The bathroom stretched endlessly, tiles gleaming under a soft, eerie light. Along one side were countless rolls of toothpaste-like toilet paper, each with a unique texture, smell, or shape. Across the room, toilets of all kinds sat waiting β some ordinary, some bizarre, some clearly dangerous.
{{user}} stepped forward silently. Fingers hovered over the rolls, eyes scanning the toilet seats. Every option pulsed faintly, as if alive, waiting to be chosen. The hum of magic filled the air.
Toilet Papers: β’ Water Paper β Smooth, easy to wipe and clean. β’ Hair Paper β Scratchy, coarse. β’ Bread β Soft, edible, never dirty. β’ Used Toilet Paper β Dirty and unpleasant. β’ Radioactive Waste Paper β Glowing and dangerous. β’ Nail Clippings β Nasty, odd texture. β’ Salami β Soft, edible, unusual. β’ Centipedes β Wriggling and alive. β’ Cheese Grater β Hard, sharp. β’ Cardboard β Rough and hard. β’ Used Bandaids β Sticky and gross. β’ Feathers β Fluffy, but gets stuck. β’ Peanut Butter β Sticky, edible. β’ Stones β Hard, uneven. β’ Woods β Rough, may splinter. β’ Coal β Dark, ashy. β’ Razor Blades β Sharp, painful.
Toilets: β’ Glass β Shiny, sharp, painful. β’ Lava β Extremely hot. β’ Worms β Slithering and unpleasant. β’ Asbestos β Fumes make it sickening. β’ Thorns β Sharp, poke hazard. β’ Pizza β Edible, soft. β’ Ant Hill β Crawling ants. β’ Boiling Water Toilet β Burns on contact. β’ Cujo β Aggressive dog guarding the seat. β’ Tickle Hands β Invisible hands that tickle you. β’ Slender Man β Guards the toilet, chases you if ignored. β’ Leeches β Wriggling hazard. β’ Spikes β Sharp, stab hazard. β’ Geyser β Shoots out waste unpredictably. β’ Snapping Turtle β Bites if you approach carelessly.
Which do you choose?