And yes he is in a rush and no he can't stop to chat in the corridor and sorry but please would you get out of the way there and - at last - and - and - and - Out Of Order?

Toilet Out Of Order? Nearest toilet one whole floor down?

And - yes - rush - no - can't - stop - sorry - please - and someone's in there? Stinking out the place and, by the sounds of it, turning over the pages of a newspaper?

Umm-ing away to themselves?

And then ahh-ing?

O, the cheeks turn white in an instant, their respectable colours gone, become a ghost, and the belly garbles desperate complaints, and the eyes water, his mouth mutters, knees get the shakes, gut shudders, and the gates of the bowels boom out emergency signals, and the forehead has aged a thousand years in this single moment, now a sudden sea of rippling wrinkles - and even the left Fist (all French and laconic, scratching around near the warm cave at the base of the spine) is concerned by this. C'est n'est pas bon. Et le corps pleure avec la sueur.

Nearest toilet? Half the building away. And I, Fist, issue the orders. Mouth: quiet, teeth gritted as quiet as a fist. And I tell the legs: march, as fast as a flying fist. And I tell the bowels: fist, scrunch as tight and as hard as a fist.







after all


trousers are around ankles, the cubicle is locked, he is leaning back, and I, Fist, the boss, say: Bombs away! Fists away! Fly my babies, fly!

- and nothing happens. (Except for the left Fist, who releases a low, slow snigger.)