more about me and Bonnie, read the story ‘Selby Lovestruck’ in the book
Selby Snowbound.
S
SOOP-ADOOP-ALOO
‘What? Tear down the public toilet at the sports ground?’ Aunt Jetty gasped. ‘You can’t just ditch a dunny like that!’
‘We have to,’ Mrs Trifle said. ‘It gets vandalised every week. The council can’t afford to keep fixing it.’
Selby peered out from under the lounge as Aunt Jetty’s dreadful son, Willy, and his equally dreadful brother, Billy, ran around the house looking for him.
‘Where’s that doggy?’ Willy squealed as he tore by. ‘I’m gonna get him!’
‘You can’t just get rid of a toilet because someone paints a rude word or two on the walls,’Aunt Jetty said. ‘Willy and Billy play footie at that field every weekend. How are they supposed to go to the loo if there’s no loo to go to?’
‘They can wait till they get home,’ said Mrs Trifle.
‘You’re the mayor,’ Aunt Jetty said. ‘Get a council worker to paint over the graffiti every now and then.’
‘It’s not just graffiti. Someone is plugging up the toilet, too.’
‘With what?’
‘Sticks, frisbies, school uniforms, you name it.’
‘Then catch them and have them arrested.’
‘I’m not going to ask a police officer to hide in the loo all week hoping to catch the culprit. I’m sorry but it’s going to be goodbye PCRF.’
‘PC what?’
‘PCRF. That’s council talk. Our technical name for a public toilet is a Public Convenience Relief Facility.’
Later, when Aunt Jetty and her sons were safely out of the house, Selby crawled out from under the lounge, and Dr Trifle emerged from his workroom.
‘Did I hear you say that you were going to dump the dunny at the sports ground?’ Dr Trifle asked.
‘I’m afraid so.’
‘Well I’ve been doing a lot of thinking about toilets recently and it seems to me that what the world needs is an un-graffiti-able, un-plug-up-able public loo.’
‘I’m sure that’s true.’
‘Well you may be interested to hear that I’ve already drawn up the plans and I was just about to make the first one.’
‘What a wonderful coincidence,’ Mrs Trifle said.
‘That’s what I love about Dr Trifle,’ Selby thought. ‘While other inventors are thinking about computers and space travel, he invents inventions that really matter to people. While their heads are in the clouds, his head is in the toilet. Only I’m not sure that’s the right way to say it.’
Two weeks later Mrs Trifle came home to find Dr Trifle in the backyard standing next to a big square metal box taller than he was.
‘Have a look at my newly invented SDP for the PCRF at the sports ground,’ Dr Trifle said, flinging open the door and revealing the very strange looking toilet inside.
‘Your SDP?’ Mrs Trifle said with a frown.
‘My Super Duper Pooper,’ Dr Trifle said.
‘Oh, I’m not sure about the name. Perhaps you could call it an SDL,’ Mrs Trifle said. ‘A Super Duper Loo. Even better, make it an SAA: a Soop-Adoop-Aloo.’
‘That sounds good,’ Dr Trifle said, handing Mrs Trifle a can of spray paint. ‘Now step inside and write something rude on the wall.’
Mrs Trifle stepped into the loo and sprayed the words DR TRIFLE IS A — and then stopped.
‘What’s wrong?’
‘I can’t write anything rude about you dear. Besides, I don’t know any rude words.’
‘Oh, go ahead. You’ll think of something.’
Mrs Trifle hesitated and then finished the sentence. It said:
DR TRIFLE IS A SILLY BOTTOM
‘Charming,’ he mumbled. ‘So that’s what you think of me.’
‘I don’t really think you’re a silly bottom, dear,’ Mrs Trifle said. ‘In fact you’re a very clever bottom.’
‘Okay, watch this,’ Dr Trifle said.
Suddenly there was a gurgling and a bubbling and water streamed down the inside of the walls washing Mrs Trifle’s words away.
‘That’s fantastic!’ Selby thought. ‘Automatic self-cleaning toilet walls! Dr Trifle is
Selby Snowbound.
