Professor Ahmet MacBarnaby has the unfortunate distinction of being the first person to perish in an anti-gravity toilet accident.
The fact that his many accomplishments in life would be so embarrassingly eclipsed by the manner of his death is an irony anybody can appreciate. Except for Professor MacBarnaby, of course.
Not that it really matters to him... he's dead.
"Tut tut, my dear!" he mumbled as he had dismissed the attendant. "I managed to figure out how to deflect rogue tachyons during a wormhole compression, I think I can figure out how to operate a toilet!"
He couldn't have been more wrong. This was made abundantly clear as his internal organs were liquified because he failed to secure the rectal safety coupling before the Physemann Vent engaged. There are far worse deaths one can experience, but few have the distinction of disintegrating your ass in the process.
— Taken from "Varukkah Blind" (unfinished), by David Simmer II
You can thank Bac-Os Artificial Bacon Bits for my digging out an old sci-fi novel I started writing two decades ago.
I bought them because I used to like bacon when I ate meat, and the label promised me that Bac-Os "Makes Every Bite Better" (yet contained no actual meat in the ingredients). How can you resist marketing hype like that?
As usual, when things sound too good to be true, they usually are.
In this case, it's because Bac-Os taste like super-bacon infused toxic waste. They are SO disgusting. And now I've got a giant bottle of them taking up space in my cupboard.
But my real concern is the handful I popped into my mouth just now to give them a try.
They burned my mouth so bad that I became terrified as to what happens when they are excreted. Worrying over Bac-Os disintegrating my ass on the way out reminded me of the fictional Professor MacBarnaby in my story, and I was compelled to go read it again.
With classic storytelling like that, how am I not a massive literary success?