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Sam's Trip
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1992-09-02
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@"SAM'S TERRIFYING TRIP TO THE TOILET"
# By Andrew Campbell 1993
Sam nervously raised his hand in the air.
Miss Cookson stopped mid-sentence. "What is it Samuel Peters?"
The entire class of thirty mixed ten-year-olds suddenly whooshed
around in their seats and glared accusingly at Sam, whose face was
quickly reddening with embarassment.
He slowly drooped his arm down, then bowed his head like a sinning
puppy.
"Pardon me miss, but I need to go to the bathroom." he said softly.
There was an annoying pause during which several kids giggled.
Sam glanced at Susie Wentworth, the blonde girl with the Incredible
Legs who had, for some reason, chosen to sit beside him today. She was
grinning at him like a Cheshire Cat.
Hey, if he could impress Susie Wentworth, he could do ANYTHING.
"Alright Sammy," said Miss Cookson. "You are excused."
Sam leaped from his desk, taking the effort to glance at Susie again.
Her smile had developed into a cute grin and Sam abruptly decided that
his already enormous crush on her had increased to epic proportions.
Miss Cookson didn't resume teaching until Sam had tiptoed out of the
room and closed the door. Then, her muffled voice droned on about
"vowels" and various other unexciting complexities that Sam knew he
could quite easily do without.
He turned from the classroom door and began to skip down the chilly
corridors towards the boy's toilets, raking his fingers along the walls
and radiators as he progressed.
Exactly fifty three footsteps later, he spotted the shape of the man
above the blue door to the bathroom... and giggled feverishly.
With a permanent black marker-pen, someone had drawn a massive penis
(complete with hairs) on the symbol between the man's legs. Sam beamed
at the amusing piece of art and collided heavily with the door. He
banged his head and bruised his shoulder.
Startled, he tried again.
It was locked.
"Oh, come on!" he wailed and clutched his pants desperately.
He kicked the door hard and then punched it. It rattled furiously in
it's frame and the noise echoed down the corridor, but his situation
didn't change: he was still bursting for a pee and the bog was locked.
Then out of the corner of his right eye, Sam saw an another little
black figure, identical in every way to the one above the door to the
boys toilets... except this one was wearing a SKIRT.
Sam chewed his bottom lip thoughtfully.
He couldn't risk it. But then again, he couldn't go back to Miss
Cookson's lesson with out depositing his waste. There was at least a
whole HOUR to go before Home Time and he just couldn't hold on that
long.
Conspiciously swinging his head left and right, Sam sneaked across to
the identically painted door of the girl's toilets and paused, staring
at the symbol above his head.
Then he opened the door and stepped inside.
It was pleasantly cool and there was a weak aroma of chlorine hanging
pungently in the air. The whole room was silent and peaceful; a welcome
relief from the tension of Miss Cookson's class.
It was built in a crude L-shape. The shortest side was decorated with
a row of spotless rectangular mirrors, a line of white sinks and a
paper-towel despenser. Across the longer side was a row of five
cubicles.
The first cubicle's door was closed and locked.
# A girl was inside it.
Treading lightly over the slippery tiles on the floor, Sam moved
along to the fifth door and gently eased it open. He stepped inside
and closed up. There was a lock, thank God. He secured it and sighed
with relief.
His mission was one third complete. Now, he had to release his cargo
as fast and as quietly as possible, then escape from the enemy nest
without being seen.
There was a soft ruffling sound. It was coming from the first toilet.
The occupied one.
Boris Chalmers, one of Sam's best friends, had once told him that
girls peed out of their backsides because they didn't have penises. Sam
found this utterly incredible, but he believed it because BORIS had
said it and Boris knew EVERYTHING.
Sam couldn't help himself. He shakily knelt down onto the cold, damp
floor, momentarily forgetting about his aching bladder, and peered
through the nine-inch gap under the wall of the cubicle. He could see
all the way down through four toilets to the first. There, his
sparkling eyes focused upon two shoes with a pair of frilly pink
knickers flopped between them.
Sam jerked back and placed his hand over his mouth.
The girl reached down to pick her underpants up. Sam closed his eyes,
praying that she wouldn't glance across and see him.
Her knickers had gone when he looked again and her feet were shuffling
around like a pair of stringed puppets. She flushed the toilet and
unfastened the lock, then washed her hands at one of the sinks before
exiting the bathroom.
