Episode 4

So, I've defeated a troll with my magical porcelain penis, clogged a Sewer Serpent with a swirling vortex of filth, and discovered I have a sentient toilet spirit living inside me. What's next in this fever dream of a fantasy world? You'd think I'd get a break. Maybe a nice, peaceful day of no chaos.

Yeah, not in Lavatoria.

The day started like any other post-sewer-monster battle, with me trying to figure out what other bizarre powers I might unlock and Ursha, my giant, minotaur warrior wife, casually sharpening her battle axe like it was no big deal.

"You did good yesterday, Toilet Man," Ursha grunted, not even looking up as she ran a whetstone along the edge of her weapon. "But don't think for a second that the world's done throwing crap at you. Literally."

"Oh, trust me, I've come to terms with that," I muttered, wobbling on my newly improved feet. I'd gained some decent mobility after the Sewer Serpent incident, but I still wasn't the most graceful creature in the kingdom. Being a sentient toilet with a magical handle and a glowing porcelain penis doesn't exactly make you agile. "So, what's next? Giant rats? A dragon that spits sewage? I'm mentally preparing for anything at this point."

Ursha gave me a sideways glance and smirked. "Oh, I'd say what's coming next is... different. Let's just say you're about to get introduced to a whole new level of insanity. But hey, you've handled everything Lavatoria's thrown at you so far. You'll be fine."

Her tone wasn't exactly reassuring, but before I could press her for details, the air around us began to change. A strange, sweet-smelling breeze blew through the village, and tiny glittering lights began to flicker in the distance. I heard a faint giggling, high-pitched and mischievous, like a bunch of sugar-fueled children plotting something.

"What is that?" I asked, already dreading the answer.

"Oh, you'll see soon enough," Ursha said, standing up and swinging her axe over her shoulder. "Here they come."

From the forest surrounding the village, a group of tiny, winged creatures flew toward us, each one leaving a trail of sparkling dust in their wake. They were about the size of a soda can, with glowing wings and hair made of what looked like cotton candy. Their skin shimmered in pastel hues, pinks, purples, and blues, and their eyes gleamed with mischievous glee.

Fairies.

But not just any fairies.

"Farting Fairies," Ursha announced, sounding almost amused.

I blinked, well, tried to blink, because toilets don't have eyelids. "I'm sorry, did you say… farting fairies?"

Before I could process that, the group of tiny winged creatures zoomed toward us, buzzing around my porcelain body like a cloud of giggling, glitter-covered chaos. One of them, a particularly vibrant pink fairy, flew up right to my face, or lid, and grinned mischievously.

"Hi there, Big Guy!" she squeaked, her voice as sweet as honey. "We heard there's a super strong toilet around here, and we just had to come see for ourselves!"

"Uh... thanks, I guess?" I said, still utterly baffled by what was happening.

The fairy flitted around me, leaving a trail of sparkling dust that smelled like a mix of cotton candy and… something much less pleasant. She stopped in midair, giggling as she placed her hands on her tiny hips.

"We've got a gift for you, Mr. Toilet!" she chirped. "Prepare yourself!"

"Prepare myself for wha, " But before I could finish the sentence, the fairy zipped over to my side, landed on the edge of my bowl, and let out the loudest, most ridiculous fart I've ever heard. It wasn't just any fart, it was magical. It echoed with a sparkling sound, like a bell ringing inside a whoopee cushion.

The force of it sent a burst of glittering gas straight into my bowl, and I felt it instantly, a strange new energy surging through my porcelain. It wasn't like the power I'd gained from Ursha or the villagers. No, this was… different.

"You've gotta be kidding me," I muttered, feeling the bizarre power settling inside me.

The other fairies, now laughing hysterically, followed suit. They flew in circles around me, each one stopping to deliver a musical fart directly into my bowl, like they were performing some sort of deranged, gaseous symphony. Each fart came with a glitter explosion, and with every passing second, I could feel my body changing again.

"What is happening right now?!" I groaned, but there was no stopping it.

The fairies' magic was weaving itself into my porcelain, unlocking new abilities in ways I couldn't even begin to understand. I could feel my handle fingers tingling, my base vibrating with energy. And then, in one final burst of fairy fart magic, I felt it, a surge of power like nothing I'd ever experienced.

"Congratulations, Chosen One," the toilet spirit said, her voice barely suppressing a laugh. "You've just unlocked the power of Wind Magic."

"Wait, you're telling me I just got powered up by farting fairies?" I asked, my disbelief growing by the second.

"Indeed," the spirit replied, fully amused. "Their unique... contributions have granted you the ability to manipulate wind, a powerful force in battle. With practice, you'll be able to summon gusts of wind, create tornadoes, and yes, even weaponize the air around you with devastating force."

I didn't know whether to laugh, cry, or flush myself down a drain at this point. "This is my life now. This is who I am."

Ursha, who had been watching the entire spectacle, finally broke into laughter, clutching her stomach as she bent over in hysterics. "Toilet Man, you've outdone yourself this time. Farting fairies powering up the mighty Vessel of Power. This is too good!"

"Yeah, laugh it up," I grumbled, though I could feel the new power surging through me. There was no denying it, I was stronger. I could feel the air around me bending to my will. I raised one of my handle fingers experimentally, and with a flick, a small gust of wind swirled around me, lifting some of the glittering dust into the air.

The fairies, still giggling, flew around me in a chaotic dance, clearly pleased with their handiwork. "We'll be back when you need more wind power!" the pink fairy called as she and her friends disappeared into the forest, leaving a trail of glitter in their wake.

I stood there, covered in fairy dust and fart magic, my new wind powers buzzing through my porcelain frame.

