The Christmas Eve Club

“The sneeze that was turned into victory.” F-Troop Normally, I love the results of spicy chicken day in our cafeteria; however, today I just finished off my fifth delicious chicken patty. My vanity and gluttony undertaking is having an adverse effect on my stomach; it feels like someone has released six propane tanks of gas into my gut. I need to get to the forbidden zone, the cafeteria boys’ bathroom. The mass quantity of processed imitation chicken and spicy fluids is making for a toxic volatile eruption. There is pain and shame in every step I take; pain from the chemistry lab experiment in my belly and shame from the squeaky-squish farting flying out below. The natural gas propulsion popping out of my rear is propelling me forward at a quicker pace. Step-fart, step-fart, step-fart- step. Kids are looking at me as if I am wearing flip-flops, until they take a breath, and nope that is not the sounds of foot wear, this is the sound of decaying death If I can just make it to the porcelain finish bowl, I can relieve the world and my intestines of all this adversity. Crap, what an apropos sigh, I just sighed. Doogs is coming over to congratulate me one more time for my five count victory.......I nod to Doogs, as I “low-tail” it into the bathroom. As I make steady progress on my rush toward my objective...... Phew, just a few more steps and I will quickly sign in at the bathroom log with the greatest bathroom monitor of all time: Mr. Naranjo...... Naranjo commands, “Mr. Palminter, a big rush? You need to sign the book. Palminter, will you be logging in or “logging out? If you’re logging out, sign the book now.’ I quickly sign the log and I make a mad dash for an open stall. I can hear Mr. Naranjo call out, “Palminter, mention my name and you are sure to get a good seat!” Score, no one is in any of the stalls or by the urinals. An empty bathroom to do my doo-doo. This is a “Dookie Delight”, a private moment alone with the toilet is one of my favorite small pleasures here on earth. No sitting on the “Bowl of Self-Conscienciness” today! The job is done efficiently and promptly. However, there is a reeking, ranking, noxious stench permeating within my stall! It will be a matter of seconds before the whole room will be enveloped in this repulsive ick! I finish up quickly to leave the scene of the crime before any of my classmates are the wiser and I bend down to flush; whack the door separating the toilets from the lunchroom slams open. I jump forward in deathly fright as my I-Phone ten comes flying out like a bazooka blasts from my breast pocket and it ping-pongs off the back end of the toilet, skips off the back wall, please god, give it some distance, give it some distance! Oh baby, it skips off the rim again and careens down behind the bowl and smashes down right behind the back of my smelly filled thrown. Oh crap my I-Phone just had a near death experience with the hole of unwanted doom! Ok behind the bowl is icky, but it could have been far worse. ......... Footsteps come charging into the room. They must have to go worse than I. Suddenly; sheiks of leather soled shoes abruptly come to a hasty halt on the sticky tile floor. A massive collective groan rings out in unison as my commode companions get their first snout full of the remains of five delicious spicy chicken sandwiches. How can something so pure and good cause so much joy in one moment going in and so much disgust going out? I’ll just quickly reach behind the bowl before I flush and grab my lost phone. Now this is a sight I don’t want to see ever again. I bend over the bowl haphazardly to reach my thousands of songs and selfie photos, and AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!! AHHH HHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! MY TIE Lands On and gets dragged across the brown, mound that I had yet to flush down. There are no words that I can formulate that can express my true feeling of having thel feces smushed into my tie. Sweat pours out from beneath my arms, form my forehead and down my neck. Think, think, think Piglet…think…Holding the evil fashion statement as far away from my body as possible, I try to gingerly remove my horrific tie! Those thousands of hours of playing the game of “Operation” begins to pay dividends. “Remove Crap Crusted Knot” I hope I don’t set the buzzer off. Gently, ever so gently I begin to unravel my expert Winsor knot. ..... I just tug and grab, however, I now creep and pick the cloth apart ever so meticulously....... I got to get rid of this stink bomb of fabric. Over, under, back around, there, all clear. I delicately place the uncontaminated fibers over the vile fibers to protect my clean hands. I now have all of the nasty stuff covered in a cloth shield. This mighty fortification is not strong enough to hold back the disgusting odor that relentlessly oozes out of the fibers and into my nauseated nostrils. I must destroy this satanic accessory that is clutched in my perspiring paw. I carefully rest the crumpled crap-tie on the toilet paper dispenser to quickly finish up the business of sanitizing myself...... “Scooby you’re going to get your assed kicked!”, Lito screams as he, Oak Tree, Phil and Ogdan rush me with their fists clenched to do me some powerful harm. Undauntedly my first and only concern is to dispose of this stink infested burble. I will deal with the physical threats, next. Simplify, simplify, simplify, what can be more basic and natural than chuck that poop , chuck the poop, it is just that simple of a goal, sometimes life is no more complicated than “chuck-that-poop”.