MCP9 “No, I’m not in the toilet. You’re just really high.”

And no, dammit, she isn’t in the toilet, she’s in a bathtub. Which no longer looks like the toilet, but it was. It was the toilet! But again, I can’t play with the past, so it has to go. She’s in the bath. I need the potty. “Around the corner,” she says, and I oblige, but there’s tile and I know she’s going to hear it. Unless this is a fancy charmed stall with no sound? The trip doesn't care, it Demands the waste go away, out and gone for good to cause biological problems somewhere else, because energy can’t be made or go away, only change… “Are you finished? I’m out, don’t be shy. Great stuff, huh?” Her voice curls around and through and doesn’t hesitate to tap me on the shoulder right there in the stall. “I know why tharp lay eggs.” “Uh yeah, to reproduce,” I say, amused and relieved, truly. I can ride this trip. All is well.