Ducky Park
"Sure," You respond. "I'll help you."
He nods his head and thanks you before leading you away from the group. You follow him through the city of dumpsters back to the gate which leads you to the picnic area. You walk with him through the tables and into the park itself.
After a short walk he stops at one of the restroom areas and takes a key-laden key chain from his belt. He opens the door between the restrooms and steps inside. You've always wondered what was in that room. Peering inside you are disappointed to see a bunch of cleaning supplies, somehow you always assumed there were much cooler things to be found within that room.
He comes back out a few moments later with a bucket and a mop, a plunger and two pair of rubber gloves. "Here," He says, handing you the mop and bucket. "Let's go take a look at it and see how bad it is."
He walks to the ladies room door and knocks. "Maintenance! Is anyone in there?!" He waits a few seconds for a reply that never comes before pushing open the door and stepping inside. You follow closely behind.
Within is the most putrid and offensive odor you have ever smelled; a mix of rancid shit from an unwashed ass and a few other things that you cannot even begin to describe. You almost vomit right there.
Vince steps into the last stall and backs up covering his mouth and gagging. "There it is," he says to you. "Give me the mop, I'll clean the mess on the floor and you can take care of the commode."
"I don't want to plunge the toilet," You protest.
"I know," He replies, "Neither do I. There would be something really wrong with us if either of us wanted to unclog that shit, but alas, it is our job. And since I have seniority, I call the mop."
He slaps your hands with the gloves and the plunger. "Here," He says. "Put those on and get to work."
You mutter curses under your breath, but comply none the less, pulling the gloves on over your hands and stepping cautiously towards the stall. The smell in the stall is amplified tenfold and you peer into the bowl with much apprehension. It is packed with fecal matter up to the rim, the shit dissolved so thoroughly by the water that it has taken on a foam-like quality. Sitting atop the mass of digestive waste is a bloody tube of cotton with a string hanging out.
You back out of the stall to find Vince looking at you with a mop in hand. "What the hell am I supposed to do with this thing?" You ask.
"Plunge the toilet," He tells you.
You stare at him in disbelief for a few moments before stepping back into the stall. You set the plunger down into the fecal filth and gag on the fumes that waft up from disturbing the shit-foam surface. With considerable effort, you plunge the rubber end of the tool into the depths of the disgusting shit filled commode and begin pumping and plunging at it.
It becomes clear quite fast that this will not be a job that is finished by some minor deign of effort. After some hard work you are able to get it to drain halfway before stopping up again. You resume your plunging efforts in a vigorous fury as shards of shit fly up to splash your shirt, hat, arms, and face. At long last the toilet is unclogged and you smile in revelry at your accomplishment.
You step out of the stall, but Vince is nowhere to be seen. You step out of the bathroom in search of him and find him leaned against the wall and smoking a cigarette. "I did it, Vince. I got the crap out of the toilet."
He takes one look at you and drops the cigarette to the ground. "What the hell did you do, eat it?! Did you dive in or something?! Goddam, you're a disgusting bastard!"
"You can mop it up now," You tell him.
A mother and her daughter stop before the restroom and look at you in disbelief. They stare at you with mouths agape for a few moments before speaking.
The little girl looks up at her mother. "I'm scared," She says.
"I know honey," She says. "Come on, there are other bathrooms without sickos like this in them."
As the woman walks away with her daughter, the little girl asks her mother a question; "Is that the same stupid from the front gate today?"
"I think so," her mother replies.
You turn back to talk to Vince, but he has apparently disappeared completely. You call for him in the ladies room and the men’s room, but he is nowhere to be found. A few moments later the enormous form of George, the guy who assigned you to this division, appears. He does not look pleased.
"You're fired." He says to you.
"But-" You begin to protest.
"I don't want to hear it," He interrupts. "I don't care who you are related to, no employee of mine is going to eat poop. That's just disgusting."
"But-" You begin to protest again.
"Get out of here before I call for security." He demands.
Rejected, you walk away from him and make your way out of the park. Everyone stares at you with apprehension as you pass them by. The walk home is a long and smelly one and when you arrive at the door your father greets you with hostility.
"Go in through the basement and take a shower!" He tells you. You shower quickly and go upstairs at the call of your father.
"You know better than to eat shit! What the hell is wrong with you?!" He pulls out his belt and cracks it against your backside as he rants. "Don't eat poop, you stupid son of a bitch! Don’t eat poop!"
Your ass is sore for weeks from the beating. If that weren’t bad enough, everywhere you go now people recognize you as "the guy who ate poop at Ducky Park."
