Pucks Will Drop

In the meantime,Tristan had time to ponder the inhuman fact that he is now...a LIVING TOILET! Of all the worse things to happen to a rookie-ish goalie like him, and THIS?!
Tristan could do everything a human could do, except walk, of course. It wasn't going to be all fun and games for him now, for he heard the locker room door open, and approaching footsteps.
"No! I'm not ready!"
The footsteps emerged closer, until he could see two black running shoes. There was only one player that wore those, and it was...Sidney Crosby.
"Wow", Tristan thought. "The first one, and it's Sid!"
Sid unlatched the stall door, and presented to Harry his masculine form,then took off his bottom portion of clothing, whipping out his hard, heavy, thick manhood.Sid hummed as he lifted up the seat. More "salty lemonade".
. Tristan tried to speak, but toilets can't talk! He just sat there, in his white, porcelain form, and drank Crosby' s piss. The taste, to him, was like a citric acid-y taste. It was more sour than salty, like Mike's. Jarry took in every last detail of Sid' s genitals, his testes swinging from side to side as he shook his pee off.
"Please be done!", Tristan thought.
Sid turned around, but instead of putting his pants back on and leaving, he sat down upon Jarry's seat with his firm, perfect ass.
"No", he thought. "Please, don't--"
His thoughts were rudely interrupted by a PLHLARRRP! ,then a squeaky flatulence, then the magic happened.Jarry witnessed Sidney' s anus spreading open with a grunt, and took note of the hole as an in incompetent void, that leads to a world of stomach-and-gut processed foods.
."Please don't. Please don't!"
Sadly, like I said, toilets don't talk, so Jarry had to take what was coming to him. Being that toilets cannot close their eyes, either, he took every detail of a pink pucker releasing a painful, bulky log out of Crosby' s system. Tristan metaphorically gasped in awe at the girth and length, but then whispered in fear as the end tapped upon his pool of water. As the shit was increasing in both bulk and length, if f waded deeper into the water, until it touched Tristan' s "tounge".
"Eww! I hate my job already!"
Tristan used his watery mouth to wrap the poo in his "tastebuds", so he could take in every flavor, every particle of protein and granola bar that was his favorite.
"Uugh. Ick! You done yet?"

Notes

AN: might pick up on this, might not.