Hello Dearest Babies,

I've decided to upload a piece that I wrote for one of my classes. This is a tragic / comedic / disgusting piece that focuses on the woes of Jules, a urinal. Jules does his best but wants to rise above. Consider this piece to be a beacon of light in a time of darkness. Enjoy!

"To improve is to change; to be perfect is to change often." – Winston Churchill

Within the walls of the Penrose Library at Whitman College, there sit seven bathrooms. In the basement bathroom, three urinals occupy two different walls: Jerry and Lillian on the eastern wall and Jules on the western wall. These three urinals lived a fine life in the basement bathroom. Jerry and Lillian got most of the work done, and Jules sat on his side, entirely concealed by the stall.

Now Jules didn’t mind this that much, but he felt like something was off. He was a good urinal, despite his spot on the wall being only two feet off of the ground. Repeatedly, he’d tell himself, "I am not a child’s urinal. I’m just a little more squat."

On the ninth day of March in 2016, however, Jules felt something new. A student in blue shorts with flamingos on them walked into the bathroom and stopped short. This student considered Jules with a disapproving – or was that shameful – look. Jules almost turned red with rage but regained his composition (he didn’t want to give away his sentience just yet). The boy turned and peed in Jerry. Again.

Normally, Jules found himself breathing deeply and counting to ten. Normally, Jules didn’t take things personally. Normally, Jules would share his woes and anger at Anger Management (3 a.m. every Tuesday in the third-floor bathroom with Rick and Olivia). This was no normal situation anymore. Rick and Olivia’s goddamn breathing wasn’t helping anymore.

A hellish sound echoed around the bathroom, making Jules’ counterparts quake and a student’s – let’s call it a – stream go askew. Jules clattered to the floor, snarling his little (pardon me) terrifying snarl. The student, ‘salesman’ still out the door, ran from the bathroom, money essentially flying from his wallet into a psychiatrist’s hand.

Jules, on the other hand, was not leaving the bathroom for another Anger Management meeting again. He slid over to the eastern wall, hoisted himself up onto the wall, and smacked that idiot Jerry straight off the wall. Jules, triumphant, cast his shadow over the shattered pieces that once composed Jerry. Lillian shrieked with fear, bouncing off the wall and running out the door. Water splashed from exposed pipes, filling an ocean that Jules now ruled over.

Jules didn’t think of repercussions at this point in time. He didn’t think of the lawsuits, the prison time or even the shame. Jules was a full three-and-a-half foot off the ground now. Jules was powerful. Jules was infinite. Jules had won!