His confidence restored, Sam scrambled noisily to his feet. He took a
momentary breather and then unzipped his fly.
He started to pee instantly in huge, thick bursts. He aimed carefully
as not to spill any evidence (he wasn't sure whether girl's pee
differed in colour from boy's pee, but he wasn't taking any risks).
Then, he heard a few kids chatting outside over the noise of his
urination, so aimed for the side of the bowl to ease the racket and
listened intensely.
"...school at four o'clock, so...." some woman teacher was saying. It
sounded like the girls' Physical Education teacher, Miss Kendal; the
one with the impossibly huge boobs that bounced like over-filled water-
bombs when she ran.
"...make sure you've all been to the toilet, ladies..."
Sam was so startled, he briefly stopped peeing with shock. Then, he
forced the last bit out in a rush, his heart slamming against his ribs.
The bathroom door opened and an entire flock of laughing and shouting
girls flooded their way inside.
On his third attempt, Sam fastened up his pants.
Knowing he had little time, he lowered the toilet seat, parked his
behind, and bowed his head. He hadn't been to the barbers for a while,
so maybe (just maybe) he could fool them into thinking he was a girl.
He didn't think his chances of escaping the situation were very high,
but he prefered the idea of hiding as opposed to rushing out of the
bathroom with his face the colour of strawberries.
The fourth toilet was argued over and a loud, foul-mouthed girl won
the right to it's possession. Sam heard someone bang on the door of his
cubicle and he jumped with fright.
"Hurry up in there!" a girl shouted.
"We're in a rush, so get out!" another impatient call.
Sam bowed his head down further, closing his eyes and sweating with
tension. He didn't dare look up in case one of them happened to be
peeping under the door, or over the top of the neighbouring cubicle.
Outside, the girls clattered and banged some more.
"Come on... Whatcha doin' in there? Snoggin' with a boy?"
A flutter of hysterical giggles echoed around the room. The first girl
finished and a single cubicle was freed. There was a shuffle of anxious
feet an outburst of loud, screaming chatter, and then the recognisable
clash of another lock being triggered.
"Hurry up ladies!" the teacher called distantly.
"Yes miss!" the girls replied in perfect chorus.
"God what's she doin' in there?" another one hissed outside Sam's
door.
Sam felt his back wash over with hot, itchy sweat. He closed his eyes
tightly and tried to imagine that he was sat watching TV at home on
the couch with a bottle of chilled coke. But no matter how hard he
concentrated, he always ended up chained to a wall in a dark dungeon
with a gang of giggling girls eagerly trying to wrench off his
trousers.
The screaming and the chatter slowly died away as the room became less
crowded, and Sam, his skin itching with sweat, could hardly believe it
when every single girl had gone.
He skidded down onto his knees again and peered under the gap beneath
the wall at the four visible U-bends; no feet. No frilly knickers.
A few taps were dripping and the noise of a recently flushed toilet
had not yet subsided but apart from those unthreatening annoyancies,
the room was completely safe.
Sam breathed out for what seemed to be the first time in ages. He
unlocked the door and swung it open, then peeped his head around the
corner to check if he had missed anyone.
The entire room was empty.
He hurried to the door, then paused for a moment, wondering whether he
should make the effort to wash his hands.
'You never know what you might catch from a girl,' Boris Chalmers had
once cautioned him. 'If you ever touch one Sammy, make sure you wash
your hands as soon as you can. They carry all kindsa weird diseases.'
Well, he'd have to risk it.
He grabbed the handle and pulled. The door didn't open. He yanked,
pushed and twisted at it as hard as he could, but it remained firmly
closed.
# Someone had locked it.
Sam started to get frightened. If he was trapped on his own in the
girls toilets then surely he was bound to catch their contageous
disease.
He tried the door again. Surely no one had locked it at this time of-
A loud, eerie hissing sound broke off his thoughts.
He listened sharply with his head cocked on one side, looking like a
dog that had just heard its name called. The hissing sound was coming
from one of those cubicles - one of those completely EMPTY cubicles.
'They are empty arn't they, Sam?' said Boris inside Sam's head.
'STOP IT!' Sam ordered himself. 'You're just making up monsters. It
happens when you get scared; you make up creatures and things, but
really there is no such thing as the...'
The what? Bog Monster?
