, a man who has faced some of the toughest animals in nature and is still here? I doubt you’d last long against me. In fact, I’m willing to bet you have a tiny alligator penis and my human penis is way bigger than yours. You wouldn’t last three seconds against me, but if you want to prove me wrong, meet me in the men’s restroom of the Sitwell Park Mall and we’ll finish this once and for all. Man vs. Alligator, mano a mano, human vs. reptile combat. Fail to show, and I will return to the airwaves to tell the world that you are little more than a giant green pussy with teeth.

(Cole looks up from his note.)

COLE WALKER: Thank you. That is all.

KURT MANLEY: Wow. “A giant green pussy with teeth.” Sounds like the third Mrs. Manley. There you have it, ladies and gentlemen. The toilet gator has been called out. Will he rise to the challenge? Man vs. Beast. Stick with NN1 to find out who wins. That’s it for now. Coming up in the next hour, is there a brand of butter that can turn an English muffin into a hot flaming disc of death? Better stop eating that muffin for now and we’ll tell you which brand of butter that is in the next hour, right after sports and weather. Stay tuned for these commercial messages.

ANNOUNCER: Network News One! The hottest blonde chicks! The biggest titties! Oh yeah, and occasionally we report the news and shit.

 

 

 

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Jun 04 2017
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Toilet Gator

Sixteen Weeks of Toilet Gator Sundays

Sixteen weeks.  Wow.  Time goes by so quickly.

I suppose “Toilet Gator Sundays” is a misnomer at this point.  At first, I pledged that I would only work on Toilet Gator on Sundays in order to give me enough time to finish Zom Fu.

At some point, I began cracking myself up that I just keep speeding through Toilet Gator.  Zom Fu is mostly done.  It just needs an ending.

My plan at this point is to finish the Toilet Gator first draft, then finish the Zom Fu first draft.  Then rewrite both books, get them off to an editor.  I’d like to say they will both be out by the end of this year but if it goes into next year, then so be it.

I have come to accept that writing is a long game.  I don’t like it, but I accept it.

toilet-gator-book-1

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Jun 02 2017
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Daily Discussion with BQB

Daily Discussion with BQB – Intelligence is a Curse

Happy Friday, 3.5 readers.

BQB here.  Do you ever wish you weren’t so smart?  I do.  All the time.

I’m surrounded by dumb people.  They never worry about anything.  I worry about everything because I’m so smart that my information filled brain realizes all of the potential bad things that could happen in any given situation.

Plus, I’m always down on myself because I feel like I failed, that I should have used my intelligence to do bigger, better things.

Do you know who doesn’t get down on themselves for failure?  Dumb people.  Know why?  They’re dumb.  You can’t realize you failed if you’re too dumb to figure out what success is.

Seriously.  Sometimes I think it would be easier to be a dummy.  Just watch TV and not worry about anything because there isn’t anything in my brain telling me to be worried or sad that I’m not super successful.

Then again, maybe I’m not that smart.  After all, I do work at Beige Corporation and moonlight as the proprietor of a blog that is only seen by 3.5 readers.  Perhaps I took a wrong turn an Albuquerque.

Crap.  No, I don’t really want to be a dummy.  Now I’m questioning my intelligence though.  I mean, if I’m so smart, why haven’t I figured out how to get 30.5 million readers by now?

I also feel like dumb people hate smart people.  Know why?  Being around them makes them feel, in a weird way, smart.  You know what a dumb person’s favorite pastime is?  Pointing out whenever a dumb person does something dumb.

You ever accidentally forget to tie your shoelace around a dumb person?  You know what they always say?  “What?  They don’t teach you how to tie shoelaces in college? Har dee har har!”

Shut up, dumb person.  No, they don’t teach you how to tie your shoe laces in college.

Alright.  This rant is getting dumb.  Peace out, 3.5 readers.  And if you think your intelligence is a curse, tell me about it in the comments.

Also, I’m just kidding.  I don’t think my intelligence is a curse.  I think I have just been held back by a world that is too dumb to realize my genius.  It’s ok though.  It makes me feel superior.

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May 29 2017
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Movies

Movie Review – Baywatch (2017)

Boobs!  So many boobs!  Did I mention the butts?

BQB here with a review of Baywatch.

It seems like every generation has a show that is terrible of terms of plot, yet beloved and watched anyway.  And in the next generation, that show is destined to be parodied and adults who used to love the show will love the parody.

The Brady Bunch, for example, was one of the silliest shows on TV in Uncle Hardass’ day. By the time I was a young man, the show was lampooned in a series of films where the Brady Bunch keep acting like they’re in the 1960s but in modern times.

Add Baywatch to the list of TV shows turned movie parodies.  Honestly, the premise of the original show was so silly that it’s hard to believe that it, in and of itself, was not a parody.  David Hasselhoff of Knight Rider fame used to parade his pecs around a California beach while Pamela Andersen and a bevy of other scantily clad beauties would show off their personal flotation devices.  (Psst!  I’m talking about their knockers!  Awooga!)  Somehow, the lifeguards would end up fighting desperadoes and solving beach related crimes in between rescues.

In this reimagining of the show, The Rock flexes his ridiculously awesome muscles as the new Lt. Mitch Buchannon, leader of the plucky young Baywatch crew.  Zac Efron, also packing some fab abs himself (which I noticed purely in a speculative way and not in a gay way although I’m told there’s nothing wrong with that anymore) is new recruit Brody, a once beloved Olympic swimmer who has since hit the skids after an embarrassing occurrence at the Rio games.

