The Mystery of the Pink Portaloo

The mystery of the Pink Portaloo

Wondering through the somewhat dull and lifeless city that is Swansea, I find myself stumbling across a pink portaloo. Plonked in the middle of the street like someone had simply forgotten about it and left it there, an anomaly to the surrounding grey concrete that it was immersed in. Where did you come from pink portaloo? My mind begins to wonder as I stare from a distance, wild theories flying through my head. Are you a magical passage way into a pink paradise, like Narnia had been taken over by Dolores Umbridge? Or a Tardis disguised a pink toilet, owned by an over eccentric time lord, ever so subtly travelling through time and space? A secret door to an elite bar, a neon wonderland of candy floss and flamingos? An avant garde exhibition, showcasing the worlds most famous artists, a tribute to all things pink in fashion and modern society? I need to approach, to fulfil my curiosity. I reach out for the door and clamp onto the handle, my heart and mind racing. Maybe this mysterious pink toilet was going to open a world of pink dreams and change my life forever. I can’t take the excitement. The door creeks open and…

It’s a toilet. It’s a fucking toilet.

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