CHAPTER THREE
– THE BABOON’S BUTT –
There are actually machines that allow you to print anything you want onto toilet paper.
Needless to say it was the Chinese, specifically those on the island of Taiwan, who came up with the idea.
“They went one step further than just printing,” Fred explained to his printer friend. “No cart before the horse for them. Well actually it was the cart first, or more precisely part of the cart ….. the seat.”
He went on to explain that the Taiwanese invented a biometric toilet seat but he was unsure exactly, or in detail, what it did.
However, this was followed by some Danish students who designed an auto close toilet seat which they claimed put an end to the age old controversy about men leaving the seat up after use much to the annoyance of the women who followed.
“According to the dictionary biometrics relates to methods for uniquely recognising humans,” he said. “This is based on one, or more than one, intrinsic physical or behavioural trait. As for its application in computer science, which was behind the biometric toilet seat, it is used as a form of what is called identity access management and access control.”
“Are you going to speak English or what?” said the printer.
“I think this just means that the seat knows when you stand up,” said Fred. “It then triggers something that lowers the seat. Clever eh?”
So, he argued, there was no reason why the next step, admittedly a step sideways and not in advanced science terms, could not be having books printed on rolls of toilet paper.
“Since when did you know anything about science?” his friend enquired.
“I don’t,” Fred answered. “But that isn’t the point. I’m not talking science here.”
“Well, what are you saying then?” asked his friend. “What’s all this talk about biometrics and toilet paper that you want to print on? What’s the connection?”
“Look, forget the biometrics. I’m just interested in the printing aspect.”
“Well?”
Fred shook his head. He thought he had already clearly explained his idea to his friend. Obviously not clearly enough though.
“Ok,” he said calmly. Speaking slowly but without sounding too condescending he continued: “There is lots of toilet paper out there with things printed on it. Mostly pictures and stuff. But I want to print, or publish actually, books on rolls so that when you are taking a crap, or in the case of women having a pee, you have something interesting to read. It’s that simple. See?”
“Gottcha,” his friend said. “Absolutely crazy idea. Forget it. Now what?”
“What do you mean forget it?” Fred demanded. A deep frown furrowed his brow. “I’m not going to forget it. And I don’t care if you do think it’s a crazy idea. I reckon it’d be a hit.”
“You mean a shit.”
“Very funny. Will you help me or not?”
His friend hesitated. “Look,” he said. “Tell me exactly what you need.”
Fred relaxed. “OK. It’s the ink that’s the main problem. It has to be the right stuff or it’ll cause all sorts of trouble. Ordinary ink plays hell with your arse.”
“How do you know that?” his friend interjected.
Now it was Fred’s turn to hesitate. His friend’s eyebrows shot up questioningly.
“I tried it,” said Fred finally.
The eyebrows of his friend remained arched.
“I got some toilet paper and stuck it onto some copy paper and printed out some text.”
“Using your DeskJet printer at home?”
“Right.”
“And?”
Fred grimaced at the thought. “Let’s just say the doctor at the clinic originally thought I had been doing things I shouldn’t.”
His friend took a step backwards and laughed. “What, he thought you had been sticking potatoes or fruit or something up your backside?”
“It was a fungus,” Fred tried to explain. “By the time I went to see her I had developed a fungus that itched like shite. Not like shite but like hell.”
“Her?” His friend roared with laughter. “You went to see a woman doctor about an itchy arse and she thought you had been shoving items up. Jesus how embarrassing.”
Fred dropped his eyes and a flush began to rise from the neck upwards.
“What?” his friend demanded. “What? There’s more? What happened?”
Fred could not help but look sheepish. “She had an intern with her,” he responded. “A girl who looked like she was still in her teens. Bloody hell.”
“And they both bent down and had a good look up your backside. The woman doctor and the young girl. Bloody marvellous. I’ve got to put this up on Twitter.”
“Do and you’re dead,” threatened Fred.
His friend spent the next few minutes taunting Fred but finally promised not to tell anyone else about the awkward rectum examination.
“OK,” he said after a time. “So you want me to try different inks to see what would work? In other words ink that won’t make a human’s bum look like a baboon and won’t cause itching distress?”
“Yes,” Fred agreed.
“OK. But I’m not going to spend too much time on it. I think your idea is a non-starter, but I’ll give it a go. A bit of a go.”
“Thanks,” said Fred. “That’s all I ask. How long will it take?
“Give me a week. I have a few things to clear first.”
“OK then.”
As he was leaving his friend could not resist. “See you baboon butt.”
Fred thought it best to ignore him.