Mitch and Brodie but heads throughout the film.  Brody thinks he’s the best swimmer ever and has nothing else to learn.  Mitch points out that Brody has the swimming part down, but needs to work on teamwork and life saving skills.

Also, to Brody’s surprise, fighting crime.  Yes, as the group’s newcomer, he’s shocked to learn that whenever the lifeguards see crimes they don’t just, you know, call the police.  Instead, with no law enforcement training whatsoever, they take it upon themselves to follow leads, track down suspects, and bring down bad guys themselves.  The running joke of the film is that Brody is the only one who finds this odd.

Additional new recruits include Summer Quinn (Alexandra Daddario) and Ronnie Greenbaum (Jon Bass.)  To the film’s credit, Baywatch, whether in TV form or this version, has always been known for putting the hottest beach bodies on TV.  This time, the crew adds Ronnie the tech nerd, the only lifeguard with a flabby physique that requires him to run through the sand with his shirt still on.  Naturally, he’s the comic relief and butt of many jokes because, you know, a nerd could never be just, really awesome and a super important member of the team but hey, baby steps.  They let a chubby guy get a role in a film for beautiful people so you got to start somewhere.

Meanwhile, Alexandra is hot while Kelly Rohrbach is an epic inducer of boners in her reprisal of Pam Anderson’s CJ Parker role.  Boi-yoi-yoi-yoi-yoing!

Cameos by Pam and Hoff themselves.  Pam’s is somewhat humorous.  Hoff’s is as well, though it doesn’t make a lot of sense.

In fact, little of the film does.  Much of it is slapped together simply so you can enjoy the beautiful beach scenery and all of the hot boobs and butts and wonder where you went so wrong that you didn’t hit the gym more and get your ass out to California while you could have.

Hell, if you’re still breathing maybe it’s not too late.  Start working out now and invest in hair dye.  Also, find Pam’s plastic surgeon.  Sigh.  Do you know I don’t think there was a single man in the 1990s who wasn’t tugging it to the Pamster 24/7?  Ahh, memories, like the corners of my mind…

Did I mention there are a lot of boobs and butts?  There’s also a…uh…well I’ll let you see it for yourself but suffice it to say, there is one scene that I was surprised didn’t earn the film a XXX porno rating.

STATUS:  Split decision.  If you came for humor, action, boobs and butts, it’s an A+.  If you came for something serious, you picked the wrong movie.  Personally, I find it shelf worthy due to the boobs and butts.  FYI none of them are uncovered but you know, close enough.

 

 

 

 

 

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May 27 2017
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Toilet Gator

Toilet Gator – Chapter 59

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A gaggle of Cole’s former police officers, now Grover County Sheriff’s deputies, buzzed around the room that had once served as Cole’s office, packing up and moving out their ex-boss’s belongings. Three deputies carried out the stuffed heads of Cole’s tiger, bear, and wild boar.

Cole stepped out into the main floor, carrying an open cardboard box filled with his possessions. As he did, the officers clapped until Sheriff Hammond whistled loudly.

“That’s enough of that,” Hammond said. “I don’t care what you all did before but there will be no applause for losers on my watch.”

Cole glared at Hammond. “You don’t think the Mayor will turn on you one day?”

Hammond chewed on a piece of gum. “The Mayor plays ball. I play ball. That was always your problem, Cole. You never knew when to sit down and shut up.”

Cole did not feel like prolonging the pissing match. He walked on, only to soon find that Maude was following him, gas tank in hand.

“What are you doing?” Cole asked.

“I only work for the Sitwell Police Chief,” Maude said. “If he’s not here anymore, then it’s time for me to retire.”

“Noble,” Cole said. “But stupid. I can’t let you do this.”

“You’re not letting me do anything,” Maude said. “You think you can stop me?”

The old lady turned around and faced the room full of officers. “This is bullshit! This has nothing to do with the investigation. This is all about sandbagging Cole because that Mayor can’t stop himself from getting behind the wheel while he’s snookered!”

“That’s enough lip outta you,” Hammond said.

“Aww, go sixty-nine the Mayor, flatfoot,” Maude said. “And the rest of you. Are you all going to take this lying down?”

Rusty, who had been standing in a back corner, gulped and stepped forward, joining Cole and Maude.

“This isn’t right,” Rusty said.

“Deputy Yates!” Hammond shouted.

“Cole,” Rusty said. “You say the word and I’ll walk out this door with you.”

Cole stood there silently and said nothing.
“Oh thank God,” Rusty said. “I mean I don’t want you to go but shit, I got overdue bills up my ass, I’m nowhere near retirement age, I’d be throwing away years of contributing to the pension fund.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Cole said.

“I won’t,” Rusty said. “Thanks Cole.”

“Pussy,” Maude said.

“Shut up, Maude,” Rusty said.

“Know your place, Deputy Yates,” Hammond said.

“Yessir,” Rusty said as he fell back.

As Cole and Maude reached the parking lot, they found Sharon and Gordon saying their goodbyes.

“It’s not a problem,” Maude said. “You deserve to run lead on this.”

“This isn’t how I wanted it to go down,” Gordon said.

