INSIDE THE RABBIT HOLE

INSIDE THE RABBIT HOLE

It was weird

There was slime mixed with the dirt

The light was fading

Yet another hole appeared

Which this time

Felt less weird

As the earth tilting

Minds synchronized

The time reversing

Faces fade into nothing

As fire mixes with water

Calm lights fill your eyes with wonder

Calm thunder visits your heart

As a bird on a wire

Spins its head to you with emerald eyes

To sing your victory song in chirps.
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Setting: Inside a dark, echoing bathroom plumbing line, right before a major flushing event.Urine: (Splashing aggressively against the ceramic walls) Look at you, slacking off as usual! I’m in and out of here six times a day, keeping this body filtered and clean. You show up once—maybe twice if the human had a fiber bar—and expect a standing ovation. You're slow, you're heavy, and you take forever to get ready!Poop: (Thudding heavily into the water, sending up a massive splash) Slow? It’s called craftsmanship, you watery amateur! You’re just 95% water and a little bit of leftover urea. You require zero effort. I am the grand finale of a 24-hour digestive masterpiece! I represent the steak, the potatoes, the complex carbohydrates! I have structure. I have presence.Urine: Presence? You mean odor! You completely ruin the atmosphere the second you walk into the room. People have to light matches and turn on exhaust fans just to survive your presence. When I arrive, it’s a quick, polite zip and a wash of the hands. I am civilized.Poop: Oh, don't act so pure. You turn bright neon yellow if the human takes a single multivitamin! And let's talk about urgency—you make the human panic and run like a maniac just because a movie ran over two hours. I have discipline. I give a polite, rumbling warning hours in advance.Urine: (Steaming slightly) I am the frontline defense of the kidneys! Without me, the system shuts down from toxic buildup in days. You're just the stuff the body couldn't even use. You're literally the leftovers!Poop: Leftovers? I am the ultimate metric of gut health! Doctors study my shape, my color, and my consistency on a chart like it's fine art. No one is out here making a "Bristol Stool Chart" for your boring splash patterns.The Toilet Handle: (CLANK)Urine: (Swirling rapidly in circles) Uh oh. Here comes the swirl!Poop: (Sinking into the vortex) See you in the septic tank, water-boy!