"I'm afraid we don't know - that's up to the airport."
"Trouble is, I really need to go to the toilet."
Nicole delivers welcome news: there's a camping toilet in the tail. Not the height of luxury or technology, but fine for an emergency. She installs him in the rear compartment, where he stays for some time.
The tail space of G-AMPY does have a toilet. It doesn't have a wash basin.
The passenger returns, mission successful. He places his hands on Nicole's cheeks and declares his undying love. Somehow her smile doesn't drop by a millimetre, but the eyes scream for help as he pats and strokes.
After the bus leaves she makes a hurried check on the type of transaction that has been carried out. Huge relief - it's a number one. She's had a urine skin treatment, not an organic mudpack.
Naturally we're all sympathetic. In the hotel Signals Bar (we decide there's a lonely dyslexic endlessly waiting at the bar) it's my round. Want a drink Tom? John? How about you, piss-face? By the end of the evening we're doing L'Oreal commercials. "My skin has never felt so hydrated. Thanks to P-Uro nanosomes my face is wrinkle-free, vibrant, invigorated."
Old Man's Piss by L'Oreal. Because I'm worth it.
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