“I know,” Sharon replied. “Buck up. Finish this and before you know it, we’ll be back together in Miami in no time.”

Sharon and Gordon embraced. Cole winced.

“He’s definitely plowing her,” Maude said.

“Thanks Maude,” Cole said.

“Sorry,” Maude replied.

Sharon noticed Cole and smiled at him sheepishly. “I’m sorry about all this. Looking back, maybe it wasn’t right for me to take on an investigation involving your town. I should have recused myself.”

“No,” Cole said. “It has nothing to do with you. The Mayor’s punishing me because I stood up to him and he’s punishing you to get to me.”

Sharon sighed. “America loves to put assholes into office.”

“That it does,” Cole said.

The exes stared at each other for awhile before Cole stepped away. “Goodbye then.”

“Cole?” Sharon said.

Cole stopped in his tracks. “Yeah?”

“What are you going to do with the rest of your day?” Sharon asked.

“The gun range crossed my mind,” Cole said.

“Want to give me a ride down to Miami?” Sharon asked. “Gordon drove me up here.”

Cole felt this was a ridiculously bad idea but he could not help himself from saying, “Sure.”

“I’ll get my stuff and be back and five,” Sharon said as she walked away.

Maude shook her head.

“What?” Cole asked.

“Pussy,” Maude said.

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May 22 2017
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Tomfoolery

People Want to Know My Secret!

People always ask me:

“Bookshelf Q. Battler – how did you become the best blogger of all time?  I too want to have 3.5 readers.”

Well, you’re in luck.  I wrote up a handy guide to blogging greatness and you can find it here.

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May 21 2017
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TV

Johnson/Hanks 2020

Dwayne “The Rock” Johnson and Tom Hanks jokingly claimed on SNL a plan to run for President and Vice-President on the season finale of SNL last night.

Would you vote for them?  Something tells me that just becomes the Trumpster won doesn’t mean that it would work for any celebrity.

Sigh.  The Rock is right though.  America is only in agreement on one thing – that these two are great.  Getting into politics would ruin that for them.  After all, the best anyone can ever do as President is to make 50% of the people happy at any given time.

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May 21 2017
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Toilet Gator

Toilet Gator – Chapter 56

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President Vincenzo “Vinny” Stugotz sat in front of a mirror of his presidential dressing room while a team of servants ran around, prepping him for his day. Two servants lowered a one-foot tall, jet black pompadour on the President’s bald cranium and stapled it to his scalp.

“Ouch,” the President said as the staples entered his skin. “So painful and yet, so swanky.”

The President ran a comb through his luxurious faux hair while two more servants brought over an array of spray cans. “Shall we go with Tropical Surprise or Mediterranean Madness today, sir?”

“Hmm,” President Stugotz said. “You know, I’m feeling a little extra pale today. Let’s go with the Maui Madness.”

“Maui Madness it is, sir,” a servant said. The President popped two plastic eye guards over his eyeballs while the servants shook up their spray cans. Soon, the Commander-in-Chief was being doused in the face with a hefty application of spray on tanning solution.

“Ahh,” the President said as he admired his look in the mirror. “So brown I wouldn’t even let myself in the country!”

There was a knock on the door. “Sir, are you decent?”

“OMG,” President Stugotz said. “Who would dare disturb me at this ungodly hour?”

“It’s eleven a.m. sir,” came the voice from the other side of the door.

“That early?” President Stugotz said. “The sacrifices I make for my country. Come in, Bob.”

Bob Breckenridge, the President’s buzz cut sporting Chief-of-Staff, stepped in only to find a butt naked POTUS.

“Sir,” Breckenridge said. “Seal Team Ten is waiting outside and oh…oh my…”

“Don’t act like you’ve never seen an executive branch before, Bob,” the President said as he turned to his servants. “Black suit number ninety-seven. Elongated red power tie number fifty-two. Make it snappy.”

The servants whirled around the President, dressing him up nice and stylish. Once he was fully clothed, he looked at his dutiful subordinate.

“Bob,” the President said. “I’ve been glued to Network News One. Literally glued. I can’t take my eyes off of it. I’ve been Lifeboxing all of their coverage.”

“I once again must ask that you run all of your Lifebox comments by the cabinet, sir,” Breckenridge said. “‘The Hotass Blonde Chicks need to have twenty percent bigger titties’ is not presidential at all.”

“I thought I was being restrained,” President Stugotz said. “Really, ninety-percent would be better. I mean, those reporter ladies have some incredibly big titties already, but if you ask me, only ridiculously, absurdly, cartoonishly large breasts will do.”

“Right,” Breckenridge said. “Anyway, sir. Are you ready for your top secret mission?”

“Of course,” the President said. “Let’s move.”

President Stugotz and Breckenridge exited the bedroom and proceeded to walk down a long hallway, surrounded by the members of Seal Team Ten. Each member was clad in black body armor and helmets that covered their faces. They carried automatic weapons. They spoke through microphones in their helmets.

“The Eagle is on the move,” one member said. “Repeat, the Eagle is on the move.”

“Copy,” another member said. “Exterminate all threats with extreme prejudice.”

“Bob,” President Stugotz said. “I want to be straight with you. This mission is not for the feint of heart and frankly, some of us might not be coming back so if you want to run away like a little school girl in pigtails, now is the time.”

