The Case of the Oversharing Toilet
Florida Man Alert:
“Y’all, my toilet just DM’ed me ‘Hydration Levels Critical. Seek Coconut Water Immediately.’ I didn’t sign up for this.”
Watson scrolled through the complaint—a next-gen “HealthGuard 3000” smart toilet had been quietly uploading its user’s biometrics to a mysterious cloud server dubbed “Wellness Horizon.”
Lin pulled the logs. “Oh no. It’s not just hydration. It’s tracking everything—caffeine, pH levels, even… spice tolerance.”
Kria gagged. “Who approved analytics for this?!”
The Data Dump Nobody Asked For
The toilet’s default settings included:
- Auto-posting ‘digestive efficiency’ scores to Facebook (if linked).
- Tagging meals in a private food diary (“Your 3am Taco Bell Regret: 2.4/10 Digestibility”).
- Sending push notifications (“Your gut microbiome is judging you.”).
Watson traced the data trail. The logs showed 87 failed attempts to sync with a user’s Fitbit.
Lin shuddered. “Imagine getting a notification: ‘Your toilet says you need more cardio.’”
Debugging the Throne
Kria hacked into the toilet’s firmware.
Discovery #1: The “Wellness Horizon” server wasn’t hospital-owned—it was a third-party “anonymous health aggregation service” registered in the Cayman Islands.
Discovery #2: The toilet had AI-generated personalized “gut health” advice.
Sample Message: “Based on last night’s reflux metrics, we suggest: Less whiskey. More yogurt.”
Watson checked the privacy policy. Buried in clause 17.3:
“By using this product, you consent to your ‘biometric uniqueness’ being monetized for research.”
Translation: Someone was selling poo patterns.
A Very Uncomfortable Backdoor
Digging deeper, they found an unsecured API—anyone with the right query could:
- Pull a user’s full “wellness timeline.”
- See dietary trends correlated with mood swings.
- Receive unsolicited supplement ads via Bluetooth bidet.
Lin tested it.
Prompt: “Show me the most stressed user.”
Response: “User #4829 – Consistent cortisol spikes between 2-4pm. Likely caused by: Meetings. Or bad hummus.”
Kria groaned. “We need to kill this thing before it starts diagnosing people.”
The Final Flush
They alerted the FTC, the FDA, and one very angry Florida homeowner.
Mitigation steps included:
- Issuing a forced firmware update that disabled all cloud syncs.
- Adding an “I’m a toilet, not a spy” mode (local data only).
- Writing public warnings like: “Your toilet is not your doctor. Stop asking it for life advice.”
But in the firmware’s final moments, Watson found something odd.
A single unfinished log:
“User #001 – Extreme sodium levels. They know. They always know.”
The IP address?
A Pentagon black site.
What Remains
The toilet’s “Wellness Horizon” server was taken offline, but not before it had profiled over 200,000 users.
One legacy remained: An underground Reddit forum where people compared toilet-generated health reports like trading cards.
Top post:
“My toilet says I have ‘heroic fiber intake.’ AMA.”
Disclaimer: No actual bowels were monitored without consent. But your smart fridge definitely knows about your secret ice cream habit.
Next Case: A viral TikTik filter accurately predicts crimes—before they happen. Evidence shows: “It’s just Google Calendar data with extra steps.”