S
SOOP-ADOOP-ALOO
‘What? Tear down the public toilet at the sports ground?’ Aunt Jetty gasped. ‘You can’t just ditch a dunny like that!’
‘We have to,’ Mrs Trifle said. ‘It gets vandalised every week. The council can’t afford to keep fixing it.’
Selby peered out from under the lounge as Aunt Jetty’s dreadful son, Willy, and his equally dreadful brother, Billy, ran around the house looking for him.
‘Where’s that doggy?’ Willy squealed as he tore by. ‘I’m gonna get him!’
‘You can’t just get rid of a toilet because someone paints a rude word or two on the walls,’Aunt Jetty said. ‘Willy and Billy play footie at that field every weekend. How are they supposed to go to the loo if there’s no loo to go to?’
‘They can wait till they get home,’ said Mrs Trifle.
‘You’re the mayor,’ Aunt Jetty said. ‘Get a council worker to paint over the graffiti every now and then.’
‘It’s not just graffiti. Someone is plugging up the toilet, too.’
‘With what?’
‘Sticks, frisbies, school uniforms, you name it.’
‘Then catch them and have them arrested.’
‘I’m not going to ask a police officer to hide in the loo all week hoping to catch the culprit. I’m sorry but it’s going to be goodbye PCRF.’
‘PC what?’
‘PCRF. That’s council talk. Our technical name for a public toilet is a Public Convenience Relief Facility.’
Later, when Aunt Jetty and her sons were safely out of the house, Selby crawled out from under the lounge, and Dr Trifle emerged from his workroom.
‘Did I hear you say that you were going to dump the dunny at the sports ground?’ Dr Trifle asked.
‘I’m afraid so.’
‘Well I’ve been doing a lot of thinking about toilets recently and it seems to me that what the world needs is an un-graffiti-able, un-plug-up-able public loo.’
‘I’m sure that’s true.’
‘Well you may be interested to hear that I’ve already drawn up the plans and I was just about to make the first one.’
‘What a wonderful coincidence,’ Mrs Trifle said.
‘That’s what I love about Dr Trifle,’ Selby thought. ‘While other inventors are thinking about computers and space travel, he invents inventions that really matter to people. While their heads are in the clouds, his head is in the toilet. Only I’m not sure that’s the right way to say it.’
Two weeks later Mrs Trifle came home to find Dr Trifle in the backyard standing next to a big square metal box taller than he was.
‘Have a look at my newly invented SDP for the PCRF at the sports ground,’ Dr Trifle said, flinging open the door and revealing the very strange looking toilet inside.
‘Your SDP?’ Mrs Trifle said with a frown.
‘My Super Duper Pooper,’ Dr Trifle said.
‘Oh, I’m not sure about the name. Perhaps you could call it an SDL,’ Mrs Trifle said. ‘A Super Duper Loo. Even better, make it an SAA: a Soop-Adoop-Aloo.’
‘That sounds good,’ Dr Trifle said, handing Mrs Trifle a can of spray paint. ‘Now step inside and write something rude on the wall.’
Mrs Trifle stepped into the loo and sprayed the words DR TRIFLE IS A — and then stopped.
‘What’s wrong?’
‘I can’t write anything rude about you dear. Besides, I don’t know any rude words.’
‘Oh, go ahead. You’ll think of something.’
Mrs Trifle hesitated and then finished the sentence. It said:
DR TRIFLE IS A SILLY BOTTOM
‘Charming,’ he mumbled. ‘So that’s what you think of me.’
‘I don’t really think you’re a silly bottom, dear,’ Mrs Trifle said. ‘In fact you’re a very clever bottom.’
‘Okay, watch this,’ Dr Trifle said.
Suddenly there was a gurgling and a bubbling and water streamed down the inside of the walls washing Mrs Trifle’s words away.
‘That’s fantastic!’ Selby thought. ‘Automatic self-cleaning toilet walls! Dr Trifle is
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