Imagine being the first one to use a fresh porta potty. No smell, other than that blue chemical water down at the bottom. It’s so damn clean.

“Great!” you exclaim with excitement. So you sit down on that smooth dry toilet seat and, relaxing, a tremendous donker just falls right out of you.

The mass is too great. The distance. The speed and acceleration. It isn’t even a second of time, but you know. You know.

GaTHUNK

A cold blue kiss races towards the moon. A moon so relaxed the single crater yawns beckoningly wide. The kiss forms into a dull spear, racing towards the darkened maw. It enters beyond the shadow. Fully into the heavenly body. Cold meets heat.

You yelp in shock. There is cold artificially blue water deep in your butthole. The sudden tension passes and as your muscles relax again, some of that cold drains back down to earth. A light shower.

You were looking forward to this festival all year and you spend the entire time distractedly thinking in shame about how something so fortuitous turned to disaster in moments. You didn’t bring a change of underwear. Why would you?