"You're really something, Jake," Ursha said, wiping a tear of laughter from her eye. "Not even a minotaur could've predicted this one."

I sighed, or at least tried to, because, you know, no lungs. "I've officially hit rock bottom. Or fart bottom. Whatever this is."

But deep down, as ridiculous as it was, I knew the truth. I was getting stronger, more powerful, and maybe, just maybe, I had a shot at mastering this insane world of Lavatoria. Even if it meant getting powered up by farting fairies.

I was still reeling from my latest "power-up" courtesy of the farting fairies when the sound of approaching footsteps snapped me out of my fairy-fueled daze. Ursha had wandered off to laugh herself silly somewhere, leaving me standing there, wind powers newly unlocked, sparkling with magical fart dust, when an old man shuffled into view.

He was hunched over, leaning heavily on a gnarled walking stick, his clothes covered in patches and stains that suggested he hadn't seen a bath in… well, probably ever. His long, scraggly beard dangled down to his knees, and his wrinkled face was scrunched up in a permanent expression of discomfort. But what caught my attention more than anything was the unmistakable look of relief in his eyes when he spotted me.

"Oh, no," I muttered, feeling a wave of dread wash over me. "Please, no. Not this guy. Anyone but this guy."

The old man hobbled over to me, his movements slow and deliberate, like he was on a mission. He paused in front of me, squinting as if he wasn't sure what he was looking at. Then, with a wheezy chuckle, he muttered, "A public privy, eh? Well, ain't this my lucky day."

"No. Nope. Absolutely not. Please, for the love of all that is holy, do not sit on me."

But, of course, he couldn't hear me. He probably wouldn't have cared even if he could. With the speed of a snail on tranquilizers, the old man began to fumble with his belt, his shaky hands tugging at the worn leather with all the grace of someone about to unleash an unholy storm.

"This can't be happening," I groaned internally as I watched him lower his trousers, revealing the saggiest, most wrinkled behind I had ever, and I do mean ever, seen. It was like staring into the abyss, only instead of darkness, it was pure, wrinkly terror.

And then, he sat. His bony, saggy butt hit my seat with a thud, and I swear I heard a creak, whether from my porcelain or his joints, I couldn't tell.

"Oh, sweet release," the old man croaked, his voice shaking with the kind of satisfaction that only comes from decades of gastrointestinal misery.

"Oh, sweet horror," I mentally screamed. My handle fingers twitched in revulsion as I felt the familiar sensation of someone, yet again, using me for my intended purpose. But this wasn't like any other time. No, this was... next level.

At first, there was silence. An eerie, awful silence.

Then came the noise. A sound so vile, so wet, and so deep that I actually gagged, or at least, I would've gagged if I had a throat. It was like a symphony of mudslides, combined with a clogged drain and the sound of a swamp exploding. The kind of sound that makes you question not just your life choices, but the existence of sound itself.

"Oh dear GOD!" I mentally screamed. "What did this guy eat? An entire bog?! Did he drink straight from a sewage pipe?"

But the worst part wasn't the noise. Oh no. It was the smell. The air around me thickened with a stench so powerful, so evil, that I felt my porcelain crack under the strain of enduring it. The farting fairies? Child's play compared to this. This man had the digestive tract of a demon.

"This is how I die," I thought, my porcelain tank trembling as the old man continued to unload the contents of his soul into me. "This is it. Forget trolls, sewer serpents, and magical powers, this is the end."

The old man let out a long, satisfied groan as he continued his assault on my senses. "Ahhh, that's been brewing for days," he wheezed, oblivious to the fact that I was on the verge of a full-blown existential crisis beneath him.

I felt every moment of it, the splattering, the gurgling, the way his unholy dump splashed against my pristine porcelain. I had been through a lot as Lavatoria's chosen toilet, but this? This was some next-level horror. I could practically hear the smell, and it was screaming.

"If there's a toilet afterlife, I'm going to haunt this guy forever," I vowed as the old man let out another horrifying sound, this one a mix between a grunt and a death rattle.

It went on for what felt like an eternity, each second stretching out into an agonizing abyss of disgust and filth. By the time the old man finally stood up and fumbled to pull his pants back on, I was broken. Not physically, but emotionally. Spiritually. This man had crushed my soul with his bowel movement.

He gave me a pat, a PAT, on my tank, like I was some sort of loyal dog who had just fetched him a newspaper. "Good job, privy. I'll be back tomorrow, I'm sure."

"Please don't," I begged silently, but he shuffled off without a second glance, leaving me alone in the aftermath of the worst thing that had ever happened to me.

The smell lingered. It clung to me like a curse, like I had been marked by something ancient and foul. I could almost hear the wind whispering in sympathy for my plight.

Ursha came back a few moments later, still chuckling to herself about the fairies. But the second she got within sniffing range, her nose wrinkled, and she stopped dead in her tracks. "Whoa. What the hell happened here?"

"I just lived through the worst moment of my life," I muttered. "An old man... he… he destroyed me."

Ursha took a cautious step forward, squinting at me. "You look like you've been through a war."

"I have," I replied. "And I lost."

Ursha let out a bark of laughter that echoed through the village. "You really are something, Toilet Man. Even the creatures of Lavatoria can't compare to what you just endured, huh?"

"No, no they cannot," I groaned, still trying to shake the phantom smell that haunted my very soul.

"Well," Ursha said with a shrug, "Look at the bright side. You survived."

I paused for a moment, considering that. She was right. I had survived. And maybe, just maybe, that meant I could survive anything Lavatoria threw at me. Trolls, sewer monsters, farting fairies, and even the world's worst old man bowel movement.

Maybe I was stronger than I thought.

But one thing was for sure: I never, ever, wanted to go through that again.