Mama and Papa were thrilled to be rid of Jean in the bathroom. Papa needed a good toot, and Mama was happy to oblige. So Jean waited outside while the two of them bumped and ground in the Bear Country latrine. Jean wasn't bored; he was developing his theory: the world needed Disney in order to classify and separate real from imaginary. A janitor with a mop-pail pushed past Jean.

" 'Scuse me little boy," The guy croaked. He had only a few yellowed teeth, like Jean's grandpere. Mama and Papa kept at the deed while the janitor gawked and began to twitch and foam.

I usually CLOSE the bathroom door at least.
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