Bill's Porta Potty Adventure

          My name is Bill. For the past ten years I have lived in a run-down, sideways porta potty off Highway 40. When I first had to live here I tried to wave down cars and ask for help, but they wouldn't stop, I guess because I was covered in poo and smelled like an old moldy jock-strap. But that's okay, because I've learned to love my potty.
         I remember when I was just a little boy my Pa used to take me on his knee and say, "Son, you're a dipshit and you'll never amount to anything. When you grow up you'll probably live in a garbage can somewhere." But Pa was wrong. I live in a potty.
         One time I was sleepin' and all of the sudden I heard this bangin' sound. I got out and saw that a bunch of ruffians were kickin' my potty! And I said, "Hey you ruffians, get away from my potty!" And they just laughed and started to run away. I knew I had to stop them, so I chucked a couple of dry turds at them and it killed them instantly. I went to bed that night thinkin', "Pa, I done you proud!"
         Sometimes I wonder if I could live a better life. But then I think, "There could be no better life than just sittin' in a potty chuckin' dry turds at people!" And so I know I'm gonna life happily ever after.

EPILOUGE: Bill's potty was later burned down by ruffians so he had to move out. He now lives in Brighton under the assumed identity of "Mr. Dobry".(Sorry, that's a slight inside joke folks).