Tuesday. Laundry day! He whistled cheerfully,

Tuesday. Laundry day! He whistled cheerfully, calling "Off to the laundrymat" & closing the door before his wife could answer. The laundrylady never spoke rotating the "Back Later"

Whistling, he sorted his lights and darks. "Oh, crumbs! I need change." He tried to open the door but it was locked. The street outside was deserted. Pretty odd for a Tuesday morn,

he thought - then hurriedly appended an "ing" to the end of his internal monologue. He hated the word "morn". The door still wouldn't open, and he was getting desperate to get out,

so he gathered up his bedsheats and formed them into an escape rope which he then used to get out through the window. Now he could rid the world of his mother, and once again

she called out to him, "Arthur! You dirty little beast! I'll cut it off! I swear to god you filthy little boy I'll cut it off if you ever soil yourself again!" He looked up at her

and shat an entire banana split. Literally two bananas, three scoops of ice cream and a cherry came out his anus like an Octo-mom surprise. Her emotions were breakdancing

by depositing it out the nearest window of the 10-story building. Down it descended, feces and fruit and glass bowl and spoon. 10. 9. 8. 7. 6. 5. 4. 3. 1. It shattered on

the toll taker's head, which fell on the "pass" button. The cars sped through, their drivers praising the Fruit Poops' sacrifice for the sake of their convenience. The extra money

they all saved was donated to charity and eventually used to end world hunger. Turns out those $1.50 tolls really added up.