When Duty Calls: Overwatch Toilet Stories

Standoff (Cole/McCree)

Cole wiped the sweat from his brow as he sped past a sign on the side of the road with the words "Rest stop: 3 mi" written in white font. He had no idea where he was; he'd taken the first exit he could off the highway, nearly totaling his motorcycle in the process. His stomach pulsed with anger as he exhaled deeply. The 3 miles felt like an eternity.

Cole pulled into the parking lot of the rest stop. A man stood outside the entrance, leaned up against the wall while smoking a cigarette. Cole parked his motorcycle and stepped off, passing the man on his way into the building. The man spoke, his voice stopping Cole in his tracks.

"That's a mighty fine ride you got there," the man said. Cole turned his head. "Thanks," he responded. "I've been lookin' for a beauty like that for some time. Never could find one. Always seemed to come across cheap knockoffs instead."

"Tough breaks," Cole said. "I'm sure you'll get lucky one of these days."

"Ah, maybe. Hey, you ever though about sellin' it? I'm sure this baby would make you a fortune."

"Nah, she's all mine. Could never part ways with 'er."

"Hm. Shame" The man blew smoke from his cigarette as he shifted his weight.

Cole could tell he wanted to offer for his motorcycle, but he didn't plan on budging. The entire conversation was a waste of his time; he came here for one thing, and it certainly wasn't to make a deal with some mysterious stranger. "If you'll excuse me now, I'll be on my way." The man said nothing as Cole walked through the door of the rest stop. The main lobby was lined with benches and vending machines, with the entrance to the bathrooms at the back.

The bathroom had one small stall, with a urinal and a sink right outside. It smelled of cheap air freshener and previous bathroom visits. Cole went straight for the stall, wasting no time to get in and lock the door. Like magma flowing from a volcano, Cole's bowels erupted, releasing the pent up load he'd been holding for some time now. It came out smooth like soft-serve, but thick like a snake, slithering down into the bowl with a satisfying plop. He grunted with pleasure as each one hit the water.

Suddenly, the bathroom door opened and the sound of boots tapped against the tile floor. They echoed closer and closer to his stall until they were standing right outside. "This one's mine." Cole said to the stranger. Boom! The lock to his stall snapped and the stall door was flung open; it was the man with the cigarette from outside. He held a small handgun in between his fingers, the barrel dripping with smoke.

Cole's first instinct was to stand, but his stomach trembled at the thought, sending a shock of discomfort throughout his body. He clenched his face and sat back down.

"Seems you're a little preoccupied there, aren't you fella?"

"What kind of man are ya? Don't even have the decency to wait 'til I'm plop mph- done. "

"And what kind of man are you? Don't even have the decency to courtesy flush."

"Well pardon me! brrrpt Mmph, now, would you like to tell me what the hell is going on right now? ah- bloop"

"You see this gun I got here? I don't wanna have to use it on ya. But, I will if I must. All you have to do for me is one simple request."

"And that request is?"

"Empty your pockets."

Cole sunk his hands into his pockets and scraped them clean of whatever they contained: his wallet, crumbled up receipts, spare change, and most importantly, the keys to his motorcycle. All of the other items dropped to the floor as he threw them, but the keys stayed wrapped tightly between his fingers.

"I've got no interest in the rest of your junk here. I'm here for the keys."

"Like hell you'll take my keys- mph sploosh"

The man raised the gun from his thigh up to his waist. "Oooh, so we playing this the hard way I see." He stepped closer to Cole, entering his stall and standing over him. "Are ya sure you wanna play this game?" Cole didn't respond, a nasty snarl upon his face. The man stared back. Silence filled the room.

Suddenly, a fist to the chest sent the man tumbling backwards and out of Cole's stall. The man hunched over in pain, clutching his hands closely to his body. The handgun bounced against the floor, sliding across the room. Cole quickly stood up, temporarily fastening his pants as he picked the weakened man up by his collar and dragged him into the stall. "Well partner, looks like I won this round." He grabbed the man by his hair and plunged his head beneath the toilet water. The man squirmed with panic, desperately clawing at the walls and swinging his legs for freedom.

He was only lifted once his struggles for air became weakened. The man rose above the toilet water, desperately gasping for air. Streaks of brown covered his hair and face as he dripped. Cole threw him towards the wall, leaving him there with his eyes widened. The man stared mindlessly at the ceiling as Cole finished his business and left the bathroom, making sure he'd taken all his stuff back; along with the man's gun too. He walked out into the sunlight of the afternoon and hopped on his motorcycle, speeding away as a new man.