The Toilet Paper King

[General Goose]

((Chuck Soileaux continued from Me Eyes Want a Change.))

The last time Chuck needed a shit on the island, he lacked toilet paper.

Now, he had a positive bonanza of the stuff. He was the Toilet Paper King. If he was so inclined, if his understanding of basic economics had taught him one thing, he could abandon the whole parish idea, hole up in some other easily advertised location, and trade his monopoly on toilet paper for mercy, for clemency. Maybe even for compensatory goods and services. ‘Retrieve this for me. Kill this person for me. Suck this for me…’

Last one was a joke. And a Peep Show reference. Why Chuck was justifying his internal lewdness to himself, that was another question. But still, it was a clarification he had to make clear. To quell the superego, the moral, part of his mind.

So here he was. Sitting next to so many rolls of toilet paper that it would, without a doubt, easily overshadow him if piled up correctly. And still, Chuck was improvising. Leaves, mostly. Anything fairly soft and capable of...scooping. Scoopage? Was that the word?

Again, Chuck needed a dictionary.

His strategy for laying a trail of toilet paper had been as follows: one fairly modest trail, with sheets deposited at observable and key locations, on the way there. Just to save resources. He would then do an inventory check at the final location, do a rather more audacious decoration there, and then double back as needed on the way back home.

No. Back to base.

((Chuck Soileaux continued in The Left Eye of the Smiley.))