Board Thread:Writer's Workshop/@comment-28266772-20160812170723

A/N Couldn't think of a name so I went with this. So I went from killer furniture to killer toilet! I'm in awe that I didn't make the connection between death and pooping sooner...

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David’s greatest accomplishment was that he was good at something. While most people struggled to find what they were great at David had discovered, as a young man, that he was an excellent custodian. He enjoyed working for Explosive Dissentry Inc. [placeholder name]. which was a small, but—by their own admissions—morally ambiguous, company situated in the town of Balls-Plopped-Menacingly-On-The-Table [placeholder name]. And he was regarded by the workers within the building as the resident expert on all things that dripped, plopped, and clanked behind the fluorescently lit, off-white walls.

David also just so happened to have the perfect temperament for this type of job. He was the ideal mix of stoic and suicidal, and on occasion David was known to go above and beyond the call of duty. Just one example of his tendency to do more than what was asked of him would be his solution to the pipe problem that sprang up some time in the summer of 2009. It was on a Monday morning when David had entered the building early to work in peace. He was busy cleaning the floors of the fourth floor toilets when a dishevelled engineer walked in. He was tired, and it was not uncommon for the researchers to stay overnight, so David just waved politely and the man waved back. David continued cleaning up when he suddenly heard a tremendous and furious noise comparable to a garbage disposal being fed a 200lb steak.

It lasted only twenty seconds. Which was long enough for David to realize he wasn’t going mad, but too quick for David to overcome his shock and actually do something. It had come and gone with unfathomably vigour. Quite afraid, David stepped away from his bucket and walked across to the cubicle. The little indicator on the door was clearly red, and marked occupied, so he leaned forward and, anxiously, knocked.

“Hello,” he said. “Are you okay?”

All of a sudden there was an audible pop, and David looked down to see the red bar flick to green, indicating the door was unlocked. He pushed it and it swung open with a loud creek, only to reveal a perfectly clean and untouched toilet. Confused David turned around and stared at the long row of toilets lit only by the flickering bulbs. “Hello,” he cried out once more. “Is… is anyone here?” But there was no reply. David remained frozen for a few moments before resuming his day.

And it was a peculiar day indeed. Sinks were broken, the taps spurted brown liquid, many people reported strange and unpleasant noises coming from the walls, and one executive came back from a meeting to discover that her entire office had been flooded with shit. This was a particularly vexing problem for David since she did not have a private bathroom anywhere near her office. Still, he was content to rush from place to place desperately struggling to make people happy while calling for numerous clean up teams.

One person he tried to make happy was Victoria. She was a pretty young woman who worked in human resources and was inclined to occasionally borrow from David either a cigarette or a lighter. She caught him in one corridor as he rushed from room to room and called out to him as he totted past,

“David. David, darling. Can you help me with something?”

“Um, of course,” David smiled, sweating profusely. “What’s wrong?”

“It’s my phone,” Victoria told him. “I did something really stupid and dropped it down the toilet. Only thing is though I didn’t realize until…”

“…until after you flushed it?” David added. Victoria smiled and nodded awkwardly. “Why don’t you show me which one and I’ll sort it out?” David asked. Victoria thanked him and then walked him to the fourth floor’s women’s bathroom. Once there she took him to a stall and popped the door open only to point and say,

“It was this one. God, I feel like such an idiot.”

David took a deep breath and walked towards it. He asked her if anyone else had used it since and she shook her head. “Okay,” he said to her. “Give me a minute and I’ll look and see if I have the right kit on me to take apart the u-bend.”

David then knelt down by his bag, facing away from the stall and Victoria, and began to rummage away between the spanners and wrenches, and of course the company-issued grenade that had been handed out after the water-cooler incident. David paused for a second as his hand rolled over it and remembered the last time he’d been forced to use it, and felt the hairs on the back of his neck rise up. Lost in these thoughts, he was startled to hear,

“Oh, that’s odd,” spoken by Victoria behind him. David, sweating and exhausted merely grunted an acknowledgement and continued to search through his bag when there was a sudden, and horrifically familiar, noise. David’s heart sank and he turned around in time to see Victoria crying, and screaming, with a pink and flushed face clamped between her ankles. She had been folded haphazardly hips-first into the bowl, and as she reached across, writhing in agony with bloodshot eyes that began to bulge, desperately crying for help, David heard her ribs crack from the pressure.

He fumbled upwards and ran towards the toilet only for the door to slam shut with such force that it sent him flying by a few feet. David, relentless in his desperation, struggled back upright as quickly as he could, but as he ran towards the shut door he heard the pop of the lock once more. He stopped dead in his tracks, and anxiously looked down to see it was green. Nervously he gave the door a push, and saw it swing open only to reveal the spotless, and perfectly clean, porcelain bowl of the toilet. For a moment he was inclined to simply think that he had gone mad, but as he shuffled about and leaned against the door to support his shaking legs, he noticed a small plastic hair pin laying on the floor.

