I row through the Underground, navigating past the Ordure Ocean, the Beeyem Bay, the Sea of Shit. I’m a regular Crap Mariner, sailing the sewers like Jason and the Cacanauts.
After all these years, I’ve gotten used to the reek. Almost.
Life was different once. You might remember me: I was the Ty-D-Bowl Man.
With my blazer and jaunty captain’s cap, I’d paddle around in toilet tanks, freaking out the housewives. You’d freak too, if you found a little dude rowing a boat in your tank. Great gig while it lasted.
Lousy defective flapper valve.
I still miss my cap.
After all these years, I’ve gotten used to the reek. Almost.
Life was different once. You might remember me: I was the Ty-D-Bowl Man.
With my blazer and jaunty captain’s cap, I’d paddle around in toilet tanks, freaking out the housewives. You’d freak too, if you found a little dude rowing a boat in your tank. Great gig while it lasted.
Lousy defective flapper valve.
I still miss my cap.
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