brilliant!’
‘How did you do that?’ Mrs Trifle asked.
‘Simple. The walls are painted with my newly invented anti-graffiti paint, Graff-Rid. The Loo-Brain does the rest.’
‘The Loo-Brain?’
‘That’s what I call my automatic control system. When someone puts paint on the walls it knows it and sends special chemicals streaming down to wash it off.’
‘But what if the vandals scratch the words in the paint?’
‘Try it,’ Dr Trifle said, handing Mrs Trifle a nail.
Mrs Trifle tried to scratch her name into the paint but couldn’t.
‘Goodness!’ she exclaimed. ‘This paint is very hard.’
‘Graff-Rid is made with a powder of the same super hard metals as space vehicles. This paint would stop a rocket.’
‘Dr Trifle has to be the smartest person in the whole world!’ Selby thought. ‘No one else could make a loo that would stop a rocket?!’
‘This is all absolutely wonderful, dear,’ Mrs Trifle said. ‘But the biggest problem with the PCRF at the sports ground is that someone is plugging it up.’
‘I’ve thought of that,’ Dr Trifle said, handing Mrs Trifle an old worn out beach towel. ‘Go ahead, flush this down the loo.’
Mrs Trifle threw the towel into the toilet and flushed. For a minute the water rose. Then there was a sudden series of sucking and gushing noises followed by a big gulp and a huge burping noise as the towel disappeared.
‘Why that’s wonderful!’ Mrs Trifle exclaimed. ‘But what about bigger things?’
‘This big?’ Dr Trifle asked, handing her a basketball.
‘That’s silly. A basketball can’t fit down a loo.’
‘Try it.’
Mrs Trifle put the basketball into the toiletand flushed. Selby and the Trifles watched and listened as the water rose. The series of sucking and gurgling noises increased and, finally, with the basketball stuck firmly in the bottom of the toilet, there was a huge
pop!
and the ball shot out of the toilet followed by a gush of water.
‘It didn’t flush,’ Mrs Trifle said.
‘But it didn’t clog up either. If something refuses to go down the hole then the pressure reverses and it pushes it out. The Loo-Brain has a mind of its own which makes this toilet unplugable. Well it’s not a
mind
mind, just a little doover that ticks over when the pressure gets up to the red zone. Then the whole cycle goes into flip-flop mode and then
whammo splasho ploppo
out comes the basketball. It’s a flush or fling toilet.’
‘Heavens!’ Mrs Trifle exclaimed, looking at the wet spots on her blouse. ‘I think I’ve been splashed with you-know-what from the toilet!’
‘It’s just a jet of clean water. I keep the pressure gauge low so that no you-know-what or even what-do-you-call-'ems can come back out.’
‘Well that’s a relief,’ Mrs Trifle said.
‘Oh, and I forgot to tell you that when the system flip-flops, a vandal alarm rings. Another one goes off in the police station so the police can come running and catch the culprit.’
‘You are a marvel,’ Mrs Trifle said, giving her husband a big hug. ‘Will your SAA be ready to put in the PCRF in time for Saturday’s kiddies’ footie match?’
‘Absolutely.’
Sure enough, the following Saturday Selby followed Dr and Mrs Trifle down the street to the sports ground where the Soop-Adoop-Aloo had been installed earlier that morning. He hid in the bushes and watched Willy and Billy play in the weekly footie match. Afterwards, as the crowd was leaving, he saw Dr Trifle go into the loo and come out again.
‘No one’s tried to damage it,’ he reported. ‘So I guess it wasn’t much of a test.’
‘No one’s going to try any funny business while there are so many people around,’ Mrs Trifle said. ‘The moment we leave, I’ll bet the vandals will strike. Jetty,’ she said turning toher sister, ‘how about coming back to our place for lunch?’
‘No, I have things to do at home,’ Aunt Jetty said. ‘Come along, boys.’