<p class="MsoNormal">He picked it up and stared at it for a moment or two when all of a sudden there was another interruption.

<p class="MsoNormal">“David,” screamed his boss, Angela. “Stop sniffing the fucking seats and get out here.” David fumbled around for a moment before pocketing the clip and resuming his day, quite clearly in a state of shock. “David!” Angela barked as soon as he was in sight. “How the fuck are my boys down in R&D meant to do their research when nothing works!”

<p class="MsoNormal">“Uh… I, uh.. I don’t…” David stuttered.

<p class="MsoNormal">“Exactly!” Angela cried. “You don’t know shit, monkey man! That’s why they have to go through me. Go speak to Ryan he’ll tell you what, and where. Now,” she huffed. “I need a shit.” Angela pushed past David smacking him up against the wall and began to walk towards the women’s bathroom.

<p class="MsoNormal">“A...Angela,” David mumbled.

<p class="MsoNormal">“What the fuck is it Dave?” she snapped.

<p class="MsoNormal">“Nothing,” he stuttered.

<p class="MsoNormal">“Inbred peasant,” Angela snarled before entering the bathroom. David promptly picked up his toolkit and began to run towards the elevator. It was not too long before he had been shooed through the complicated security procedures that were demanded from those entering the R&D sub-basement and was met by Ryan, the friendly and occasionally condescending head researcher.

<p class="MsoNormal">“Hi Dave,” Ryan smiled. “It’s through here.” David had no time at all to reply as he was quickly grabbed at the elbows by two colossal men in awfully intimidating hazmat suits. They picked him up and shuffled him towards a large steel door and then placed him down. With perfect coordination they proceeded to step forward and open the vault-like door via the separate wheels on either side. Once the amber lights had stopped flashing and the hazmat-clad men had lightly jogged away, the tremendous slab of steel and lead swung open once more. “It’s in there, Dave,” Ryan said through the intercom. David, surprised, looked up towards the speakers on the ceiling, and then turned to notice that a large plastic sheet had been erected behind and around him, through which he could see at least a dozen researchers glaring with anticipation.

<p class="MsoNormal">“Are you sure it’s still in there?” he heard one of them whisper.

<p class="MsoNormal">“Shut up!” another one cried.

<p class="MsoNormal">David sighed, and walked into the research sub-basement. Immediately the automatic lights began to clank on one by one revealing the huge underground area that housed all of the company’s secrets. The first thing he noticed was that a fork lift had been tipped to one side, and the enormous steel crate that it had been ferrying was smashed open upon the ground. Around it lay a large and giblet filled pool of blood.

<p class="MsoNormal">“Don’t worry about that Dave,” the intercom buzzed. “It’s uh… it’s uh… it’s part of our food initiative! Soup… believe it or not.” David looked down at the puddle of viscous matter and curiously recoiled as he noticed a single eyeball float towards the top. Groaning with disgust he stepped away and looked around at the speakers which addressed him and shouted,

<p class="MsoNormal">“What am I doing?”

<p class="MsoNormal">“Just keep walking. You’ll find it,” the ceiling buzzed.

<p class="MsoNormal">David rolled his eyes and kept walking through the building. During this time, he took the liberty to poke and prod at the large array of strange and wonderful machines. There were glowing things, buzzing things, and floating things as well. Some of them were labelled with relatively mundane names such as “Remote Binocular Enucleator”, or “Balloon-Wine”, while others were a tad more idiosyncratic. David took particular umbrage with what, initially, appeared to be a baseball bat covered in thick glowing cables that gave off an audible hiss, but which bore the name “Marital Aid”. David could only attribute such an invention to the loneliness of the R&D workers, so he continued looking until he final came around one particular shelf. There he noticed another large steel crate that was identical to the one which lay torn asunder near the entrance. David walked over to it and read the label on the side.

<p class="MsoNormal">“Dimension 189613,” he said aloud. “Cirripedia Ixodidae. Aka the Lamprey Spider – extremely dangerous. Do not expose to water… What on Earth-” David muttered.

<p class="MsoNormal">“Wait!” the intercom buzzed. “What are you looking at? Don’t… no no.”

<p class="MsoNormal">“Hey guys,” he shouted back. “Come on, there’s nothing here. What do you want?”

<p class="MsoNormal">“Just keep looking!” the intercom cried. “But don’t… don’t read anything.”

