Mr. Blue Sky

My other half as recently bought some toilet cleaner called ‘Blue’. ‘Blue’ comes in a tablet form that is put in the cistern and, as the name suggests, each time the toilet is flushed it turns the water in the bowl bright blue. This morning, after a good night’s sleep, I had a dump and what can only be described as a ‘donkey piss’. As I stood up to wipe my backside (see ‘Things I hate #3’ to gain a further insight, should you want one, into my arse wiping habits), I noticed that the stool I’d dropped was lurking at the bottom of the pan like a U-boat waiting for Allied merchant shipping to come by during the Atlantic Battle in World War Two, in water that had now turned GREEN. And then I had a brainwave. One of those flashes of inspiration that Thomas Edison, Joseph Bramah and Benny Hill must have experienced several times every day. The Wazz Doctor! The toilet home testing kit. A home medical testing apparatus combined with bathroom hygiene! Bloody genius! Just a little tablet with a clever concoction of chemicals and some scented stuff. Not only will the The Wazz Doctor! keep your toilet smelling lemony/alpine meadow/lavender/potpourri fresh, but within seconds the colour of the water will tell you if you’ve got knacker cancer (red)/you’re pregnant (purple) /riddled with Chlamydia (orange) /have diabetes (pink) or a slipped disc (yellow). You’ll never have to visit a GP again! This could be the biggest thing since the invention of the wheel and the pot bloody noodle!

 

I can see the pitch on Dragon’s Den. Me there with a toilet and a cistern full of hope introducing The Wazz Doctor! Duncan Ballatyne: ‘Can I piss in it now?’ Me: ‘Well, no, this is just a mock up, to show you the idea.’ Ballatyne, looking like he’s just smelled his own shit for the first time in forty years (his stock expression): ‘So I can’t piss in it?’ Me: ‘No. It’s not plumbed in anywhere, this is just for demonstration purposes.’ Ballantyne, speaking to Paphitis: ‘Theo, stop pissing in it, you’re getting urine everywhere.’ Turns to Deborah Meadham. ‘Debs, why don’t you try having a shit in it, see if your arse has got any better.’ Meadham, getting up from her chair: ‘I’m in!’

 

This time next year we’ll be millionaires.

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