The urinal coughs, splutters toilet-bowl blue when he punches it.


Then lean-forward and grabs it – calloused hand on porcelain white and burnished pipe.

When do we rwahr mhrrmmm…
Lapses into incomprehensibility.

The urinal is silent.

Switches to Spanish and tries again.

The urinal – still silent.

Suddenly he arches his neck and throws his head back screaming “Fire!” to the lights as he lets loose, roiling the water green with discharged energy.

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