<p class="MsoNormal">“Fuck this,” David shrugged and began to walk back out of the warehouse. As he approached the toppled forklift, and the massive bungled crate he saw that the viscous puddle of blood and gore lay along a familiar crease in the floor. Curious, he walked over to a nearby wall and picked up a large solid broom which he then used to brush the gore and blood away from the crease. It was sent spattering across the clean and dusty concrete floor only to reveal a smashed and mangled drain below. “Oh, Ryan!” David cried, ready to announce his discovery.

<p class="MsoNormal">“You’re still alive!?” the intercom buzzed. “My God… what is it you’ve found!?” David took a deep breath and looked back towards the large steel door that had been shut, covertly, behind him.

<p class="MsoNormal">“Nothing,” David said. “Didn’t see nothing. Open the door please.” David then had to wait for the amber lights to flash and for the vault door to be opened once more. Immediately Ryan was stood there, shaking with anticipation and fear.

<p class="MsoNormal">“You saw nothing?” Ryan cried. “Seriously? N…not that we would put you in any danger Dave.” David shook his head and watched as the dozen scientists from behind the plastic screen began to whisper furiously and grow agitated. Ryan bit his finger and stared off into the distance. “What will Angela say,” he muttered to himself.

<p class="MsoNormal">“Can I go now?” David asked. Ryan was distracted, and quite clearly afraid. “Can I go?” David repeated. Ryan glanced up and nodded.

<p class="MsoNormal">“Yes,” he said. “Y…yes. Just um… shit. If Angela asks tell her you didn’t find me, okay?”

<p class="MsoNormal">“Okay,” David nodded.

<p class="MsoNormal">“Oh and David,” Ryan asked in a whisper. “Where would be a good place to hide… from Angela?” David paused for a moment before answering,

<p class="MsoNormal">“Bathroom stall.”

<p class="MsoNormal">“Oh thank you so much Dave,” Ryan said, slapping David against the arm. “Oh thank you thank you thank you!”

<p class="MsoNormal">David then smiled and left the quarantine. As he approached the elevator he thought for a moment about the young Victoria and could not help but wince with regret. The company had frequently been compared to a meat grinder, but he still struggled to just accept her disappearance. Before he had the chance to press the button so that he might resume his thankless job he stopped the elevator doors, and proceeded to find Ryan who could be heard blubbering in the toilets.

<p class="MsoNormal">Before David called out to him he proceeded to open his tool kit and removed from it the small hand grenade.

<p class="MsoNormal">“Ryan,” David called out. “Do you hear anything?”

<p class="MsoNormal">“No, no,” Ryan stuttered. “Why? Have you!? Has Angela been asking about me?”

<p class="MsoNormal">“No,” David answered.

<p class="MsoNormal">“Then why the fuck are you here Dave?” Ryan hissed. “You’re going to give me away. Please just leave me be… wait. Oh… what’s that? That’s strange-”

<p class="MsoNormal">“Ah shit,” David cried before kicking the door open. Ryan was not as fortunate as Victoria who had experienced a, relatively speaking, comfier fold along the waist. David could hear Ryan struggle to breath and scream from below the toilet water while his back and arse poked awkwardly up from out the bowl. David knew he didn’t have long so he quickly pulled the pin on the grenade, and slipped it into the waist band of Ryan’s trousers.

<p class="MsoNormal">“What’s that?!” Ryan bubbled from below, while David leapt haphazardly from the stall. Once again the door slammed shut and was locked from within, and David could hear the snapping of Ryan’s spine as he was sucked into the building’s pipes. For a moment things were tremendously quiet until, suddenly, there was a muted thump from some location far beneath the floor. David continued to wait quietly, and after fifteen minutes he grew certain that there would be no clicking of the lock from the other side.

<p class="MsoNormal">David forced the door open only to reveal a blood spattered mess of brains, viscera, and sausage-link intestines strewn across the walls and toilet. He looked down the bowl and saw a brown, muddy mess of arthropod legs not too dissimilar to what happens when you stamp on a fat spider, although he was positive there was more of the thing tucked away elsewhere. David chalked that job up to Tuesday as he heard the alarm go off, signalling the end of the day. Tired, and relieved, David left to go home.

<p class="MsoNormal">“Long day?” his wife asked when he entered the house.

<p class="MsoNormal">“Nah,” he replied. “Kinda quiet actually.”

<p class="MsoNormal">“Better than last Monday?” she asked.

<p class="MsoNormal">“Aye,” he answered. “Although I had to use my grenade again so that’s another deduction from this month’s cheque.”

<p class="MsoNormal">“Oh that’s a shame,” his wife cooed.

<p class="MsoNormal">“At least there weren’t any fucking snakes this time,” David cried as he sat down on his sofa, turned on the television, and thumbed the hair clip he had kept with him all day.

<p class="MsoNormal"> <ac_metadata title="Lamprey Spider"> </ac_metadata>