‘No!’ screamed Willy. ‘I don’t want
‘How did you do that?’ Mrs Trifle asked.
‘Simple. The walls are painted with my newly invented anti-graffiti paint, Graff-Rid. The Loo-Brain does the rest.’
‘The Loo-Brain?’
‘That’s what I call my automatic control system. When someone puts paint on the walls it knows it and sends special chemicals streaming down to wash it off.’
‘But what if the vandals scratch the words in the paint?’
‘Try it,’ Dr Trifle said, handing Mrs Trifle a nail.
Mrs Trifle tried to scratch her name into the paint but couldn’t.
‘Goodness!’ she exclaimed. ‘This paint is very hard.’
‘Graff-Rid is made with a powder of the same super hard metals as space vehicles. This paint would stop a rocket.’
‘Dr Trifle has to be the smartest person in the whole world!’ Selby thought. ‘No one else could make a loo that would stop a rocket?!’
‘This is all absolutely wonderful, dear,’ Mrs Trifle said. ‘But the biggest problem with the PCRF at the sports ground is that someone is plugging it up.’
‘I’ve thought of that,’ Dr Trifle said, handing Mrs Trifle an old worn out beach towel. ‘Go ahead, flush this down the loo.’
Mrs Trifle threw the towel into the toilet and flushed. For a minute the water rose. Then there was a sudden series of sucking and gushing noises followed by a big gulp and a huge burping noise as the towel disappeared.
‘Why that’s wonderful!’ Mrs Trifle exclaimed. ‘But what about bigger things?’
‘This big?’ Dr Trifle asked, handing her a basketball.
‘That’s silly. A basketball can’t fit down a loo.’
‘Try it.’
Mrs Trifle put the basketball into the toiletand flushed. Selby and the Trifles watched and listened as the water rose. The series of sucking and gurgling noises increased and, finally, with the basketball stuck firmly in the bottom of the toilet, there was a huge
pop!
and the ball shot out of the toilet followed by a gush of water.
‘It didn’t flush,’ Mrs Trifle said.
‘But it didn’t clog up either. If something refuses to go down the hole then the pressure reverses and it pushes it out. The Loo-Brain has a mind of its own which makes this toilet unplugable. Well it’s not a
mind
mind, just a little doover that ticks over when the pressure gets up to the red zone. Then the whole cycle goes into flip-flop mode and then
whammo splasho ploppo
out comes the basketball. It’s a flush or fling toilet.’
‘Heavens!’ Mrs Trifle exclaimed, looking at the wet spots on her blouse. ‘I think I’ve been splashed with you-know-what from the toilet!’
‘It’s just a jet of clean water. I keep the pressure gauge low so that no you-know-what or even what-do-you-call-'ems can come back out.’
‘Well that’s a relief,’ Mrs Trifle said.
‘Oh, and I forgot to tell you that when the system flip-flops, a vandal alarm rings. Another one goes off in the police station so the police can come running and catch the culprit.’
‘You are a marvel,’ Mrs Trifle said, giving her husband a big hug. ‘Will your SAA be ready to put in the PCRF in time for Saturday’s kiddies’ footie match?’
‘Absolutely.’
Sure enough, the following Saturday Selby followed Dr and Mrs Trifle down the street to the sports ground where the Soop-Adoop-Aloo had been installed earlier that morning. He hid in the bushes and watched Willy and Billy play in the weekly footie match. Afterwards, as the crowd was leaving, he saw Dr Trifle go into the loo and come out again.
‘No one’s tried to damage it,’ he reported. ‘So I guess it wasn’t much of a test.’
‘No one’s going to try any funny business while there are so many people around,’ Mrs Trifle said. ‘The moment we leave, I’ll bet the vandals will strike. Jetty,’ she said turning toher sister, ‘how about coming back to our place for lunch?’
‘No, I have things to do at home,’ Aunt Jetty said. ‘Come along, boys.’
‘No!’ screamed Willy. ‘I don’t want
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