Rock and Zach roomed together, upstairs in an old two-story house subdivided into several apartments. Rock realized one day that their bathroom was filthy. Feces and toilet paper floated in the yellowish brown water that trickled across the rim of the commode onto the floor, which was littered with towels and old papers and magazines. Zach was in the living room-den when Rock approached to ask if he would help him clean. "We don't need to fuck with that," Zach said. "This place is fine."
"Do what? Have you looked in the bathroom?"
"What about it?"
"Man, there are turds floating in the toilet."
"So what? It still flushes. Besides, we'll be going home in a few days."
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