Why Are You Putting My Good Hand Towel In The Toilet? (Peter PO

  • Why Are You Putting My Hand Towel in the Toilet?! (Peter POV)

    I walked into the bathroom because as usual, I had to pee. I probably had to poop, too, but I wasn't sure. My bowels and I have a strained relationship. But that's not the worst thing that was happening in my life right now. Xara, my housekeeper from Hell, was using my GOOD hand towel to clean my toilet? What the fuck?

    "Why the fuck are you using my good hand towel to clean my fucking toilet?" I asked her.

    "Well, your toilet brush is falling apart. The bristles fall off the brush if I so much as LOOK at the damn thing!" she yelled at me. That woman was always yelling at me.

    "I have a Donald Trump toilet brush you can use!" I yelled back.

    "Yeah, dude. It's hanging from your ceiling! I am not about to go on a ladder and fetch it! Get the fuck out of here, Peter," she said.

    "Well, you don't need to fucking use my good hand towel either!" I screamed.

    "Hey. At least I'm not using my tongue," she said. What the fuck? Why does she always say weird shit to me like that? Come on.

    "I WASN'T expecting you to!!!!" I yelled incrediously. "Fuck. I mean, you can use one of your cleaning rags or a cleaning brush. Why the fuck do you need to use my. good. hand. towel?"

    "Your cleaning rags are all used because some asshole hasn't done the laundry in a couple of weeks. And your cleaning brush is losing bristles like you're losing brain cells," she answered. This bitch was obsessed with IQs and losing brain cells, I swear.

    "Have you thought about just not fucking touching my toilet?" I asked her.

    She laughed at me as usual. "Yes. But fuck you, I'm going to touch your toilet anyway," she answered.

    "You talk to your boss like that?" I asked.

    "I want to say worse to my tall, awkward, pain in the ass, curly-haired boss from HELL," she said with a smile as she shoved my good hand towel deep in the toilet.

    I made a gritting sound with my teeth and stared at her intently. It was official. I wanted to kill her. But something stopped me. My urge to pee trumped my homicidal desires at the moment. Maybe I had to poop, too.

    "All right. You're done. Get out of my bathroom. I really need to pee," I said. I could feel my bowels moving.

    "Come on, Peter. I just cleaned the toilet. But I have a better idea," she said as she opened her mouth wide. "Why don't you pee outside?"

    I rolled my eyes and then walked over to her. "Xara, you're not serious," I said with a smirk. "Get the fuck out of here. I really gotta gooooooo!!!"

    "But I am. Besides, you're the guy that secretly wants to be a dog," she said with her adorable smile.

    I felt a strong urge to pee. "Xara! Come on. Go on. Get out of here," I whined. I could feel a stream of urine about to exit out of me. Oh piss. Oh shit. Oh fuck.

    All of a sudden, I pushed her out of the way before I opened the window and pulled my pants down. I accidentally peed in front of her and out the window. I looked up at the ceiling and tried to pretend none of this was happening. I couldn't wait to get to the toilet. As awkward as the situation felt, it was about to get worse. I liked how I didn't have to pee anymore, however. Instead, I completely shit myself on the toilet.

    Before I knew it, a stream of explosive diarrhea was streaming out of me like a bullet train. Oh man! My butt was singing bloops, ploops, farts, and squishy noises in high and low notes. I felt my anus give way to the dark feces. I moaned loudly and made "ew" noises.

    I breathed and was relieved that my butt stopped for just a moment. Uh oh. I felt myself have to poop again. Just as I began to wipe myself, a second stream of explosive diarrhea emanated out of me.

    "Oh God!" I screamed. A gush of shit shot out of my ass like gunfire. I moaned so loudly. The ploops even sounded like gunfire. I think I shit all over my right hand.

    I looked over and to my horror, I saw Xara staring at me. I made a "Whoa" noise. I squirmed on the toilet, and more poop came out.

    Xara was laughing her head off as she normally does. Her heart looked like it was going to leap out of her chest. "I'm sorry, Peter. I would have left, but your shitting was the finest performance I've ever seen," she said before laughing again. "I'm not sure whether to be ar-amused or disgusted." She snorted when she laughed.

    I courtesy flushed and was speechless. "You're so crazy," I said as I stared at her incredulously. "Why on Earth did you not escape?"

    "I couldn't. I was mesmerized by you taking an impromptu dump in front of me. I am still in disbelief," she said.

    "Says the crazy bitch who sent me a picture of Donald Trump toilet paper with shit coloring his fakeass toupee. Didn't help that part of your menses was on that toilet paper. Lord have mercy. Jesus," I said.

    She grinned and stuffed the hand towel in her white apron. "Well, that was hilarious, but you taking a dump in front of me was fucking golden. Hahahahaha. And I'm keeping this hand towel. It might have some of your poop on it. I need it for your DNA. I need to make an army of Peters to take over the world," she said.

    "Xara, you're so crazy!" I said before I felt another anal explosion about to erupt out of me like a volcano. "No really. You gotta get out of here."

    "You need to wipe your ass?" she asked.

    "No. It's worse!" I yelled before there was a nuclear explosion out of my butt. An endless stream of diarrhea erupted from my ass and started flooding the bathroom. "TAKE COVER!!!"

    Xara was swimming in my shit before the door exploded and a flood of shit whooshed out of the bathroom and invaded the rest of the house. My poor mother was walking in the hallway, God bless her soul. She looked up at the giant wave of shit that kept coming out of me and into the whole house.

    "My Goodness, Peter, what did you eat?!" my mother asked.

    "EVERYTHING. And I'm sorry. I'll never do it again!" I screamed before my butt exploded again. "Aaaaagggfghhhhhhhhhh!!!"

    Xara was swimming in my shit and laughing. She could barely breathe from the smell and shock of it all. Did she deserve it? Sure why not? Ever since I met her a year and nine months ago, my life has been absolute hell. May she drown in my shit! It is the only justice she deserves. Ha ha.

    My father wheeled out to see what the smell was. "Oh shit," he said as he tried to escape the ever growing shit wave. He now sailed out of the house in my shit. Oh God. The neighbors could probably see the shit sea coming out of my house. I was embarrassed beyond belief. The entire contents of my intestines lay waste in the neighborhood.

    To make matters worse, another bane of my existence, Ted the Alligator, was swimming in my shit and enjoying it.

    "Drain the swamp! Drain the swamp!" he chanted. "Hey Xara. How are you?"

    "Well, I'm confused. I'm not sure how I should feel right now. I'm swimming in my asshole boss's shit, so I am just speechless," she answered before she cried with laughter.

    Ted laughed, too. "Well, it's warm in here," he said as he swam along. "Plenty of food here."

    Xara laughed and kept swimming.

    "What is that smell?!" Xara's client who owned Ted asked. His cane kept hitting my poop pile. "That's awful. Smells like the sewer exploded here. Ted, can we get out of here?"

    No one answered. We were all too embarrassed. I was thankful he was partially blind. I sat on the toilet in the middle of my driveway. The bottom half of me was completely covered in my waste. I just stared at the neighborhood in complete and utter shock. At least I wasn't alone. My mother had a toilet garden, and I was now part of it. I used to hate that toilet garden more than life itself, but because I'm Peter W. Parker, the drywall finisher with fuck luck, I was the head piece of the toilet garden. Only me.

    The End

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