In lieu of the fact that I don’t even know what ‘lieu’ means, today’s post, featuring Spawn, Ophelia and Princess, has been postponed due to a serious clean-up operation now taking place. What happened? No one in particular asked. Well sit down and let me tell you the tale of the big Log Monster and how I came to conquer such evil.
For those of a nervous disposition, read no further. You have been warned!! Seriously, I’m not kidding. I’m not going to tell you again. You still reading? Look, don’t blame me if you feel ill afterward. I mean it’s up there in big red letters that you’ve been warned. Fine, have it your way.
The Defeat Of The Big Log Monster.
It all started on a day much like today. A day in which the clouds hung pregnant with a portent of foreboding. Chilling the air with their ominous and heavy presence, they spewed forth their ice cold expectancy upon a world that…oh wait…that was last Thursday, I do apologise. Anyway, It all begun on a day that wasn’t like last Thursday. I was busy with the unenviable task of being a mother. The colossal burden of having to rise from the comfort of my sofa to go into the kitchen, make myself a cup of tea and then rush back before the closing credits of Jeremy Kyle had began, weighed heavily upon my feeble mind. As I faced the daunting prospect of missing the last 5 minutes of ‘I had sex with at least 12 men in a hour, but I’m pretty sure that you are the father…he has your eyes.’ I became acutely aware that the little man appeared to be going through some kind of crisis in the bathroom. It wasn’t until I heard his cries of,” OH MY GOD, IT’S ALIVE!!” That I decided to venture forthwith and investigate the cause of his melodramatics.
On entering the bathroom, I was met with the sight of Spawn’s head practically shoved down the toilet bowel. My first instinct was to shove it down further and then press the flush button but then common sense prevailed at the very last moment. (Damn you common sense!)
Stepping forward hesitantly and afraid that I might see that the bowl had become obstructed by the carcass of a dead cat or the remains of a severed human head, (remember, he is evil after all) I looked carefully over the rim to see a sight that almost had my eyes popping out of their sockets. For there before me, was the biggest and longest poo that I had ever seen in my life. As I stared at the gargantuan bit of waste product, I couldn’t help but be awed by how such a slim child could have physically pushed out something that looked almost as big as he did.
Looking closely, I remembered Spawn’s’s words from earlier when he had cried out that it was alive. This did indeed appear to be true, for I had a slight feeling that it was somehow mocking me from within it’s porcelain abode.
Too late, I had already commenced flushing and there we both stood, with looks of absolute horror and disgust etched upon our faces as the waste matter slowly rose to the top…and stayed there. A massive brown log, floating on top of a sea of water, pillowed by a lilo of toilet paper.
OK, OK, easy solution. When the water subsides a little, we’ll just do what my mum would have done. (I have two brothers and a step-dad, so I’m guessing this was a regular occurrence for her) We will simply get a bucket of water and pour it into the bowl, the pressure of the added water will weigh it down and make it easier to flush away…It didn’t. What happened instead was that the log reached right to the very top of the toilet rim, almost spilling to the floor. As it rose, we both screamed and didn’t stop until the water once again subsided, which took about 10 minutes. And so with very sore throats, we sought new solutions only to discount one idea after the other. Finally…
“What?! Have you taken leave of your senses woman?! You can’t go in there, it’s far too dangerous! I have heard tales mother. Tales of men who have been trained specifically for a task such as this. Brave men, men with fortitude and courage. Men who have stared into the bowels of hell itself and lived to tell their story. Let us just call the plumber mater, It is the only way.”
“GODDAMMIT SPAWN! I AM THINKING ABOUT YOU! I’M THINKING ABOUT YOU AND ALL THOSE WHOSE LIVES HAVE BEEN BLIGHTED BY BLOCKED TOILETS EVERYWHERE! I’M THINKING ABOUT THOSE WHO HAVE BEEN DEFEATED AND THWARTED AT EVERY TURN BY THE BIG LOG MONSTER! I CANNOT LET THIS CONTINUE. I WON’T LET THIS CONTINUE. I WILL NO LONGER BE A VICTIM TO OVERFLOW!”
And down I went, deep into the slippery, dank, fetid bowl in order to do battle with the log monster. And what a monumental battle it was. Not only would it not break up into pieces, for it’s will was too strong and all it could think of was survival. It also kept evading the bristles of the brush like some poo version of the Silver Surfer. I attempted to make a stabbing motion with the brush all the while shouting, “DIE, DIE! WHY WONT YOU DIE DAMMIT?” Before falling on my knees in frustration, the log monster continuing to mock me from it’s shallow fortress. And that’s when Spawn bravely stepped forward.
And with those fine words of encouragement, I gave the log monster one more push, holding it under the water while the little man flushed. And just as quickly as it had appeared, It was gone. We had triumphed. The log monster was no more.
And that, my dear friends, is the story of how I came to conquer the big Log Monster. Bet you wished you hadn’t continued to read on, don’t you? Well you were warned.