"What kind of G-forces?" Myx asked?
"What?" I astutely replied.
"What kind of pressure does someone's butt have to exert on a toilet seat to snap off the tip of it like that? What kind of pain, tension, or strain would cause enough squirming or writhing to tear off a chunk of plastic that big?"
The sight had filled Myx with questions, and I had to admit, it did make one wonder about the possibilities.
"I don't think the damage came from sitting on it," I said. "Nobody's butt is that strong. Although, I knew a girl--"
"I could have fallen in the bowl, yanno." Myx didn't seem to be interested in my reminiscences.
"You were perfectly balanced there. And besides, I know how to dry a book out," I said.
One Christmas I had gotten a book about the mystic, Gurdjieff. While still wrapped and under the tree, an unfortunate accident had happened. Kids tipped the tree over, and this was a real one. Mr. Gurdieff drank up the water that spilled from the tree stand.
The book swelled to three times its thickness, and squashing and microwaving got it dried out and down to two times its original thickness. It was never much fun to read in that state. I determined that microwaving a book was a bad idea.
"I know how to perfectly restore a wet book," I said.
"How?" Myx asked.
"Microwaving!" Lying, sometimes is a good idea.
Miracle Myx
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