Drunk Isabelle Watch: Day 91.
Most people would perhaps be somewhat embarrassed by the whole horrid affair, maybe take to their homes and pull the curtains closed in shame and sit on the sofa in their underpants, maybe eat their way through four or five tubs of Hagen-Daz until the voices in their head stopped ringing the 'shame' bell.
But not Isabelle. She had rarely felt as proud as she did right now, as the entire population of the island stood on the banks of the island looking out at the ocean in collective horror.
Earlier that morning Izzy had gone for her usual post 'whisky-breakfast' bowel movement in the toilets of Resident Services. However, not only did the foul evacuation refuse to flush away, but Izzy had to almost climb off the thing as it stood proudly out of the water, basking in the glow of the cheap neon strip light overhead.
After taking a few photos to show her creation off to Raymond later that evening during their weekly salsa dance class, she decided to go and check the septic waste tank at the rear of Resident Services. Sure enough it was clogged solid, and despite the several whacks she gave the drainage pipe with a bird bath she stole out of Fuchsia's garden, nothing was coming out of the poop-packed pipework.
Well, Mama Izzy liked to think that she was second to none when it came to problem solving on the fly, so with barely a second thought she ran off to collect her welding torch and was soon burning her way through the circular end of the large waste tank.
In her head, Isabelle's plan was solid. Considering the tank sat on the edge of the river, if she cut a hole on the end of the tank the contents would dribble out into the water and slowly drain away out to the ocean, where the fish could make a meal of her magnificent movements.
However Izzy had seriously underestimated the pressure forcing its way out of the shit-stuffed septic storage, and after a few small cuts the entire end of the large circular tank popped off, like someone had stamped on an empty Pringles tin. Rather than the expected outpouring of noxious fluids though, what looked like a 20ft long and 10ft high brown slug unfolded itself slowly from the tank, and with a definitive 'plop' sound landed directly into the river in front of it.
Izzy was awestruck. She immediately ran to the front of Resident Services and ripped the flagpole out of the ground, before sprinting back to the river and jamming it along with the town flag into the top of the massive floating bowel-movement boat, now slowly drifting down the river. As it eventually hit the sea, it had already pulled in a crowd of horrified onlookers, who watched aghast as Isabelle ignited a cigarette lighter and launched it toward the wobbly brown abomination.
With a massive shock of yellow flame, the 'Viking Shit Boat' was fully ablaze, and as people slowly returned to their homes to try and kill the image they'd just seen with a few tubs of premium ice cream, Mama Izzy stood on the banks of the island and sang at the top of her lungs toward the burning vessel.
Sadly she didn't know any Viking death songs, so she settled for a few verses of 'Gangnam Style'.
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