Letter from the Lavatory

Dear Mr Drew,


Last week I encountered one of your Fuzzy Brush vending machines in a restaurant toilet. I have always been intrigued as to how a Fuzzy Brush worked, so I took the opportunity to try one.

Having posted my £1 coin in the appropriate slot, I retrieved the small plastic ball from the machine. I read the instructions carefully:

How to Use

Grip the brush between your teeth as shown in diagram (1) and with your teeth swivel the brush from left to right.

• Then use your tongue to move the brush around your mouth… similar to the way you would use chewing gum.

• While chewing, the bristles brush across and between your teeth removing plaque and food particles.

• At the same time Xylitol and mint is released from the brush that kills harmful bacteria and freshens your breath.

• With practice you should be able to quickly and discreetly clean all your teeth – back and front.

• When you’ve finished, try breathing air inwards through your teeth – the same effect you have after normal brushing…


It usually takes practice with 2-3 brushes before you get 

used to chewing the brush and it’s a bit strange at first,

but with practice… we promise… Fuzzy Brush really works!

Fair enough, I thought, this is relatively straightforward, placing the fuzzy brush in my mouth.

Everything seemed to be going well, the sensation something akin to putting a miniature peppermint flavoured laundry ball in your mouth and swilling it around. However, my issue is with the final instruction – ‘try breathing air inwards through your teeth’.

I now realise that the fuzzy brush should be removed from one’s mouth before attempting this, or at least it should be betwixt teeth and cheek, not fully inside the mouth.

Suffice to say, the fuzzy ball shot down the back of my throat, making a perfect blockage in my airway.

Panicked, I clutched at my throat and tried my best to cough it up, with no success. I could feel the life force dribbling out of me.

Fortunately, at this point, another patron of the restaurant entered the toilet to take his ease. My chest heaving, my face purple, I grasped my potential saviour by the lapels.

“Get it out, get it out’!” I somehow managed to gasp, before sinking to my knees, vaguely aware of a large bellow and a sickening blow to the side of my head. I assume this must have dislodged the offending Fuzzy brush, but I can’t be certain since, at this point, I passed out.

When I eventually regained consciousness in the police station, I found myself having to explain my actions to the desk sergeant before being released without charge. I have consequently been banned from all branches of this particular restaurant franchise.

Except the one in Brighton, where apparently they’re more open minded about these things.

I hope you find this feedback useful – perhaps you should consider adding a little more detail to the instructions to avoid the dangers of choking and unintentional sexual harassment.

Yours sincerely,

rural spaceman

PS It transpired that I actually swallowed the fuzzy brush when being struck during my lavatory encounter. Let’s just say the spikes are very sharp.


About ruralspaceman

A man trapped inside a middle aged body still tries to be hip and trendy. Actually, no he doesn't. He says it as he sees it. as long as it's not too controversial. Living with his wife, Lady Barton St Mary, two children, Miss Katherine and Master Johnny in Randall Towers, he is constantly frustrated by the mechanisms of modern life and the issues raised by being the husband of a high flying executive and member of the aristocracy. All he wants is a quiet life and a full set of Deal or No Deal DVDs. Please help him.
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