Ah - well children, come around the campfire and let me tell you the, sadly true, tale of the shitapiller.

Once upon a time a cleaner was doing their daily rounds, hoovering offices, wiping desks emptying bins and mopping the toilets.

Little did they know, a new client had rented an office in the building. This client had a particularly disgruntled member of staff. Upon entering the toilets the cleaner noticed there was shit smeared all up the wall and down behind the sanitory bin.

Yes children, this is the ladies convenience.

The cleaner thought this most peculiar but decided to be a positive worker and clear it up. Maybe some poor old dear was feeling ill and had an unfortunate accident, the type normally reserved for drug addled festival goers in port-a-loos.

Slightly scarred by this incident, but otherwise unharmed, the cleaner finished their rounds and went home to a strong scotch. Something nice to end a shitty day at work.

The very next day the cleaner, though this whole episode had ended, started doing their usual round. Nothing out of the ordinary in any of the offices, how lovely.

Come the last job of the night the cleaner takes a deep breath and walks into the ladies loo.

Wonderful thought the cleaner, no shit on the walls. While wiping round the cleaner begins to develop a sense of dread, all their senses tingling. It seems today, instead of smearing shit up the wall there were little carefully rolled balls of shit lined up on the windowsill. But the worst is yet to come.

At the end of the carefully arranged row of balls is a little caerfully rolled and carved caterpillar, of shit. The shitapiller. Smiling face and poked out eyes glaring at the cleaner.

"Enough of this, I'm not payed enough to deal with such a terrible monster." The cleaner hurridly leaves the building.

The next day the cleaner reports their newly discovered creature of the dank to to management. That evening on their rounds they are accompanited. Least the horrid monster come out again. Nothing, no sign of the shitapiller anywhere.

Over the next few days nothing in the toilet changes expect for a sign advising the creator of the shitapiller that this is not acceptable behaviour. Many who witnesses the sign thought it a somewhat redundant statement, smearing shit on the walls is unnaceptable, that's just good manners.

But someone, somewhere, took heed of the signs.

Come friday evening, the last day of the week the cleaner enters the toilet, no longer afraid.

The walls, floor ceiling, just about everything smothered in shit. Clearly the creator of the shitapiller has been yet again posessed by the demon inside. This time however they have clearly had a remorseful moment and decided to smoosh the shitapiller into oblivion. All over the fucking place.

Yes dear children, this is where I work. In this quiet, friendly and generally lovely office block. Lurks the debodied soul of the shitapiller.