If not, be sure you flush.
An angry memory returns to haunt me in the form of a fish colony blossoming in the bottom of my toilette. The gold fish, now apparently called 'Tohndar' by his followers, rules the potty with an iron fist -he organizes, plans, commands, and decides who is expendable by a simple twist down of his pectoral fin.
I honestly do not know if Tohndar and his army of zombie fishes will succeed in what appears to be an evil plan to build a stronghold in the toilette. However, if they do, it seems the first stage is to develop a way of abandoning the water of the potty and, from there, take over the world. Or at least of my apartment.
Needless to say, I have developed alternative habits when it boils down to fulfilling those body functions crowning the digestive process. The toilette is no longer an option.
To be continued...