Reader, I have scoured everywhere in order to write this article. I have searched high and low for this fantastic fiend and their unique urethra, and I have finally found the Phantom Pisser. Those familiar with any dormitory bathroom will be aware of the Phantom Pisser’s work. Personally, I fondly remember some of their earliest pieces, such as “Midnight Micturate” and “Pee #5.” I sat down with the Pisser for this exclusive Miscellany interview.
NL: Thank you so much for talking to me today!
PP: Thank you! I’m so honored that you reached out to me.
NL: When you think of urine, what comes to mind?
PP: Well, a plethora of things. I think of majestic mustard fields. I think of sunshine pouring through clouds after rain. I think of leaves of the autumnal variety. Mainly I think of the color yellow. I mean, I’m not a traditional artist in the “I went to art school, and I know what color theory is” way. But Gandhi said, “Be the change you want to see in the world,” and I think that’s beautiful. You may not know this, but many people mispronounce “Gandhi” as “Gaandi,” which is funny because that actually means “asshole” in Hindi. Assholes aren’t the same as urethras, but I’ll be damned if they aren’t close.
NL: What a fascinating and convoluted answer. How did you get started in this line of work?
PP: If you think about it, the whole mechanics of flushing the toilet is so hackneyed and passé. Everybody’s done it, everybody’s seen it before. What if someone didn’t flush the toilet? What if someone dared to be different, dared to take a whizz on the wall of uniformity? I simply had to step up and be that person.
NL: Wow, truly profound. Now, to get down to the real stuff: What’s your policy on washing hands?
PP: Oh, against, for sure. Why burden my alabaster hands with the confusing yet sweet-smelling grime of soap? A simple “running my hands through the water briefly” will suffice.
NL: What would you say to those who question your motives and methods?
PP: In the famous words of Beyonce’s “Drunk in Love,” “We pee all night.” Everyone pees. Why shame the actions of another when we’re all the same, when we all love the same way? If you prick me, do I not bleed? If you tickle me, do I not laugh? If you poison me, do I not die? And if you pose a porcelain toilet in front of me, will I not fill it with piss?
NL: Are you quoting Shakespeare’s “The Tempest”?
PP: Ahh, ’tis not “The Tem-pisst”?
NL: No, ’tis not.
(An awkward silence ensues between us. Being brave, I soldier on.)
NL: Finally, what advice would you give those who want to follow in your footsteps?
PP: Anypee is possible.
And there you have it! Unfortunately, I cannot reveal the identity of the Phantom Pisser. As soon as I looked away from them to type up my last notes for this interview, they suddenly vanished, leaving not one yellow drop in their trace. Here’s hoping that, one day, the Pisser will be brave enough to reveal their face to the public eye. Until then, this is Nandini Likki, signing off.