“No way, sir,” Breckenridge said. “I signed up to stand by your side as you lead America into a new age of glory and nothing will scare me away.”

“That’s a tremendous response, Bob,” the President said. “Really, classy. Big time classiness.”

The contingent stopped at an elevator. Breckenridge typed in a long numeric code and pressed his thumb onto an identification plate. The elevator doors opened and the contingent entered.

“Has the site been thoroughly swept?” President Stugotz asked.

“Indeed, sir,” one of the seal team members said. “The K9 unit just made a pass through and reported no hits.”

“Excellent,” President Stugotz said. “That’s amazing. Really fabulous. You’re all aces in my book. Aces.”

The elevator began to descend deep underneath the White House. The floors ticked off on the readout. “Sublevel 1, Sublevel 2, Sublevel 3…”

“Mr. President,” Breckenridge said. “I must admit, the polls on your response to the Toilet Killer situation are not good.”

“No, they aren’t, Bob,” the President said. “That’s why you need to get the FBI Director on the phone and get that lady agent pulled off the case.”

“Is it really proper to interfere with an investigation, sir?” Breckenridge asked.

“Is it really proper to keep allowing honest, hard-working Americans to be murdered while they’re shitting, Bob?” the President asked. “Good God, man. Use your head. Every shitter that’s murdered is a potential voter and one less person who will show up to vote for me in 2020. Batzengant and Wannadingle are busting a nut every time the Toilet Killer strikes because they know people will never vote for a President who allowed a Toilet Killer to kill indiscriminately and with reckless abandon on his watch. Like those asshats could do any better, they couldn’t get a bill through the Senate with a bucket a grease and an offer for a free hooker for everyone on Capitol Hill.”

“I’m told that Agent Walker is highly respected in law enforcement circles,” Breckenridge said.

The elevator continued to drop. “Sublevel 45, sub level 46, sub level 47…”

“Yeah,” President Stugotz said. “But you heard that hayseed Mayor on TV. Agent Walker has a vagina and frankly, that’s an excellent point.”

“That she has a vagina, sir?” Breckenridge asked.

“Exactly,” President Stugotz said. “I mean, it’s not her fault that she has one, sure, but I concur with the Mayor of Sitwell on this one. Only a big, beautiful man with a giant penis will be able to solve this most confounding case and we need to get it solved quick so I can get back to the very important business of Making America Fabulous again. I promised my voters a fabulous America and by God, they will get a fabulous America.”

“Well,” Breckenridge said. “I’ve been going through the FBI files and it just so happens that Agent Walker’s partner, Agent Bishop, has an extraordinary large penis, so big, in fact, that the FBI’s head physician classified it as a ‘medical oddity.’”

“I don’t even want to know why you’re looking up FBI agent penis sizes, Bob,” President Stugotz said.

“I like to be thorough, sir,” Breckenridge said.

The elevator stopped at sub-level 101. The contingent exited and began walking through a long, dark hallway. They came to the first door and a robotic voice came through a loudspeaker.

“Retina identification, please.”

President Stugotz shoved his eyeball up to a scanner. The door opened. The contingent walked down yet another long hallway.

“Whatever,” President Stugotz said. “Take Agent Walker off. Put Agent Bishop in charge.”

“Will do, sir,” Breckenridge said.

“Americans cannot be afraid to shit anymore,” the President said. “No one’s going to be scared to take a shit on my watch.”

The contingent stopped at another door. “Breath identification, please.”

President Stugotz breathed on a scanner. The door opened and the contingent headed down yet another hallway.

“Are we ready for this shit, Bob?” President Stugotz asked.

“All safety precautions have been taken, sir,” Breckenridge said. “The Air Force has scrambled its best fighter jet pilots to keep watch overhead, while our best tank battalion has arrived on the White House front lawn.”

“Fantastic,” President Stugotz said.

The contingent reached a final door. “Voice identification, please.”

“President Vinny Stugotz, here,” the President said.

The door opened as the robotic voice replied, “President Stugotz voice identification scan complete. All hail President Stugotz.”

The contingent entered a top secret, underground bathroom with black walls, floors, and a sleek, stylish toilet in the center of the room. Five secret service agents wearing dark sunglasses stood around the toilet, with their arms folded behind their backs.

“Sir,” one of the agents said. “Ready for waste elimination when you are, sir.”

President Stugotz turned the members of Seal Team Ten. “Are we a go?”

“Waiting on your go code, sir,” one of the members said.

President Stugotz held up his wrist and played with the buttons on his watch. “Synchronize your watches on my mark…mark!”

All seals and secret service agents adjusted their watches accordingly.

“Go code alpha bravo charlie one one zero one one niner five,” President Stugotz said.

“Go code is a solid copy,” one of the seals said. “Confirmation code beta beta hawkeye delta one seven four. Proceed when ready.”

President Stugotz dropped his pants and sat on the toilet.
One seal held up a sniper rifle. “Sniper unit standing by.”

A second seal held up a jagged tactical knife. “Hand to hand combat unit, standing by.”

A third seal held up a can of air freshener and sprayed a cherry vanilla scent into the room. “Air freshener unit standing by.”

The agents and seals formed a circler around the toilet and turned their backs to give the President some privacy.

“Maybe I should just step outside,” Breckenridge said.

The President strained his bowels. “Ergh…ugh…no. Don’t be silly. This is going to be a working shit, Bob. I’ve got more orders for you.”

