Art I like Second floor toilets
You think about doing your makeup. Looking in the mirror, you decide that you might as well apply some beauty products to yourself. Surprisingly, the results are satisfying. You look great!
Using the drying machine, you expunge all the water from your hands. They are now dryer than the Sahara.
Despite everything, it's still you.
On further inspection, you decide you look really good.
You step over to the basin and wash your hands. You can see your face in the mirror, but you've not quite sure what to think. After a quick scrub, they are entirely clean.
You press the button and are met with a blast of warm air. This appears to be for drying your bum after using the bidet function.
You hear a clinking noise below you. A diamond emerges from the toilet bowl. You reach down to grab it, but it floats down behind the U-bend.
This button does nothing except play a short classical piece.
You appear to be stuck inside a painting frame on the first floor. It appears there is no way to get out - this is your life now. At least there's a cat.
You press the button and are met with a blast of warm air. This isn't the heating button, though. A panel opens on the roof, and you are launched several hundred metres into the air. Unfortunately, you are moving too fast to see much, and the toilet soon descends.
You turn the heat all the way down. It's a little chilly, but not hugely cold.
You turn the heat all the way up. Unfortunately, this leads to the toilet catching fire. You rush out of the stall - but it is too late. You have succumbed to smoke inhalation.
There's quite a few buttons there. You decide to limit yourself to the ones you already noticed, otherwise you'd be there all day.
You enter one of the stalls and "get to work". You decide that before you leave, it'd be fun to fiddle with the toilet's functions a little.
- Ignore your temptations and leave to wash your hands.
- Turn the heat all the way up.
- Turn the heat all the way down.
- Press the button that has a rocket.
- Press the button that has a framed painting.
- Press the button that has a music note.
- Press the button that has a diamond.
- Press the button that looks like waves.
The existence of a tertiary bathroom makes you feel affronted. All the lodestones of Western civilisation are crumbling! You kneel down, clutching your head, and start crying great, ruinous tears. Who will stop the decadent soyboy manlets from assuming their cucked "third genders"? Who will stop the ivory-tower university professors from commanding once-proud men to cut off their members? Who will save the West from itself?
The cleaning staff soon arrive and chuck you in the trash where you belong.
The poster describes a trial of this really advanced "Washlet" toilet. Apparently, it has a bidet, a heated seat, adjustable back, and a bunch of other functions.
With your gender-neutral hands, you open the door. This bathroom is empty, which makes sense, as not many people need to use it. Still, it's great having a space where you can be yourself. There's a few stalls to the left, and to the right are a bunch of handbasins. On the far wall is a poster.
It's still a little weird how there's a "Piano Room", but you decide to sit down and play the piano anyway. You could do with a break.
...but unfortunately, it seems like the piano is out of tune.
You enter the "Piano Room". There is, unsurprisingly, a piano, and not much else. The walls are lined with gaudy papering, and equally unattractive and dainty rugs line the floor.
You don't really want to hang around here much longer. It smells a bit of burnt metal, and you still feel like having a nap...
You gaze into the mirror. Now is the perfect time to improve your look by putting on some makeup. You look a bit scratched up - but still great all things considered!
You place your hands underneath the drying machine. It successfully removes all traces of hydrogen dioxide from your hands.
You make your way to the closest basin, and turn on the taps. Your hands are soon clean, revealing a few scars. It was a difficult fight.
You've exhausted from your hard-earned victory over the tampon machine, and decide to leave and have a nap. But your hands are still covered in bits of scrap metal...
You deal 160 damage, extinguishing the Tampon Machine! You Win!
Your items are:
950HP
????????10HP
Tampon MachineUnfortunately, you can't use magic...
950HP
????????10HP
Tampon MachineYou manage to evade the Tampon Machine! You Win!
You deal 150 damage! Tampon Machine attacks back, and deals 20 damage!
950HP
????????10HP
Tampon MachineUnfortunately, you can't use magic...
970HP
????????160HP
Tampon MachineThe Tampon Machine is scared of the Handbag, and runs away! You Win!
