THE BROWN ONE AND I HAD ENGAGED FOR NINE ROUNDS BEFORE I PAUSED FOR BREATH. THE SEAT WAS SLICK WITH SWEAT, AND MY FINGERS STUCK TO THE PAGES OF MY SUDOKU BOOK. DESPERATELY I HEAVED AIR INTO MY LUNGS AND CALLED UPON THE SPIRIT OF PAUL ANDERSON.

THE CAT REACHED A PAW UNDER THE DOOR — NOT TO BE PLAYFUL, BUT TO OFFER SYMPATHY IN RESPONSE TO MY PRIMITIVE CRIES OF AGONY. THIS ONLY INCREASED MY DISMAY; WHAT SORT OF OPPONENT WAS IN MY BOWELS, WHO COULD INSPIRE A CAT TO FIND ITS HEART?

I WIPED MY BROW AND CLOSED MY EYES, READYING MY MUSCLE FOR THE NEXT STRAIN. “YOU CANNOT WIN,” I SNARLED TO MY RECTAL NEMESIS. “GRAVITY IS ON MY SIDE.”

SPRINGING FROM THE BOWL LIKE A JAGUAR BOMBARDED BY GAMMA RAYS, I COMMENCED NAKED JUMPING JACKS. “MOTHER FUCKER, YOU WILL EXTRUDE. YOU WILL EXTRUDE!!!” ON I CHANTED UNTIL MY OWN EARS RANG.

FOR A MOMENT I FELT PROGRESS, AND ASSUMED A BOWLEGGED STATION O’ER THE TOILET. I THOUGHT I HEARD A LAUGH AS MY FOE SLID SMOOTHLY BACK UP.

“CROM DAMN YOU,” I MURMURED. “I WILL BE RID OF YOU IF I HAVE TO SHIT THE BRAIN FROM MY DOME.”

AGAIN I SQUATTED AND RESUMED WITH MADDENING EFFORTS AND PIERCING HOWLS. MY VEINS BECAME AS ROPES BENEATH THE SKIN. MY VISION NARROWED TO TINY SLITS AND FADED INTO RED.

MINUTES PASSED BUT MY ADVERSARY DID NOT. MY LEGS WENT NUMB, THE ROOM SPUN, AND THE SHOWER CURTAIN LAY ON THE FLOOR, RIPPED FROM ITS RINGS. A DOCKET OF PAPERS SLID UNDER THE DOOR, AND I CEASED MY BATTLE TO SEE WHAT IT WAS. DIVORCE PAPERS.

“OH BETTY,” I MOANED THROUGH A RAGGED THROAT. “NOT MY BETTY WHITE. DON’T LEAVE ME BETTY. NOT NOW. WE WERE GOING TO TRY OUT THAT TRAPEZE.”

IN MISERY I STOOD, LOATHING TO ADMIT DEFEAT, AND OUT IT FELL. SERENDIPITOUSLY, IT MISSED THE BOWL AND LANDED DIRECTLY ON THE PAPERS — THE MOST APPROPRIATE SIGNATURE I COULD HAVE CONCEIVED.

MY INTESTINES TRAILED BEHIND ME, SO I COILED THEM AROUND ONE ARM AND ENTERED THE TUB TO SOAK IN SOME HOT WATER AND CONTEMPLATE WHETHER TO STOP DATING OLD WOMEN. BUT DAMMIT, THEY ALWAYS HAVE GOOD FIBER SUPPLEMENTS.