The Centerville, Utah, branch of the national hamburger chain Carl's Jr. (AKA The Place that Launched a 1000 Shits)
recently held a memorial service for "John", a cherished men's room toilet whose time on Earth was cut mercifully short by a clumsy customer who
busted a crap, then a cap, in the fool.
In what has become known as The Shot Heard 'Round the Whirled, John was obliterated by the one lead missile he wasn't built to handle -- a 40-caliber slug inadvertently fired when a patron's handgun fell to the floor as he hiked up his pants.
CPR (Complete Porcelain Reassembly) efforts proved futile, but reports that a weeping manager cradled the dying appliance in his arms until the darkness came are nothing but wishful thinking on my part. The beloved toilet, once up to his rim in turds, was now simply interred, leaving a distraught urinal and a constantly dripping sink behind. Naturally, the role of picking up the pieces fell squarely on the shoulders of a dejected janitor.
The services commemorating John's service were reportedly a solemn affair, with heartbreaking renditions of traditional shitcan funeral dirges Amazing Grease, When the Toilet Roll is Called Up Yonder, and The Wind Beneath My Thighs ringing out to the heavens. Then, for the first time in his wretched existence, John experienced a moment of silence not sandwiched between thunderclap dumps.
Carl's Jr. will no doubt dispatch a team of beef counselors to the area to assist the bereaved and the hungry in coping with their loss. Perhaps the grief-stricken will find solace knowing that, after playing host to more vile bodily fluids than George Michaels' esophagus, wherever he is, John is in a better place now.
As you were so often in life, John, in death you will be missed.