Your items are:
970HP
????????160HP
Tampon MachineYou can't flee....
970HP
????????160HP
Tampon Machine
It's that time of month. You walk over to the tampon machine, but it has an out-of-order sign on it. Just as well you have one left in your handbag. Suddenly, it emits a growling sound...
Tampon Machine attacks!
970HP
????????160HP
Tampon MachineBefore you go, you have the nagging feeling that there might be just one more thing to do. Maybe you should try out the piano room?
You gaze into the mirror. Now is as good a time as any to improve your look by applying a variety of beauty products to yourself. The results are satisfying. You look great!
You place your hands underneath the drying machine. It successfully removes all traces of hydrogen dioxide from your hands.
You make your way over to one of the basins, and turn on the taps. Before you know it, your hands are in immaculate condition.
You have successfully used the toilet. Congratulations! Now it is time to move on to newer and greater things.
You continue unspooling the toilet paper, convinced that the extant amount is unsatisfying. Before you realise, you are neck-deep in toilet paper. Soon, all you can see is swirls of white paper. This does not seem to be a situation you can extricate yourself from.
This seems to work quite well. Satisfied with your handicraft, you are now ready to exit.
You unspool a large amount of toilet paper, but you aren't quite sure of how best to arrange the product.
Despite everything, it's still you.
You enter one of the stalls. It is a perfectly normal stall, containing a toilet, a small mirror, and a toilet paper dispenser. Unsurprisingly, you manage to "deliver the mail" without any issue.
You gently open the door, and are greeted with a well-kept cavernous room. To your left are stalls, and to your right are a rows of washbasins, each with individual mirrors. The walls are a pastel pink, and spherical lanterns hang from the arched roof. At the far end of the room is a tampon dispenser, and much to your surprise, a door labeled "Piano Room".
You place your hands under the electric dryer. They are now devoid of water.
Scrub-a-dubba-dub! You immerse your hands in water, follow it by soap, and then more water. They now feel like a baby's bottom.
Since you failed to wash your hands, you immediately fall victim to a highly dangerous pathogen. In what seems like an instant, you fall over and die.
You have done what needs to be done. You should really wash your hands now.
"Are you alright, sugar? This isn't the men's bathroom". You are now in your grandmother's house. The smell of cookies wafts from the oven. It doesn't look like you are leaving anytime soon...
You attempt to knock over your Granny, despite such an action being highly immoral. What would your, uhm, other grandmother think? She quickly counters with her cane, and you are knocked to the floor. It's over. All over. What an embarrassing way to go...
You slip past her successfully. You quickly make your way to the door... but there is no door. You have to confront her, and only one thing is on your mind.
She seems to forgive you. There is a burning question at the forefront of your mind though...
You exit the stall, and encounter your grandmother. She is not very happy.
Wow! You've so cool and mature! A true rebel!
You successfully effectively erase the message by turning it into a splotch of ink. This weakens the structural integrity of the stall wall to such a degree that it falls over and flattens you.
Somehow, you end up writing another that reaffirms the original.
It appears you are unable to remove it. As far as you can tell, it is virtually indelible.
Inscribing a political message feels very satisfying. However, your bad handwriting makes it seem like you are advocating the message of the opposing political side! This cannot be.
The landscape scene looks beautiful. You continue adding details, adding trees, dells, and a babbling brook. Up above them is a night sky speckled with twinkling stars. You are a true artist.
Fortunately, you cannot bring yourself to say something so heinous and untrue. Looks like you'll have to do something else.
This is a gallery, after all. You figure you may as well add an item to the collection. A few ideas come to mind.
You try to give the stall door a gentle shove. It comes loose and gives you a less gentle shove. You pass out.
You enter a stall and "unload the car", so to speak. Much better.
With your masculine hands, you tear open the door. This bathroom is usually the hunting ground for an exclusive cadre of alpha males - but it happens to be empty today. How disappointing. All that is there is the usual bathroom stuff: to your left are some stalls, and to the right, a row of basins.
You enter the restroom door and encounter three more doors in front of you, each corresponding to a gender.