A brief story of Izal toilet paper and the cubicle of pain

Hold that poo!

I WOULD dread it! The thought of heading into the grey chilly cubicle would make me tremble. I’d hold my breath and clench my buttocks hoping to hold out until home time. It’s 2pm: only an hour and a half to go but I’m bursting! Can I make it? No… yes… maybe…

Keep clenching, take slow deep breaths, don’t think about it – instead think about making it home and finding relief in the smallest room in the house.

I exit the cubicle of pain walking like I’ve been shot in the backside.

Gotta go!

It’s no good, I give into the sensation and my hand shoots up requesting permission to go to the cubicle of pain.

I enter the cubicle like a boy heading into the headmasters office for six of the best. I enter, and my enemy is there, innocently hanging from the dispenser roll. I hesitantly lock the door behind me and drop my trousers before carefully placing my bum on the chilly black toilet seat.

Torture time!

Business completed and poo flushed away. I shiver as I know this is when the innocent looking enemy bursts into life and inflicts punishment that will torment me for hours. I reel-off a strip and my hand shakes like I’m receiving an electric shock. I wipe and cringe as coarseness of the toilet paper runs on my bum. One strip is not enough so I reel off another one; more coarseness and more pain on my innocent bum!

I exit the cubicle of pain walking like I’ve been shot in the backside. I get back to my desk and sit down gingerly. I can hear my torturer on the roll giggling-away in the distance.

Where was the Andrex dog to save me?

Beyond Evil!

Dr Izal you are wicked! You showed no remorse and the pain from your torture session lasted for hours! You should be banned from all school toilets and your toilet surgery shut down! Dr Izal, I’m glad I’ll never ever set foot in your cubicle of pain again!

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Further essential retro reading:

  1. Supermarket Sweep
  2. Guinness: straplines, strength and goodness
  3. Kleenex Velvet toilet tissue and some alternatives

2 thoughts on “A brief story of Izal toilet paper and the cubicle of pain”

  1. Believe it or not, when I started secondary school in 2004, Izal was still being used. I used to dread having to go, and the line “a fine strong tissue” is an outright lie because your fingers would tear straight through the awful stuff.

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