The bottle of Doctor Eukanuba's All-Purpose Breath-Freshening Plaque-Killening Anti-Bacterial Mouthwash (eucalyptus flavour, as if that was something anyone other than a koala would have ever asked for) stood on the edge of the bathroom sink, next to the hot tap, under the cabinet with the mirrored doors.
This was where it always stood, being too tall for the cabinet itself and too frequently-used to be relegated to the storage cupboard outside the bathroom, where pungent gift sets received in office Secret Santas languished in the dark behind the extra towels and the spare packet of toilet roll.
The label on the bottle was a drawing of the eponymous, and ominously-smiling, Doctor Eukanuba. In the picture he was leaning over a terrified patient who Marshall suspected was a slightly mean-spirited depiction of Steve Konkalewski. The legend "now floss!", in bold and bloody all-caps, was written beneath it.
Today that familiar image was almost obscured by overlapping layer of skull and crossbones stickers, plastered on so thickly that only the faint green glow of the liquid within let Marshall know that this was, in fact, his dental-association-approved mouthwash.
Poison or ghost-pirates, he thought. Either way, he'd need to buy a new bottle.
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froodle
