By bookshelfbattle	Son of Toilet Gator, Uncategorized
Son of Toilet Gator – Chapter 5
Twenty minutes passed before Smegma knocked on the restroom door. "Darling?"
"Go away!" Bonanza cried between sobs and sniffles. "And stop calling me 'darling!'"
"Right," Smegma replied. "I suppose we should keep it professional, Attorney Bonanza."
"That would be best, Agent Smegma. What we did was a one-time thing and should never happen again."
"As you wish. And for what it's worth, I apologize to your future self for whatever negative feelings she may vis a vis our recent act of en flagrante delicto."
Bonanza laughed. "Don't you patronize me with your patriarchical bullshit."
"Pardon?"
"As a strong, independent woman, I made a choice to have sex with you out of my own free will and I shouldn't be made to feel ashamed for it."
"I never said you should feel that way," Smegma said.
"You, however…"
Smegma rolled his eyes. "Oh, here we go."
"…should feel very ashamed in the future when I decide of my own volition that you acted shamefully and it will be my prerogative to tell the world about what you did."
"As in the act that you currently approved of but will later disapprove of?" Smegma asked.
"Precisely."
"Attorney Bonanza," Smegma said. "In forty years, I'll be lucky if I don't fall asleep during my retirement home's bingo game, assuming I haven't already been killed by one of the numerous international criminals who have set their sights on me."
"You'll be alive," Bonanza said. "Madame Olga is never wrong."
"Bah," Smegma said. "An old gypsy woman's opinion and a dollar will get you a cup of coffee."
"Racist."
"'Gypsy' is an offensive term," Bonanza explained. "The politically correct term is, 'Psychically Empowered Countryside Wanderers of Romani Descent."
Smegma closed his eyes and slapped his forehead. "Jesus H. Fuck."
"Now isn't the time to pushed your outdated Christian dogma on me, Agent Smegma."
"What? That wasn't even what I was trying to…"
"As an attorney for the human resources department of the Central Intelligence Agency, it's my job to make sure that all field operatives are as woke as humanly possible and frankly, Agent Smegma, on a historical scale, your wokeness level falls somewhere between a T-Rex and a brontosaurus."
"You're a dinosaur," Bonanza said. "You should have gone extinct, long ago. Millennials are taking over the workface and soon enough, they'll replace you."
Smegma laughed. "Yeah, right. I'd love to see one of those neck-bearded, man bun wearing soy boys beta cucks fuck a villain's moll until she starts screaming out intel of vital importance to national security."
"Agent Smegma! That's…"
"They'd probably just invite her to join a drum circle, make her a chai latte, then apologize to her for having a dick and invite her to chop it off with a rusty…"
Smegma nodded. "Very well."
The agent took a few steps away from the bathroom door, then stopped. "Attorney Bonanza?"
"Ugh! What now?"
"All I have been trying to say is that the idea of you being stuck in that bathroom all the way to Langley saddens me and it is completely unnecessary."
"You say that now," Bonanza said. "But future me says otherwise."
"We'll figure out how to make her happy later," Smegma said. "Until then, I hope you'll feel free to return your seat. I assure you, I shall put all my charms on low power mode and no more unprofessional acts of an unsavory nature will take place. You have my word."
Bonanza was quiet for a moment. She spoke up once more. "That's uncharacteristically gentlemanly of you. Give me a minute. I'll be right out after I….ACCCCKKKK!"
Tagged Son of Toilet Gator, Toilet Gator