Toilet Stories Page #2

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For just 200,000.

Yes.

For some charity. Children or disabled

in Africa, what do I know'?

Charlotte?

Patricia.

Sweetie, I'll call you later, OK?

Sweetie!

It's so nice to see you.

Yes, really nice.

- It's been an eternity.

At your goose dinner.

Three or four months ago.

Exactly.

How's Constantin?

I wanted to gel in touch with you,

but I was so busy.

Our vacation home in Provence.

Then we were skiing in Aspen,

and this and that. You know the drill.

Sure, no problem.

You can't go to St. Moritz anymore.

It was such impudence last time:

We arrived and our suite

had been given to guess whom?

Russians.

Russians.

Can you imagine? They're everywhere now.

- Yes...

you indicated that last time, loo.

Sweetie,

I'm about to have a photo shoot for the press

for donating our Kandinsky,

but I need to confess something.

Well, you know.

I haven't called you

because I was so embarrassed last time.

Embarrassed?

- Well...

I bought magnificent geese

that were massaged for two years

and then Michi invited such people.

I was so ashamed.

Like the guy in jeans who Michi invited.

In jeans!

You mean Reiner'? - Exactly. He said his

father's an electrician in front of everyone.

Incredible.

I'll invite the caretaker next time, too.

His father's a carpenter.

- Oh, it doesn't matter.

I found him quite likable.

- If you're into chimpanzees.

His chest hair was incredible.

I thought it was a toupee.

We spent some time together after dinner.

He was all charged up. Maybe that's why

I thought his dad was an electrician!

It was just a one-night stand.

As far as I'm concerned.

He still sends me texts.

Oh?

Well,

I should've known

you'd be uptight about it.

What's that supposed to mean?

- Nothing.

But I don't regret it.

So... what have you been up to lately?

Working.

Working?

Surely you don't need to!

What does Constantin say about that?

Nothing.

Six weeks till the games.

We need a world record for gold.

No kidding, Ludmilla.

I told you we should send Loni

to a training camp in the Andes or somewhere.

Like all the other top athletes.

Never mind. We're here now and we'll fix it.

Dilution?

We'll manage, dear.

Manage what?

- To win gold. Your gold medal.

This is my life!

We all know that.

You're number one!

- Let's keep cool.

The anti-gold guys

are breathing down our necks.

And how?

- Substitute urine.

That's our only chance.

- It won't work.

Kleinschmidt busted Zimmermann

just last week.

That heptathlete...

Kleinschmidt's focused on the gold.

She'll stop at nothing to make headlines.

I've earned this.

Of course.

It's about a level playing field.

How did she do it?

Did Zimmennann hide the urine

in her vagina? - Yes.

We won't do that then.

We'll use the men's method.

96 to 8.

96 to 8.

My wife and daughter.

Sweet, aren't they'?

I've carried that picture around with me

for 30 years.

You know,

I normally picked them up in the car

when they'd been at Aunt Irmgard's,

but I was playing Skat that night.

Skat was usually on Wednesdays,

but that week was different.

So they look the bus.

So I...

came home and no one was there,

so I called Aunt Irmgard and she said...

"They took the bus

at 8:
15 pm."

The next morning, the police came

into my office.

I'd specifically told them

to take the 7:
47 PM bus,

while it was still light.

They always took the 7:47 bus.

That Heise guy,

they nabbed him soon after that, thank God.

Married, two kids,

a respectable job.

"The Beast of Barsbttel."

Maybe you've heard of him.

They had to let him go

due to a lack of evidence.

Everyone knew. Even the judge said,

"Heise did it."

Can you imagine?

Yes,

it was a difficult time for me.

Mr. Rolfes to gardening.

The worst part is,

people treat you like an outcast.

They cross the street

as if you had cholera.

As if I were contagious.

As if I'd done it.

If it wasn't for Gnther,

who knows?

Gnther?

Gnther Griegoleit

from Griegoleit Driving School.

He was always there for me.

Unfortunately, he later moved to Bielefeld.

What?

- Griegoleit.

He moved to Bielefeld.

What a shame.

Right.

- Mr. Rolfes to gardening, Mr. Rolfes.

Listen, I...

I'm very sorry...

about everything...

I don't mean to be rude...

Mr. Rolfes to gardening.

That's Werner.

We were celebrating his 60th.

A few years ago now, too.

Where's that?

At home.

In the cellar.

Are those bars?

What'

Here...

in the foreground.

The poles. They look like bars.

Yes.

It doesn't really concern me, but...

who is this Werner?

Werner Heise, the "Beast of Barsbttel."

I mean,

once he confessed,

I began calling him Werner.

Earlier, I'd called him Mr. Heise

He lives in your cellar?

- Yes.

Since when?

October 3rd, '79.

Our anniversary.

We always drink a beer to celebrate.

A nice dark ale.

Yes,

it was a bit strange for me at first, too.

But over time...

Humans are creatures of habit.

You've held him captive for 30 years?

It's no easy job, let me tell you.

But,

I don't want to complain.

We've really settled in since then.

And nobody's ever missed him?

What?

Heise.

I'd prefer if you call him "Werner."

No one's ever missed Werner?

Everyone hoped he'd disappear. When he

was gone they finally felt safe again.

That's how it was.

What do you think?

Think of what?

That I'm protecting people from Werner?

That he can't hurt anyone else?

It's vigilantism.

And if Werner were to...

I mean, you have two kids.

Both healthy, I hope.

Yes, I...

I mean,

sure, if...

he really did it, then...

That's lovely.

What?

What?

What's lovely?

Well, that you understand.

You know,

that means a lot to me.

I never said I understand.

Not directly,

but you did between the lines.

Werner's got it good at my place:

TV,

bathroom,

heating, kitchenette.

Built it all myself.

Sounds great.

Yes.

I thought so, too.

Until two days ago.

Two days ago?

Yes?

Yes, it's Mr. Tapken again,

from Tapken Bathrooms.

What now?

Please step aside,

Mrs. Schohusen.

You can't just...

- You know, Mrs. Schohusen.

I feel like

you got the wrong impression of me.

This is unacceptable, Mr. Tapken.

- I'd like to apologize,

Mrs. Schohusen.

My motto is always:

"Only the best for my customers

and a bit less if need be."

I should've told you that.

That's why we got our wires crossed.

I'm sorry.

I'll give you the exhibit piece.

Every kind of raised seat fits,

even the cheapest.

You should leave now, Mr. Tapken.

Good,

Mrs. Schohusen.

It's not the money, Mr. Tapken.

Willi's moving into a home soon.

Into a home?

A nursing home.

He moves in six weeks.

Then he must go, I understand.

You don't think I want him gone?

I'm not inferring that, Mrs. Schohusen.

You have to know what's best.

His nurse only comes twice a day

for 15 minutes.

That's the thanks you get

for paying insurance all these years.

The way this looks,

you have no choice anyway.

Willi can't even shower here.

Even though

great home-care setups do exist.

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