I arrive at a massive mansion for a party. As I walk in I realize everyone attending is considerably older than me, some of the youngest people are in their late 20s. I’m essentially the only teenager there, bar two friends who are attending with me, one my age and one a little younger. While chatting and joking with my friend I excuse myself for a moment to use the restroom.
I find the restroom, take a wee, and attempt to flush. The toilet does not flush. We are doomed.
I run out of the restroom, frantically searching for my friend. When I find them I grab them by the shoulders and explain the situation. This toilet not flushing means the end of the world. Toilets across the planet are going to begin malfunctioning, and humanity will drown in their own bodily fluids.
“Oh shit.” He runs back to the toilet and takes a piss to see if it works; it doesn’t. We exit the bathroom and loudly explain to the party that the toilet is not working and that humanity is doomed. Panic breaks out.
We rush off to find our other younger friend, dragging him back to the restroom as we explain the urgency of the situation at hand. He takes a piss to see if it works; it does.
Everyone begins to cheer and clap, proclaiming him to be the Toilet Mosiah and savior of the world.