“Kurt Barlow knocked on the door in front of him, and when it opened to reveal a perplexed woman in her mid-forties, he launched into his appeal. ‘I am a private sort of vampire,’ he explained, ‘and I need complete privacy in order to go to the bathroom. I am planning on urinating at nine this evening in the park over yonder, and if possible, could I count on you not to look in that general direction at that time so that I may relieve myself in peace?’ The woman agreed. Kurt Barlow thanked her and then walked over to the next house on the block, and after that, he walked to the next house, and then the next house, and the next house, and so on until he had knocked on the door of every house in town. Only when he was certain that no one at all was looking would he be able to relieve himself privately, by hanging upside down and peeing all over his own face and dress shirt.”

“Fed up with waiting, Kurt Barlow cleared his throat self-consciously and opened the door to the bathroom coffin. It was unoccupied. He had been standing in line for twelve hours under the impression that someone else was using the facilities, but, as he stepped into the bathroom coffin and shut the door behind him, it occurred to Kurt Barlow that he was the only vampire in town.”

“Bladder full of human blood from feasting mightily on the townspeople, Kurt Barlow cast about for a place to relieve himself and found a porta-potty, abandoned but still in working condition. ‘Give it a good shake for me,’ he instructed his human assistant as he climbed inside and transformed into a bat and began slamming against the walls of the outhouse. ‘A real good shake to knock it all out of me.’”

“Pennywise followed the boy to the schoolyard, and, when he was certain the teacher was watching mindfully over the playing children and giving little of her attention elsewhere, stole into the school’s faculty room and grabbed the laminating device. ‘I will seal my shit between these two thin layers of plastic,’ he declared with vigor, ‘and in doing so, I will be immortalized.’”

“Pennywise crouched down to the ground and dug a small hole in the dirt with his hands. He then positioned his nose over the hole and sneezed, unleashing a great torrent of piss, as this was the way he was wired to piss. Once he finished, he filled in the piss-hole with soil and planted a small American flag so that, should he ever get a girlfriend and want to show her where he liked to piss, he could find it later.”

“Pennywise boarded the plane and, after placing his carry-on in a bin above him, headed immediately to the back, where he entered the lavatory. He would stay inside for the duration of the flight from Maine to Phoenix, and on the return flight as well, though he knew other passengers also needed to use the bathroom. He simply did not care.”

“Cujo drooled on the sterile metal operating table, rabidly growling at the veterinarian who was injecting him with a cocktail of sedatives. The world began to darken around him, narrowing to a pinpoint before being snuffed out completely. When he woke, he would be neutered and bladderless, physically unable to urinate. The urine would just collect inside of him, and he would swell up into a colossal water-balloon-like sphere of urine, making it so that he couldn’t walk. He would just have to roll everywhere.”

“Cujo had made the long trek from Maine to Washington, D.C. with but one goal in mind: to take a shit on the White House lawn in order to make a political statement.”

“With his belly fully of human meat, Cujo very badly needed to take a shit. But he couldn’t just yet—he would have to wait until nightfall. He would have to wait because, in his fevered state, he believed that his turds were eggs, and he feared that if he pinched them out while there was still daylight, humans would find them and steal them. He needed to protect his eggs so that beautiful puppies could hatch out of them, or even better, a beautiful wife. Wives come from eggs, he told himself, nodding dutifully. I must keep eggs safe. Over the next several hours, the toxic pressure of the feces in Cujo’s bowels grew steadily until it was nearly unbearable, yet even as the sky faded to pink, then purple, he refused to relent to the agony. Finally, just as he felt he could hold it in no longer, the sky turned black. It was safe to shit. Cujo emerged from the cluster of trees where he’d been hiding and eagerly sniffed around for a secure place to do his deed. He found himself wandering across the warm asphalt of a parking lot, where he soon stumbled upon a Blockbuster Video. He eyed the metal deposit drawer on the building’s exterior and reasoned that it would probably be a good place to store his eggs. He pulled the drawer ajar with his teeth; squatted down on his haunches; and positioned his large, impressive asshole over the opening. And then, with the violent force of a howitzer, he blasted, like, thirty turds into the drawer. The turds were immense and wet, like washed heads of lettuce, and Cujo enjoyed the sensation of them rocketing from his asshole. Yet little did he know, the Blockbuster was still open, and inside the store a dozen or so customers and employees were pressed against the window, marveling at the spectacular avalanche of shit. This was foolish, however, because once Cujo saw the people, he would surely eat them and turn them into even more precious eggs.”

“Satisfied, Christine drove up the 405 and merged onto the 101 going north toward Eureka, defecating freely, turds tumbling about the asphalt in her rearview.”

“Christine pulled up outside Pemberton’s Auto Mechanic at 4 p.m., as she always did. Hydraulics hissed and groaned as the lift raised Christine slowly into the air with the other cars, and several grease-covered mechanics eagerly scurried over and positioned themselves beneath her undercarriage. ‘Clean us off! Clean us off!’ they cried. Christine obliged the men, blasting them with a mighty stream of car-piss that washed away all of their grime, leaving them squeaky clean and dapper, ready for a glamorous night on the town with their homely blue-collar wives.”

“It was a month to the day that she got caught in the speed trap that Christine appeared in court to contest the ticket. She revved her engine, then idled slowly into place behind the witness stand, where she forcefully relieved herself.”