Life just isn't fair.
He nods his head and thanks you before leading you away from the group. You follow him through the city of dumpsters back to the gate which leads you to the picnic area. You walk with him through the tables and into the park itself.
After a short walk he stops at one of the restroom areas and takes a key-laden key chain from his belt. He opens the door between the restrooms and steps inside. You've always wondered what was in that room. Peering inside you are disappointed to see a bunch of cleaning supplies, somehow you always assumed there were much cooler things to be found within that room.
He comes back out a few moments later with a bucket and a mop, a plunger and two pair of rubber gloves. "Here," He says, handing you the mop and bucket. "Let's go take a look at it and see how bad it is."
He walks to the ladies room door and knocks. "Maintenance! Is anyone in there?!" He waits a few seconds for a reply that never comes before pushing open the door and stepping inside. You follow closely behind.
Within is the most putrid and offensive odor you have ever smelled; a mix of rancid shit from an unwashed ass and a few other things that you cannot even begin to describe. You almost vomit right there.
Vince steps into the last stall and backs up covering his mouth and gagging. "There it is," he says to you. "Give me the mop, I'll clean the mess on the floor and you can take care of the commode."
"I don't want to plunge the toilet," You protest.
"I know," He replies, "Neither do I. There would be something really wrong with us if either of us wanted to unclog that shit, but alas, it is our job. And since I have seniority, I call the mop."
He slaps your hands with the gloves and the plunger. "Here," He says. "Put those on and get to work."
You mutter curses under your breath, but comply none the less, pulling the gloves on over your hands and stepping cautiously towards the stall. The smell in the stall is amplified tenfold and you peer into the bowl with much apprehension. It is packed with fecal matter up to the rim, the shit dissolved so thoroughly by the water that it has taken on a foam-like quality. Sitting atop the mass of digestive waste is a bloody tube of cotton with a string hanging out.
You back out of the stall to find Vince looking at you with a mop in hand. "What the hell am I supposed to do with this thing?" You ask.
"Plunge the toilet," He tells you.
You stare at him in disbelief for a few moments before stepping back into the stall. You set the plunger down into the fecal filth and gag on the fumes that waft up from disturbing the shit-foam surface. With considerable effort, you plunge the rubber end of the tool into the depths of the disgusting shit filled commode and begin pumping and plunging at it.
It becomes clear quite fast that this will not be a job that is finished by some minor deign of effort. After some hard work you are able to get it to drain halfway before stopping up again. You resume your plunging efforts in a vigorous fury as shards of shit fly up to splash your shirt, hat, arms, and face. At long last the toilet is unclogged and you smile in revelry at your accomplishment.
You step out of the stall, but Vince is nowhere to be seen. You step out of the bathroom in search of him and find him leaned against the wall and smoking a cigarette. "I did it, Vince. I got the crap out of the toilet."
He takes one look at you and drops the cigarette to the ground. "What the hell did you do, eat it?! Did you dive in or something?! Goddam, you're a disgusting bastard!"
"You can mop it up now," You tell him.
A mother and her daughter stop before the restroom and look at you in disbelief. They stare at you with mouths agape for a few moments before speaking.
The little girl looks up at her mother. "I'm scared," She says.
"I know honey," She says. "Come on, there are other bathrooms without sickos like this in them."
As the woman walks away with her daughter, the little girl asks her mother a question; "Is that the same stupid from the front gate today?"
"I think so," her mother replies.
You turn back to talk to Vince, but he has apparently disappeared completely. You call for him in the ladies room and the men’s room, but he is nowhere to be found. A few moments later the enormous form of George, the guy who assigned you to this division, appears. He does not look pleased.
"You're fired." He says to you.
"But-" You begin to protest.
"I don't want to hear it," He interrupts. "I don't care who you are related to, no employee of mine is going to eat poop. That's just disgusting."
"But-" You begin to protest again.
"Get out of here before I call for security." He demands.
Rejected, you walk away from him and make your way out of the park. Everyone stares at you with apprehension as you pass them by. The walk home is a long and smelly one and when you arrive at the door your father greets you with hostility.
"Go in through the basement and take a shower!" He tells you. You shower quickly and go upstairs at the call of your father.
"You know better than to eat shit! What the hell is wrong with you?!" He pulls out his belt and cracks it against your backside as he rants. "Don't eat poop, you stupid son of a bitch! Don’t eat poop!"
Your ass is sore for weeks from the beating. If that weren’t bad enough, everywhere you go now people recognize you as "the guy who ate poop at Ducky Park."
Life just isn't fair.
