TOILET WINE

 By Psychic, Madam, Misty, Murky Merkel

Part-time Temporary Associate Contributor

Humor News Nuts Online Publications

As many of you know, I have certain tools I use to enhance my psychic powers, so I can more accurately explore and predict the future.  Cards, Ouija Boards and the game "Twister", are all tools in every good psychic's toolbox.  The main items that make my predictions the best in the business, are my crystal balls, my Petoskey stones, and a special wine they sell down at the gas station, called "Thunderbird". 

The stones and balls last forever, but everyday I have to go down to the gas station, combination liquor store, and pick up two bottles of wine. Wine, of course, is expensive so in order to afford my tools of the trade, I sell my services to the morning manager, Maria.  Maria is the only employee in the store each morning, and she has a lot of work to do, besides wait on customers.  

For the last couple of years, Maria has employed me to sweep and mop the floors each morning for two bottles of wine.  Well, yesterday she told me she could only give me one bottle of wine for my services, because the price of wine had doubled.  I told her I needed two bottles each day, or I'd be done giving predictions by noon.  

Maria is a good girl, and she suggested I could get an extra bottle of wine each day if I would clean the bathroom in the morning.  I agreed.  I had no choice.  So yesterday, after I swept and moped the floor, I started cleaning the bathroom.

The bathroom was a complete disaster.  There was water, turds, poop and toilet paper all over the floor, in the sink, and even up on the light fixture.  Of course the toilet was overflowing.  You would think that when someone sees an overflowing toilet, they wouldn't try flushing it when they know it's just going to run all over.  But they must have  flushed and flushed that backed-up  toilet a million times.  What a mess to clean up.

Finally, I had most of the mess cleaned up, but I had to reach down into the toilet and pull out whatever it was that had backed-up all that nastiness. I did not have any plastic gloves, so I had to use my bare hands.  I figured I could wash my hands off  later, and besides I've stuck my hands into much worse places, and all I ever got was a case of mange.  

I sort of held my breath as I stuck my hand into the toilet.  I grabbed onto something thick and long, that was stuck tight in the toilet exit hole.  I had to yank on it with both hands, and finally it came up.  It was someone's arm.  That was different, I thought.

It was almost as bad as when my ex made me a homemade burrito and I spit out a big yellow toenail from someone's big toe.  I checked.  It wasn't mine.  Then I remembered my ex was clipping his toenails earlier that day.

I wasn't sure what to do with the arm.  I could have thrown it in the trash, but I realized it was kind of an important thing to find, and that someone might be missing it.  So I washed the arm up as best that I could and dried it under the hand dryer.  I left the hand under the dryer a bit too long and it started to smell like it was cooking.  

Then I stuck the arm in the lost and found tote, located on a shelf, underneath the cash register.  The arm didn't quite fit, so I really had to shove.  I think I broke the wrist.  Anyway, the arm is there if the guy comes back for it. I figure it was a guys arm because of the big muscles and thick arm bones.

Finally, I picked up my wine and started back to my trailer.  I didn't get hardly 20 feet out the door when I heard this horrible scream from Maria. I figured she saw another rat run across the floor.  She always screams when she sees one.  I didn't bother going back because I had my wine, and I was on a mission to get home.