Jack Spratt's, Manchester

This is a trendy bar in Manchester city centre, and the single unisex cubicle quite neatly reflects this. 

I always expect a queue outside these ones, but there never is. Almost disappointing, in a way...

Easily the most striking thing about this W.C. is the artwork daubed on the walls. 

There's this on the inside of the door:

It looks like a deleted scene from a Tarantino film. I like to imagine the old man is suddenly going to pull a sawn-off shotgun from the depths of his coat and blow those guys behind him away. But after a 40 minute discussion on fizzy drinks or something.

Then there's this:

Scantily-clad señoritas peer down at you whilst you conduct your business, whether judging or admonishing you is left to the user's imagination... Well, their husbands have gone to war, and their only pleasure in life is to watch Mancunians make potty.

I like this bog, I'm not going to lie, and for it's uniqueness, coupled with the exotic mystery of the paintings, I'm going to award this 5 flushes out of 5! Magnifico!