My cellmate and I shared a jar of urine. We kept it next to the toilet to give our space a pop of color that every prison cell needed. Soon everyone in prison had at least one jar of urine. Inmates and guards alike would bring jars of urine to lunch to barter for fancier urine shades. The prison economy ran on jars of urine. Illegal supplements from places never heard of were snuck in to produce urine of all hues. We held auctions for those rare colors of urine. One of the guards often bought up all the bright red urine for her bright-red-loving husband, utilizing her entire paycheck, which enraged some of the more eccentric collectors. She was later found stabbed to death. Many days would pass without a single flush of a urinal. We began experimenting with multi-colored and patterned urines. The smell was intense, but comforting. At first, we pursued new urines for their pure aesthetic potential, to make our time in prison less drab. Then we discovered we could modify our urines to have magical properties. My cellmate told me to always call it science, or else, but it felt like magic to me. He would read biology textbooks each day until lights out, scrawling chemical formulas on the walls using blood from my infected gums. I was happy to contribute to advancing urine science in whatever way I could. When he developed glow-in-the-dark urine, he started working through the night. Soon, my bloody gums became obsolete when an inky-black urine which doubled as a tolerable energy drink was invented. We made urine that hardened into plastic minutes after exiting the peen, useful for vials and beakers. We made urine that came out as a dust that could get you high like mushrooms, useful for dreaming up new urines. We made urine that wasn’t affected by gravity, which was cool – but mostly useless. A new urine or two was invented each day. The scientist gang of the jail began an aggressive education campaign to involve everyone into research and development of new urines. If you refused to be educated or were too dull to understand basic chemistry, you were made into a test subject for new urines. These tests would sometimes result in the subjects getting deadly rashes (which killed them) or just dying of ordinary instant death. It didn’t really matter as we could always bring them back to life with urine. The guards knew we could escape at any point, ushering in the final age of technology. Guards would ask us all the time if we thought we would be remembered as otherworldly gods or aliens that bestowed our knowledge onto humanity. We said yes. However, no one left the prison, not even the guards, despite their pleas and begs. Prison was our utopia made in the image of scientist-kings, upheld by our short but penetrating history of urine production, and built on the backs of our guard workforce, who were later freed in an uprising, whom we could’ve brutally suppressed at any point, but didn’t, which made us look really moral. The urine robots did everything for us, anyway. Outside forces tried to dismantle our utopia. The entire World Military was sicced on us, because of our left-leaning rhetoric. We responded by sending in one of our best urinator grunts (his stream length could be measured in miles) with a full bladder to the top of a guard tower and had them rain down urine on the forces. Everyone dropped their weapons and hugged each-other until they quit the military. An era of peace followed. I signed up to have a urine-generated womb to produce the next generation of urinators with my cellmate.

Hold on, I need to go number one. Be right back.

The four baby boys I birthed could already talk, perfectly, in every language that I was aware of, which was about five. The next day, they were adults with otherworldly knowledge, mostly centered around urine and what it could do. They urinated out urine capable of opening rifts to other worlds. These worlds had conscious lifeforms that, despite their immense intelligence, were urinating all over the place randomly. My four children gave these multifarious lifeforms, spread across nigh-infinite worlds, gifts: urinals. Every urinal was designed for each lifeform’s unique urination style (spinning style, twist and pull style, impact grenade style, wall style, sweet and slow style, half backflip style, family style, etc). The urine collected from these urinals was siphoned through rifts into a giant underground reservoir housed in the prison’s subterranean complex, which now spanned across a quarter of the globe and, in some places, reached beyond the crust of the earth into the inner core, just because we could. The surface of earth was no longer habitable because of wars and stuff. I was the only one who knew of this reservoir, besides my boys, as I gave birth to them, and it hurt a lot, so they “owed me one” in the form of roping me into their beautiful plans. Once enough urine was collected and we all had our fun splashing around, my God-like boys transported (via rift) the ocean of urine into the center of Jupiter and back, compressing it into a solid sphere the size and weight of a baseball. I told them I expected it to be heavier and they told me to please shut up and trust the science. The boys grabbed my arm with their veiny hands and placed my palm on the urine baseball thing which made me experience everything that has ever happened across all of reality all at once. Imagine, a silly little murderer like me, given the chance to witness the birth and death of the universe. It warmed my cold killer heart. I thanked my kind boys, who were already compressing another urine baseball, which they slammed into the other one using a particle collider spanning the world twice over, which they made out of urine, because of course. The urine baseballs collided, forming a super-super-supermassive black hole. Everything, across all space and time, was instantly sucked into it. I awoke in a vibrant jungle around everyone I have ever loved, all five of them. Even though I have been blind from birth I could see everything, and it was pretty nice looking. Also, nothing smelled like urine which was more mind-blowingly amazing than I thought it would be. Everyone in the jungle was naked because we were no longer ashamed. It was as if sin was never invented. My four boys were next to me. They told me they reconstructed all of reality into something way kinder and better, and all of our consciousnesses remain because consciousness is quantum, or whatever, and that we are now living on the surface of the fourth dimension, time, and that time is a flat circle, and that there are infinite layers of reality that they will never be able to get through, but they must try, and they also said that communism is the only correct political ideology, and that information is never lost, it just changes form, and that everything is different but the same. It went on like this for a while, just me getting mansplained to by my boys in the nude. I looked around for some clothes, not out of shame, but because I was used to wearing stuff. I slipped into a slick jungle leaf shirt, but it didn’t quite fit: I was pregnant once more. I tried urinating out a hamburger to quench my pregnancy hunger pangs, but I failed. Urine technology didn’t work in this dimension. I asked my boys for help, but they were already urinating themselves into the 5th dimension, which was love or something like that. My cellmate and I settled down in a little house we built by the seaside catty-corner to the jungle. It was almost impossible without our crazy urine abilities, but the challenge made us love the life we made even more. Then I birthed you, the light of my life. I love you so friggin’ much.

So, yeah, anyway, that’s why your urine is red, because you’re special!