Rules exist all around us. Rules written by our government. Rules at work. Rules in relationships. Spoken and unspoken. Rules meant to be broken? Some. Without rules, I do believe some level of chaos would exist. (Or is that regulation?)
Recently, I pondered how a lot of rules are born because someone broke the rule when it was just an understanding. Before that rule was recorded, people didn’t speak of it, but somewhere in the back of their mind, they knew it existed. Then, some silly Billy (sorry, bro) comes along and does something everyone knows is wrong, and now it’s apparent that not actually everyone knows. So, rules.
Let’s get real for a second and talk about one really boring type of rule. Laws. (I promise, the following paragraph is all I have to say about laws.) The government should have the best interest of the people in mind when making laws. I don’t think the government should say no guns, ever or you’re unfit to raise children: tubes tied. Though these things might seem like fixes, they create rules that give an entity way too much power. An entity that throughout history doesn’t seem to recognize that with great power comes great responsibility. I don’t agree with some laws the US government has already made, but I am still happy a government exists where I’m free to write that and post it on this world wide web doo dad.
That out of the way, let me do what I do best, which is make a really boring topic, somewhat entertaining. (Excuse that toot of my own horn, and attempt to prepare yourself for what comes next.)
Queen Rita sits upon her throne. Her gut twinges in agony as she bids the evil inside her come out. It has tortured her long enough.
The demon wishes for a fight, though. It pulls horribly at her insides as she wrestles it.
Groans, along with other sounds, escape her as she writhes in pain, in hopes that this fight will end soon.
With one last effort from the queen, the devil flees her innards.
Spying the fiend floating, Queen Rita rids herself of the wretched thing by flushing its ugly, brown form away and steps from her throne, triumphant!
I’m currently wondering if there is an unspoken rule about potty humor. Is it unacceptable always? Is it only acceptable in teenage or younger scenarios? I can’t help but ask. I know I crack a potty joke more than a 25 year old female should, but it’s just to get a laugh. Every now and then I succeed. That’s totally worth it. About 100% of my jokes (potty or not) are hit or miss, anyway, so why not try out that type every once in a while.
That little bit of fiction you read earlier, Cleansing, was written to a fellow writer who I consider a colleague of mine. This professional relationship is purely electronic, but he has inspired me several times. He writes a bunch of 100 Word Stories. I eat them up. I sent him that 100 word story of mine. He got quite a kick out of it and sent it out to his 100 Word Story fans. I was honored, and I can’t help but think that potty humor is acceptable in some formats, even in a professional setting, at times.
(You may be asking yourself, “Rules and potty humor? I’m so lost.” Let me help you out.) I was caught in a quandary recently when I was visiting the public toilet at my new work. The toilet paper was not unrolling properly due to a small metal container it’s housed in. As I was leaving the restroom, I couldn’t help but notice the trash (kept there for used female products) was in a metal container, too. The thing that made me raise an eyebrow (and maybe someone out there in Readerland has already cocked this particular eyebrow) was that they both, the toilet paper and trash containers, had locks on them. (Huh.)
I started thinking about why someone would want to protect toilet paper and discarded female products. Put them under lock and key to keep people out. This got me thinking about rules. Particularly, unspoken rules that are now spoken. As in, Don’t steal the toilet paper or go through the discarded female products. I’m sure there was a time when there weren’t locks on the toilet paper or trash because it was understood that these things were not worth the time of taking. Stealing toilet paper and/or going through discarded female products. Man, they must have been desperate.
I can only imagine:
Once upon a time, in the town of Kikawa, which wass known for the most absorbent toilet paper, there was a lady named Erin Schulter. She was not a happy woman and for good reason, too. Her husband had been recently kicked in the head by a horse and died. With eight little mouths to feed at home she didn’t know how she would survive. No one in the town would hire her, because they thought she was a witch.
Upon visiting the local bakery, she used the public outhouse and an idea struck her. She used the last of her money to buy a loaf of bread and some cookies and brought it home to her children. After they’d finished their snack, they said thank you, but she could still see the hunger in their eyes. She took them to her sister, Merl. Who, yes, was the uglier, less fortunately named sister. Erin left and was never seen again.
However, on every new moon, the lakes in a new city were drained and the people would be going thirsty. Then, a shady character with a red tattoo on her arm would appear and offer the water back to them for ransom. Once the mayor paid, they were sent buckets upon buckets of wet toilet paper. “Wring these sheets instead of your hands, and drink.” An attached note would read.
A nicely sized check was received once a month by Merl. It was enough to take care of her, her children, and Erin’s children, with a little to spare. They even had enough to buy themselves toilet paper. Which had become a luxury in their town, because it needed to be imported. All the toilet paper in the town of Kikawa had gone missing the same night Erin had left.
And that is why there are locks on the toilet paper and trash holders. Also, why we still search to this day for the recipe of the softest toilet paper.
Because an unspoken rule such as that can only be broken for such an honorable purpose, right? I don’t know whether to curse or bless Ms. Schulter, but I do know to bless you, dear reader, if you are in fact still reading at this point. Bless you for putting up with my crazy antics. I hope, at the very least, this post leaves you with a smile on your face.