"Bog Monster." Sam said softly, wanting to laugh but not quite finding
enough humour in his feeble, whispery voice. He knew that a lot of
people did think such nasties existed down in the sewers and the pipes
and stuff but-
Sam heard the hissing sound again.
It sounded to be coming from cubicle four; a noise rather like that of
hot steam emmiting from the valves of an old railway engine.
# Ssssssshhhhh...
Boris Chalmers suddenly spoke up again:
'Once I was sat on the crapper in the bogs at school and I heard this
really weird hissin' sound. Like a slow fart. You dig? Sssshhhhh, like
that, all slow. I tell ya it sounded like real breathin' and I got the
piggin' hell out of that toilet as fast as I could. When I got home, it
looked like I'd driven a sixteen-wheeler with muddy tires through my
piggin' underpants...'
Boris had been lucky. He'd been in the boys toilets and his escape
route had been clear.
No teacher had secured him inside, preventing his escape.
'Perhaps the Thing locked the door?' Sam wondered fearfully. 'Perhaps
the Bog Monster made the latch fasten. Maybe it's rearing up right now
out of the U-bend in cubicle four...'
What was he to do? Scream and bang on the door and pray that a passing
teacher would hear him? He didn't like the thought of being plucked out
of the girls toilets by his prick, but it was bound to be much less
painful than being eaten alive by the Bog Monster.
He heard the noise again. This time it spoke his name.
# Sssssssaaaaaaaammmmmmmmiiiiieeeeee...
Sobbing with fright, Sam back-stepped towards the door, keeping his
blurry eyes on the corner of the first cubicle.
Oh God; he had no where to run.
The hissing sound repeated itself. This time it was as loud as a
passing steam locomotive.
Sam's gaze averted to one of the rectangular wall-mounted mirrors. The
closest one. The one that reflected all five of the half-open toilet
cubicles.
There, stood outside the fourth, was something big and green and with
arms as long as tree-trunks.
Sam's eyes darted from the mirror.
"Mummy!" he whispered, tears rolling down his cheeks. "Oh Mummy..."
He didn't want to look back into the mirror. He didn't want to know
what the Bog Monster looked like because he was petrified of it. His
hair was standing completely on end and he was wheezing like an
asthmatic.
With a huge gasp, he turned around and crashed his fists onto the
door and screamed, "HEEEEEEEEELP! MUUUMIIIEEE! HEEELP!"
He paused to swallow a hot frog in his throat. During the brief moment
of quiet, he heard someone jangling keys outside. Then, to his
amazement, a key was actually inserted into the lock and the latch
turned.
The door swung inwards and Sam staggered away to allow his rescuer
space to enter.
Sobbing, he edged against the wall and risked a very quick glance at
the mirror to see if the Bog Monster had made any further progress.
There was no monster anymore, but the door of the fourth cubicle was
slowly closing.
Someone stepped inside the room and Sam turned his head, expecting to
see the fuming face of a demonic teacher snarling at him.
It wasn't a teacher.
It was Susie Wentworth.
"Sam!" gasped Susie dramatically. "Whatchoo doin' in here?"
Before he could answer, she quickly closed the door and pressed her
back to it, preventing him from running away. Her eyes were huge and
she had crossed her hands over her chest with shock.
To Sam, Susie was the most beautiful thing on two legs. Even in the
strange, exaggerated light of the bathroom she looked quite amazing.
Her hair was a fountain of gold that spilled down over her shoulders
and framed her dark, narrow face. She had deep blue eyes that Sam found
captivating, but above all, she had the one and only pair of Incredible
Legs, most of which he could see right now. Susie always wore short
skirts, one of the primary reasons for Sam's gargantuan crush on her.
"Miss Cookson's gonna freak!" she whispered. In one of her hands she
clutched a bunch of keys. Sam thought she looked very grown-up and he
quickly decided to pretend that the Bog Monster didn't exist.
"The boy's toilets were locked." he said, trying to keep his eyes off
those attention-grabbing legs. "I was desperate. You won't tell on me,
will you?"
"I wouldn't do that." Susie said and began to entwine the silvery keys
amongst her fingers. She crossed her legs and tilted her head at Sam,
who was deeply lost in his fantasies. She tutted at him and said,
"Well, aren'tcha going then? Or do you want to watch me have a pee?"
At first, Sam thought she was seriously making him an offer and was
tempted to book in for the show, but then he tagged on to her sarcasm
and shrugged. "I guess I'm going."
She slid away from the door and said, "Okay then."
