The Bad Boys' Soft Boys' Lonely Hearts Club - The Full Package

The Bad Boy From Under The Stall ~ Part 2

"So, what would it be, my droogie? Messel a eegra with an starry pal from under the stall?" says the man with a voice more befitting of a court jester than a highschool student. Must be a theater kid. Those are always up to weird shit.

"I have no idea what the hell are you talking about," I say. My bunghole is itching in anticipation of being cleaned. Are you entertained yet, dear reader? We offer nothing but top quality content for you. "Look, if you have paper, can you not be a dick and just give me some?"

The man on the stall next door gave me some lame-ass anime laugh, something like "fufufu" or some weeb shit, confirming that he is, in fact, a theater kid. The worst kind of kids. The bad boy in me wants to give him a wedgie and dunk his head in the toilet. But something inside me also thinks this will give him a boner. Again, theater kids are weird.

"Could I? Yes, yes I could. But, my appy-polly loggies if I'm wrong, and I'm hardly wrong, but wouldn't it be more fun to have a malenky wager instead? a bitva of wits, all or nothing, for the paper of arse wiping?"

"I speako no weirdo," I say. "If you wanna talk to me, speak like a normal, God fearing person. And hurry up. My shit is getting dry and I don't wanna moist some cheap single-ply toilet paper to improvise a wet wipe." Seriously, gonna ask Brayden to cut me some of his premium tp stash. I know his family has some of that mythical 5-ply paper. Feels like cleaning your ass with a pillow.

"My droogie, I assure you that I'm not baddiwad in me gulliver. What I'm trying to skazat is, I, too, have but malenky precious vaysay paper. Not enough to share, at least!" says the man, followed by another weird bout of laughter.

Okay, so he doesn't have much toilet paper either. Fine, guess I'll use one of my cotton socks. Not the first time I use a sock to clean up some body fluid.

I'm talking about blood. Get your head out of the gutter.

Just as I'm about to take off my sock and give you all a sweet feet shot, the boy pipes up, gesturing wildly from under the stall. "Do not waste you precious platties, my droogie. There is no need for that. If you want my paper, we can filly for it. A good ol' bit of gambling, if you will."

"I prefer to use my sock, thanks," I say. If you can take anything from this chapter, is that you should never trust people that have a @yahoo mail account, only add mustard to their hotdogs, or are/were theater kids. They are all trying to deceive you and will destroy you and anything you stand for.

"It's a simple game, really," says the boy, followed by another sinister laugh that is anything but simple. His hands disappear for a second, only to reappear a few seconds with what looks like a dagger. Upon closer inspection, I can safely say it is, indeed, a dagger. A stiletto, to be precise. What the shit? I know this is a public school but damn. You can't even shit in peace without being mugged around here. On the plus side, if you are terrified shitless of knives, as I am, the best place to be said terrified shitless is while sitting in a toilet. Fucking theater kids and their flamboyant murder weapons.

"Dude, what the fuck? Get that shit away from me!"

His other hand appears, this time holding a clump of single-ply paper, barely enough to clean 1 and ½ asscheek. He wasn't lying when he said there wasn't enough. "The eegra is simple, really. I have, in my rooker, all the toilet paper in the cantora. With my nosh, World-render, we shall take turns stabbing at the ball of toilet paper. We are only allowed to take as many sheets of paper as we stab. You can be cautious and only stab odin or dva sheets, or go buckwild and try to stab them all! do, however, be careful not to go all the way... and stab the rooker beneath!"

He plunges down the stiletto in one fell swoop, penetrating three sheets of toilet paper. Nowhere near his hand, but definitely not enough paper to clean up. Really, tp is made of rice paper and a can-do attitude, because it dissolves with only the oil of your palms.