To my dearest Isabel: I am so sorry to have to leave you this way. As humans must one day break down and return to the Earth, so to must toilets — imperfect machines as any. I know you might be wondering if something could have been done, if perhaps I could have been fixed and saved rather than tossed out and replaced, as is the standard in your mother’s (and all adults’, you’ll soon learn) throwaway culture. I am unsure of the answer, as I am, after all, merely a toilet, but let me ask you this: Did I seem fine to you? Was I flushing regularly? Was my body stable, without so much as one dent? Did my problems seem systemic, or were there maybe just one or two things that we could’ve brought in a plumber to take a look at? Did your mother recently get New Toilet Magazine in the mail which she flipped through eagerly, her mouth watering like a dog’s mouth, abandoning all loyalty she once had to a toilet that has served her family for years? I’m sorry, Isabel. I’m getting emotional, but it’s true that this is the way life has to go sometimes. We have to say goodbye to the people we love the most, and it is true, Isabel, that I love you the most. You have been a kind friend and I won’t soon forget you — I hope you’ll say the same of me. Goodbye, Isabel. Keep your chin up. Love, Toilet.

“Are you filming me?” “No.” LIAR! LIAR LIAR LIAR! It is one thing to lie to your child about filming her in order to have a home movie that you can show her and laugh about when she is older, but to lie to your child about filming her in order to put the video on the Internet? Shame on you! GO TO THE DUMP AND GET HER BACK THAT TOILET, IT’S ONLY FAIR! GO TO THE DUMP! (Via Abroath.)