Clogged open Closed

Oliver strolled into the bathroom, in his hand he carried a chocolate pastry from the great hall. Today was already a great day. When leaving the common room this morning, Oliver got a glance of Dymphna sitting with her friends. A mere two seconds of open-mouth staring completed the entire day for the boy. He made his way to get breakfast, his pastry, before getting to work on a problem he had made last night.

Strolling through the silent aisle of the abandoned toilets, Oliver was about to walk into a stall before he realised a younger girl was standing in it. Jumping with fright, Oliver took a swift step back to catch his breath. Out of sight, he rapidly thought of what to do. This girl seemed to be towering over the problem Oliver created last night. Did she know he made it? He was mortified, maybe she saw him come out last night and wanted to see what destruction he had caused.

Wedged into the bend of the toilet sat what appeared to be a bludger. It was nothing of the sort. A colossal, unmovable third is what it really was. And around it was like a galaxy of stars layered out on the white canvas of the inner porcelain. Freckles decorated the entire interior of the toilet. A mere two cuts of toilet paper laid the abomination to rest, hardly hiding it from view. That wasn't all, the initial stench was strong enough to knock some back a few yards when entering the room. The air was thick and worst of all, the cannonball seemed to radiate a large amount of heat, much like a furnace. The room was humid and warm. It was monstrous in every way and the biggest challenge any plumber could ever face.

Oliver inhaled quietly and stepped up with a few loud footsteps so he could be heard. "Hey," Oliver spoke and would nod if and when Freya turned. He'd then take a bite out of his chocolate pastry before looking at the toilet. "Oh man, what the hell! That is disgusting! Who would do such a thing!" Oliver grimaced, giving a dramatic disgusted face and looking away. He then took another nibble of his pastry as he reeled away.

In truth, Oliver had returned to try flush it down. This was his favourite stall and the only place he was allowed go toilet. The older Ravenclaws had banned him from using the common room's toilets and he got beat up way too many times for destroying the toilets in other areas of the school. This stall was the only one with a trustworthy door in the abandoned toilets.

"Did you do that?" Oliver tried to force out a questioning tone.

The smell of Surströmming mixed with roadkill with a dash of troll boogers invaded Freya's nostrils as she, while trying to withstand vomiting, took in the sight before her. It was the most compact, dense thing that she had ever seen, with a galaxy of brown stars encircling it in what could only be described as a work of art, except that it was...fecal matter. Her eyes widened as she took in the immense size of the thing and wondered if she could even plunge her way out of this nightmare.

If Dad were here, he'd have an answer. He and her grandfather were the experts; Freya was only an apprentice, hindered by this stupid magic school that her parents forced her to go too when all she wanted was to spend time underneath pipes. So of course they were to blame that now, when faced with the biggest crap of her life, she didn't know what to do. She waited for the gears to shift in her brain, but right now, they were just as clogged as the toilet.

The "hey" behind her startled the blonde, who had been ruffling her bowl cut, deep in thought and perplexed by the scene before her. She was about to awkwardly laugh to the new witness to this scene when he immediately went off about how disgusting it was. Freya didn't want to be rude, but her eyes narrowed and she stared at him in a confused manner as she watched him chew the similarly-colored chocolate pastry. It was at this moment that she realized either the humidity of the room or the plethora of poop-looking objects would make her hurl quite soon if she didn't convince the boy to help her.

Instead, however, he didn't seem to be too interested in getting rid of it. Rather, he seemed to want to know who left this present as a Christmas surprise, and Freya could tell you that this Santa came from the frozen side of Hell. The crease between her eyes deepened as she frowned at the boy, partly aghast that he would think she would leave such a poop of gigantic proportions, partly hoping that it would alleviate the stench that was somehow burning her eyes with its odor. After a long silence, she finally uttered one word: "Really?"

Freya turned back toward the toilet and, against her better judgement, approached what she could only conclude was elephant dung. Bile lurched upwards and her hand immediately covered her mouth in fear of what a new ingredient of vomit would make in combination with the toilet potion. That esophageal heat, however, inspired an idea, albeit not the most clever one from a girl who was the princess of Pipeline Plumbing. She turned back to the boy, ruffled her hair once more, and inquired, "Do you happen to have a plunger?"

This kid may be no Caelin Thomas, but he'd have to do.