After an hour and a half on his knees swallowing the hot piss of the bar’s patrons, the newly christened urinal fag took advantage of a break in the line, to empty his own bladder of all the second hand beer he has guzzled this evening.

As he stands there, trying to figure out the series of events that led him to this place and turned him into a substitute toilet, he realizes that he is too drunk to think clearly. After all, he has swallowed the equivalent of 20 to 30 warm, recycled beers.  He also realizes that he does not have time to ponder his new place in life, as several men walk into the bathroom and unzip. He needs to get into position on his knees so these men can relieve themselves into him.