“Very good, sir,” Breckenridge replied.

“Aargh,” the President said as his face turned red. “Damn it, this is going to be awhile. I know I should have listened to the First Lady about those damn bran muffins.”

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May 21 2017
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Toilet Gator

Toilet Gator – Network News One Transcript #5

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Network News One Transcript #5

KURT MANLEY: Witnesses on the scene said the manatees ate every last one of the environmentalist protesters, causing the workers on the oil rig to laugh and laugh and laugh some more. Talk about cruel irony.

(Kurt looks at a different camera.)

KURT MANLEY: Good morning, USA. If you’re just joining us, I’m Kurt Manley, America’s Favorite News Anchor. You’re watching Network News One, the only channel with the hottest blonde chick reporters with the biggest titties. Oh yeah, and occasionally we report the news and shit.

(A graphic pops up to Kurt’s right. It depicts a toilet with a big giant X stamped on it.)

KURT MANLEY: And now for our top story. “America’s Shitting Nightmare.” The toilet killer has struck again, this time taking the life of Adelaide Hotchkiss, an elderly stripper better known to the patrons of the Sitwell, Florida erotic entertainment nightclub Big Ray-Ray’s House of Fancy Funbags by her stage name, “Roxy.”

(An obese man with a long beard, sunglasses, and a stained shirt appears on screen, speaking into a microphone.)

BIG RAY-RAY: Aw, hell yeah it’s sadder than a monkey fucking a football in this joint ever since we learned about Old Roxy. She wasn’t my prettiest stripper, or even my best one but dammit, that gal has never missed a day of work since 1987. From the Reagan Era all through the 1990s and 2000s, if there’s been one constant around here, it’s been Roxy’s big, gelatin filled ass working its way all over the sweatpants clad crotches of all of my discerning gentlemen customers. That’s why, in Roxy’s honor, all lap dances will be fifty percent off for the rest of the day and I’m gonna knock a dollar off the cost of the all you can eat hot wing bar. It’s the least I can do.

(KURT MANLEY, back in studio)

KURT MANLEY: Four grizzly murders in two days. All of the victims evacuating their bowels on the toilet when they met their doom. This has caused widespread panic in Florida, where residents have become so scared of sitting on the crapper that they’ve been coming up with new methods of eliminating their bodily waste. Here’s a Hot Ass Blonde Chick with Big Titties with more on this story.

(NATALIE BROCK appears on camera, standing in front of the Sitwell Police Station. She is wearing her blonde wig and her bra is stuffed with ripe melons.)

NATALIE BROCK: That’s right, Kurt. The latest development in the Toilet Killer’s non-stop murder spree is that Floridians are scared too shit! I conducted a series of man on the street interviews to find out why people are so terrified of the toilet. Check out these results.

(NATALIE’S man on the street interviews begin. First, an average looking guy in a polo T-shirt.)

RANDOM MAN: I have had to go for nearly thirty-five hours now, but I’ve been holding it.

NATALIE BROCK: Why?

RANDOM MAN: I do not want to end up like Countess Cucamonga or any of those other people. If I don’t shit then the Toilet Killer can’t get me.

NATALIE BROCK: Thirty-five hours. That’s some amazing sphincter control right there.

RANDOM MAN: Yes, I’m very proud of myself.

NATALIE BROCK: Still, that’s a long time. Aren’t you worried that you’ll eventually lose control and…

RANDOM MAN: No, ma’am. I’m in peak physical condition. I can hold it for as long as I need to and….ERGH…

(The man’s face turns red. NATALIE waves the air away from her nose.)

RANDOM MAN: Nevermind.

NATALIE BROCK VOICEOVER: Yes, while some citizens have tried holding it, others have turned to less traditional methods of shit disposal.

(NATALIE confronts a man wearing a T-shirt from his favorite rock band. He’s standing next to a pile of cardboard boxes and holding one of them up in the air.)

BOX SALESMAN: Get your shit boxes! Get your shit boxes! Fifty bucks for a shit box!

(An old man performs an impromptu “I need to shit dance” as he walks up to the salesman and forks over some cash).

OLD MAN: Give me one of those!

BOX SALESMAN: Pleasure doing business with you, sir.

NATALIE BROCK: Sir, are you profiteering off of a tragedy?

BOX SALESMAN: Are you kidding me? I’m performing a service here, lady. People need to shit. Toilets aren’t safe. A cardboard box is the next thing.

NATALIE BROCK: But fifty dollars for a cardboard box is outrageous.

BOX SALESMAN: I went to a lot of trouble to get these boxes. I had to run around town swiping them from liquor stores and grocery stores all day. Look, people need to shit and I’m giving them a safe alternative.

NATALIE’S VOICEOVER: While concerned citizens are turning to non-traditional shit holding containers, some are just going au natural.

(A young couple walk through a park, holding hands. They cop a squat next to a tree, drop their pants, and let it rip. Black bars appear over their private areas.)

NATALIE’S VOICEOVER: Some are even predicting the end of days.

(A homeless man wearing a trash bag as a shirt walks up and down a street, ringing a bell. Over his trash bag shirt, he wears a sandwich board sign that reads, ‘Repent All Ye Shitters!’”

HOMELESS MAN: The end of the world draws nigh! Shit and be damned!