Sam stepped forwards nervously.
Susie whispered, "Wait for me outside."
Sam gulped. "Huh? What for?" He blinked at her legs then quickly
corrected himself. "I mean, sure. I'll wait."
"Good." Susie said and smiled. Then, she walked past him and paced
down the row of cubicles, glancing into each one (obviously searching
for the cleanest, Sam thought logically).
He watched her carefully and for the first time his mind wasn't at
all concerned with her legs. He secretly hoped and prayed that she
wouldn't choose go into cubicle four... but she did.
She stepped right in, then poked her head around the corner at Sam and
said, "You oughta go out, Sam. S'not that I'm bothered, but if Miss
Cookson catches you..."
Sam nodded quickly. "Uhuh. I'm goin' now."
Susie waited for him to leave the room, then closed the door of the
cubicle and wiped her nose. A few seconds later, she was humming softly
as she urinated into the toilet, giggling to herself now and then as
she recalled Sam's cute, tomato-red face.
# Sssshhhhhhhh....
Susie made herself stop peeing and listened sharply.
# Ssssssssshhhhhhhhhhh...
It was a soft, hissing noise and it was close.
Her first assumption was that it was Sam playing a trick on her
because she had teased him a bit. She even uttered a small moan that
meant "Ha-ha, very funny" but that moan was cut short.
# Suuuuuussssssiieeeeeeeeeee....
Susie felt a cold shiver run down her spine. She squirted out the last
of her pee hurriedly and then stood up from the seat... but something
had caught onto her skirt and she fell back down again.
'It's Sam! He's playing a game! He's teasin' you!' She thought.
"Get off me!" Susie said and laughed a little. "You'll get-UH!"
She was jerked back, and her bottom sank almost all the way down into
the water at the bottom of the toilet. She scrambled back up, not
laughing at all now.
She was hurting a lot and she was very scared.
"I don't like thiiis!" she wailed. "Don't hurt me Sam! I didn't mean
it! You can watch me pee! Just don't do thiiiiiis-"
Susie screamed. Her bare bottom made contact with the chilly water/
urine in the bottom of the toilet and her spine dug into the rim.
"Heeeelp meeee!" she yelled, hands squealing along the edge of the
moist toilet, searching for a suitable grip.
But there was nothing. The thing, whatever had caught onto her skirt,
was wrenching her down the loo, pulling her further and further down
towards that U-bend, that thick, stinking pipe that led deep into the
eternal sewers.
As Susie folded inwards like a human deck-chair, Sam crawled under the
narrow gap beneath the wall that separated Susie's cubicle from the
third one. He dragged himself up, hands skidding on wet tiles.
He was through the gap by less than a metre when he saw her feet, now
well off the ground, dangling helplessly in the air. He reached out,
grabbed her shoe, slipped, caught it again, lost it altogether.
Angrily, he hoisted himself fully up and out into cubicle four. He
grabbed Susie's legs and began to tug, battling for her with the Bog
Monster.
She was screaming like mad, and this made Sam fight harder. The
toilet-creature was weak; all it seemed to have a grip on was Susie's
skirt and before long, the fabric of it began to rip apart.
Suddenly, she came free and crashed into Sam like a bundle of sticks.
Her hair engulfed his face, but he whisked it away in time to see an
enormous green hand blast out of the toilet like a five-headed serpent.
It groped at the walls blindly with it's webbed fingers, splattering
sticky clumps of faeces and urine across the cubicle.
Sam staggered to his feet and pressed his back against the door. The
huge rubbery hand snaked around a moment longer, then sloshed back down
the bog. There was a revolting bubbly gurgle and a deep, droning sound
that noticably resembled a constipated moan.
The chain pulled itself and the toilet flushed.
Susie was crying loudly in Sam's arms. She weighed an absolute tonne,
but he didn't mind that. He was actually HOLDING her, which, to Sam,
was enough of a reward for his brave rescue.
He held her back from his body and said, "Are you okay?"
She didn't answer, just wrapped her arms around his neck and continued
to bawl.
Sam looked at the messed up toilet in front of him and frowned.
"Hard lines!" he shouted to it giddily, "You can't hurt Susie without
having to come through me first, you ugly ball of shit!"
The lethal toilet inside cubicle four steamed as Sam got to his feet
with Susie. It dripped and gurgled and hissed until the two kids were
out of the room.
Then, it exploded.