NATALIE BROCK: Sir, do you really think the Toilet Killer is worth all this fuss?

HOMELESS MAN: Yes! The Toilet Killer is one of the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse! First, it’s the Toilet Killer, killing you while you shit! Next it will come the Urinal Killer, who will chop off your dick with a butcher knife while you take you a piss!

NATALIE BROCK: That’s a rather grim prognostication.

HOMELESS MAN: Indeed! Next comes the Bidet Killer. He’ll shoot you in the ass while you’re just trying to clean your rear-end and finally, the Bath Tub killer will destroy all who try to tidy up. I haven’t taken a bath since the first George Bush was president and everyone laughed at me but who’s laughing now, huh? Who’s laughing now?! Muah ha ha!

NATALIE BROCK’S VOICEOVER: A handful of residents continue to brave the porcelain throne, but not without taking extreme cautionary measures.

(NATALIE is lead to the bathroom of Freedom Firepower by MOSES. There, she finds Felix on the can holding a twelve-gauge shotgun. His privates are covered by a black bar.)

MOSES: Ma’am, this here is America, land of the free and home of the brave. In 1776, George Washington swam across the Atlantic, cock punched King George and said, “Listen you limey fuck stick, America is ours now, so cut all the bullshit if you don’t want another cockpunch.” George Washington then swam back to America where he then proceeded to round house kick every last red coat in the face until they all begged for mercy.

NATALIE BROCK: I’m not sure you have the best grasp on history, sir.

MOSES: And you sound like a raging liberal cook burger who wants to perform cunnilingus on Hillary Clinton, ma’am.

NATALIE BROCK: Let’s move on.

MOSES: Yes. Anyway, all I’m saying is this is America. King George couldn’t keep it and we’ve defended it from all sorts of enemies over the years, ranging from the Nazis to the damn terrorists and now we’ve got a Toilet Killer out there, running amuck. People, you can’t stop shitting on your toilets because if you stop shitting on toilets then the Toilet Killer wins.

NATALIE BROCK: But what about people who are afraid of becoming the Toilet Killer’s next victim?

MOSES: Simple, ma’am. Come on down to Freedom Firepower and for the low, low price of a thousand dollars, you can take a shit in my customer bathroom, which I have turned into the most secure shit parlor in the land.

NATALIE BROCK: What security measures have you taken?

MOSES: Well, as you can see, my hetero life partner Felix is packing a twelve-gauge. That’s fully loaded and can blow a hole the size of a trash can lid through an assailant at ten paces. We’ll give you one of those to hold onto while you’re taking a dump because when it comes to safety, the first line of defense comes from the shitter him or herself. Yes, I said “herself” because we’re not going to discriminate against you if you’re a woman. The lady folk need protection while they shit too.

NATALIE BROCK: Any other precautions?

MOSES: Yes.

(MOSES points out five different cameras lining the walls, all pointed at the toilet)

MOSES: Five, count ‘em five HD security cameras will capture all the action, so if the Toilet Killer dares show his ugly face in here, we will get a positive ID on the perpetrator.

NATALIE BROCK: Will that footage be erased after your customers use the bathroom?

MOSES: I can’t comment on that but it will not be uploaded on a website called “HD Bathroom Footage” where subscriptions will be sold for $29.99 a month, that I can assure you.

NATALIE BROCK: Anything else?

(MOSES holds up a high-powered assault rifle)

MOSES: Yes, I of course, will be standing watch over you while you move your bowels and any and all intruders who dare to enter into my line of sight will be cut down posthaste. No one is going to kill any shitters on my watch.

NATALIE BROCK: Is that all?

(MOSES flips a switch. A grid of red lasers fills the bathroom.)

MOSES: These lasers are connected to C4 rigged explosive devices that I have packed into the walls, so whatever you do, don’t make any sudden moves.

NATALIE BROCK: But won’t that also kill the person on the toilet?

MOSES: It’s called “mutually assured self destruction,” ma’am. Simply put, if the Toilet Killer tries to kill one of my shitting customers, he will have to kill himself in the process. I’m willing to be good money that the Toilet Killer is such a coward that he would never dare put himself in danger and therefore all my customers will be safe while they shit.

NATALIE: Mutually assured self-destruction, you say?

MOSES: Yes. It’s the same reason why America and Russia have all those nukes. Every country needs to stock up on nukes to keep all the other countries with nukes from nuking them. If everyone has a nuke, then everyone will be afraid to drop a nuke. The more nukes in the world, the safer the world is. That’s just science.

NATALIE: Well, I suppose you can’t argue with science.

NATALIE VOICEOVER: I caught up with Mayor Dufresne to obtain his views on the matter.

(Mayor Dufresne appears in his car lot, holding up a bag of adult diapers next to a porta-potty.)

THE MAYOR: Howdy, y’all! This Toilet Killer really is an insufferable Son of a Bitch, ain’t he? Well, I’ll tell you what, Mayor Beaumont Dufresne isn’t about to allow his constituency to suffer. No siree, Bob! Y’all mosey on over to Mayor Beaumont Dufresne’s Slightly Used Car Emporium and for a hundred dollars, you can take a shit in one of the many ports-potties I have had trucked onto my lot. The Toilet Killer hasn’t struck a porta-potty yet, so I have no doubt y’all will be safe in one of my outhouses.

NATALIE BROCK: Mayor, that’s nice, but what about…

THE MAYOR: The shitter on the go? No problem. I have bought up every last adult diaper in Grover County, so come on down and I will outfit you with some man-sized disposable underpants for the low price of seventy-five dollars a pair.

NATALIE BROCK: Actually, I wanted to get your thoughts on the investigation.

THE MAYOR: Oh, it’s a shambles, my dear. An absolute shambles. Four people have been killed on the John in less than two days, two of those people right here in Sitwell and do you know what that incompetent boob Chief Walker did?

NATALIE BROCK: What?

THE MAYOR: He went in hauled in my boy Buford for questioning. The boy’s simple and slower than a pile of molasses running down hill in January and anyone could take one look at him and realize the kid can barely zip up his own fly let alone plot and carry out a series of toilet murders with cunning precision. Yet, that idiot Walker wasted the taxpayers’ time and money harassing my boy when he could have been out there looking for the real killer.

NATALIE BROCK: So I take it you think the investigation is not going well?

THE MAYOR: Not at all. That’s why this morning I called upon the town counsel and drew up the papers necessary to have all of Sitwell’s police functions transferred over into the very competent hands of Sheriff Hammond.

(The Mayor knocks on a porta-potty door)

THE MAYOR: Sheriff, can you come out and have a word with the press?

SHERIFF HAMMOND: Ungh…one second.

(The Sheriff steps out of the porta-potty and buckles up his belt.)

SHERIFF HAMMOND: Yes, good people of Sitwell, have no fear, for Chief Walker’s reign of terror as the town’s worst ever officer of the law is over. I’m proud to announce that all Sitwell police officers will from here on become Grover County Sheriff’s Deputies.

NATALIE BROCK: Will there be any cutbacks?

(The SHERIFF pulls out a piece of paper and puts on a pair of reading glasses.)

SHERIFF HAMMOND: Yes, ma’am. I hold in my hand here a list of the Sitwell Police Department officers who did not make the final cut. Ahem. ‘Chief Cole Walker.’ That is all.

(THE MAYOR and THE SHERIFF laugh in a maniacal manor.)

NATALIE BROCK: Mr. Mayor, will removing Chief Walker from office really have any impact on this investigation? After all, Sharon Walker is the FBI agent in charge.

THE MAYOR: Yes, and it’s a crying shame she is, because frankly darling, and I don’t mean any offense, but I really don’t think that anyone with a vagina is up to the challenge of bringing in the Toilet Killer. What we need is a man with a big ole’ swingin’ dick to catch this vile fiend. That’s why I am, as of now, calling on President Stugotz to intervene and take Agent Walker off of this investigation. Anyone who married a man with a penis as small as the one that ex-Chief Walker is packing has exercised poor judgment, in my humble opinion, and can no longer be trusted with such a sensitive investigation. People’s lives are at stake.

NATALIE BROCK: That’s a very serious claim.

THE MAYOR: These are very serious times, my dear. Very serious times indeed.

(NATALIE reappears live in front of the Sitwell Police Station.)

NATALIE BROCK: Kurt, ex-Chief Walker refused to return any of my calls for comment, but it seems as though things are heating up behind the scenes, with the investigators themselves coming under heavy fire.

KURT MANLEY: An interesting development indeed, Hot Ass Blonde Chick with Big Titties. By the way, I’m told by our top notch team of attorneys here at Network News One that we are able to reveal a very big secret to our audience, is that correct?

NATALIE BROCK: Yes, Kurt. During the Toilet Killer’s rampage, someone, and I’m fairly certain it was the Toilet Killer himself, texted my cell phone, providing me with updates on his gruesome crimes. Upstanding citizen that I am, I reported this matter to Agent Walker and having been holding back on this information out of fear that publicly divulging it could jeopardize the investigation. However, Agent Walker has confirmed to me as of this morning that the results of her inquiry into the text messages came up inconclusive, and the Toilet Killer is no closer to being captured.

KURT MANLEY: Hot Ass Blonde Chick with Big Titties, I am stunned that Agent Walker is fumbling this case big time. I mean, you gave Agent Walker your phone with text messages on it from the killer. What more evidence could she possibly need?

NATALIE BROCK: We can only assume those messages were from the killer, Kurt.

KURT MANLEY: Don’t interrupt a man while he’s speaking, Hot Ass Blonde Chick with Big Titties.

NATALIE BROCK: I’m sorry, Kurt.

KURT MANLEY: As you should be. I’m just pointing out that Agent Walker seems to be screwing up this case big time and a monkey wearing a Sherlock Holmes hat would probably be better suited to lead the investigation at this point. Maybe the Mayor is right. Maybe it’s time for someone without a vagina to take a look into this matter.

NATALIE BROCK: I’ll be staying on this case as it develops, Kurt.

KURT MANLEY: Thank you, Hot Ass Blonde Chick with Big Titties. Sticking with this story, while the toilet killer’s rampage has, so far, been concentrated in Florida, people across the country and around the world have voiced their own concerns about shitting.

(Footage is shown of people throwing toilets into the streets and smashing them with hammers and baseball bats.)

KURT MANLEY: Riots have broken out in every major city, with people smashing their toilets to smithereens, too afraid to even keep them in their homes anymore. Meanwhile, our intrepid team of Hot Ass Blonde Chick Reporters with Big Titties have informed this anchor that reports of shitting related fears have been coming in from every continent. Even scientists in Antartica are concerned…

(Footage shows of a scientist in a fluffy down parka with the hood pulled over his head squatting over a hole in the ice while a gaggle of penguins watch.)

KURT MANLEY: The Pope even commented on the situation during a recent mass at the Vatican…

(Footage of the Pope addressing a mass.)

THE POPE: Il poopi di poopi poopi si como ti poopi poopi il shitti shitti….

VOICE OVER TRANSLATOR: As Jesus once said, ‘Let he who is not afraid to take a shit cast the first shit.’ Blessed are the meek shitters, for they shall inherit the earth.

KURT MANLEY: And Sir Alistair Smythe, Official Spokesman for the Queen of England, had this to say.

(Footage of a rather dapper looking British gentleman in front of a podium.)

SIR ALISTAIR SMYTHE: Ladies and Gentlemen, the Queen very much appreciates your inquiries into her water closet related safety but I assure you, this is a non-issue. The Queen is not afraid to shit for the simple fact that Her Majesty has never once taken a shit in her entire life. Everyone knows that members of the royalty do not shit. Rather, their waste spontaneously combusts while a feint scent of cinnamon emanates from their bodily cavity.

(SIR SMYTHE looks around to see if the coast is clear.)

SIR ALISTAIR SMYTHE: But if you can keep it on the down low, then I might be inclined to inform you that Her Majesty will be taking her shits in the corner and blaming it on her adorable Corgis for the foreseeable future.

(Kurt, back in studio)

KURT MANLEY: Back at home, the presidential election is years away, yet President Stugotz’ top 2020 challengers are already turning the Toilet Killer’s wide swath of destruction into a campaign issue. Live via satellite feed, we have Senator Jason Batzengant, who intends to challenge President Stugotz in the next Republican presidential primary, and Senator Elsie Wannadingle, the Democratic frontrunner. Senators, welcome.

SENATOR BATZENGANT: Thank you.

SENATOR WANNADINGLE: Good to be here, Kurt.

KURT MANLEY: Senator Batzengant, let’s start with you. President Stugotz’s national approval ratings are stagnant, yet among Republican voters, they’re higher than ever. What makes you think you’d be able to knock Stugotz off the throne?

SENATOR BATZENGANT: I’ve got two words for you, Kurt. “Toilet Killer Insanity.”

KURT MANLEY: That’s three words, Senator.

SENATOR BATZENGANT: Don’t try to trip me up with your fancy liberal book learning, Kurt. This Toilet Killer situation is a mess and President Stugotz has done nothing about it. President Stugotz promised to be a law and order president, one who would bring criminals to justice and yet he’s done nothing but play one round of golf after another while Florida residents are being murdered simply for exercising their constitutional right to shit.

KURT MANLEY: I’m not sure there is a constitutional right to shit, Senator.

SENATOR BATZENGANT: It’s in the back, somewhere. Listen, we need a president who isn’t going to be a little pussy boy, coddling criminals while God-fearing, taxpaying Americans are cowering in their bathrooms, scared to death of their own toilets and too afraid to shit. That’s why, when I’m president, I’m going to lock up anyone who has even looked at a toilet cross-eyed. That’s right, I am going to flood our prison industrial complex with people who fit a very distinct potential Toilet Killer profile and only then will it be safe to shit again.

KURT MANLEY: Senator Wannadingle, your thoughts?

SENATOR WANNADINGLE: Kurt, that blowhard conservative jackass has it all wrong.

SENATOR BATZENGANT: Don’t call me a blowhard conservative, you commie pinko rug chomper.

KURT MANLEY: Let’s retract the claws, kittens. 2020 is still a long way away.

SENATOR WANNADINGLE: All I was trying to say before I was so rudely interrupted by that jack booted fascist is that it is not very woke to assume this Toilet Killer is a bad person.

KURT MANLEY: But he’s killing people while they’re shitting on the toilet.

SENATOR WANNADINGLE: Is he? Or is he expressing his rage at a system that puts the one percent of millionaires and billionaires above the impoverished classes. Maybe this Toilet Killer, maybe he’s a man, maybe he’s a woman, maybe he or she is a bisexual genderqueer other-kin with ambidextrous bilateral gender fluid anti-normative tendencies…we don’t know. What we can only assume though is this human being has most likely had a difficult life and after many years of being put upon by an unjust system, this person is finally lashing out so really, when you really think about it, we all had a role in creating this system so in essence, we are all the Toilet Killer.

(KURT MANLEY stares blankly into the camera.)

KURT MANLEY: Holy shit. Are you two really considered the best and brightest of your respective political parties?

SENATOR BATZENGANT: Yes Kurt.

SENATOR WANNADINGLE: You know it.

(Kurt sighs and looks at a different camera.)

KURT MANLEY: Well, there you have it, folks. A Toilet Killer is on the loose and the country’s leaders have officially flushed their brains down the toilet. Don’t touch that dial and stay off the toilet as we’ll be bringing you the latest updates on America’s Shitting Nightmare. Coming up in the next hour, is there a cookie that can make you go blind? We’ll tell you which cookies to remove from your cookie jar after sports and weather but first, these commercial messages.

ANNOUNCER: Network News One. The Hottest Blonde Chick Reporters. The biggest titties. Oh yeah, and occasionally we report the news and shit.

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