I barely survived one of the worst experiences of my life ...
I had a Penn Station philly cheese steak and fries for lunch. On top of the
beers I had last night ... I was brewing a mighty poo for this afternoon. I'm
not sure exactly when it began, but it started with the slow but distinct
rumbling/abdominal cramping about 12:30. At which point, the situation
required no immediate attention but I made a mental note to monitor the progress
of my lower GI tract. As one would a pregnancy, I began to time my anal
contractions in an effort to perfectly time my migration to an appropriate
facility in order to disgorge what was sure to be a monstrous poo. I,
unfortunately, became engaged in a work related manner that could not be set
aside for a proper fecal purge so I was forced to clench. By the time I was
afforded an opportunity to vacate the unfortunate encounter, my colon had
reached a somewhat panicked state. I was literally getting cramps in my lower
back and legs from fighting off the building force of the immense Grundy shit
that was about to pass, despite the concerted effort of my madly constricted
sphincter. In short, by the time I reached the men's room, I felt I had run a
marathon. I was just about to ram my fist up my ass to stem the tide for the
remaining few seconds, when I heard a voice from the half opened bathroom door.
I nearly disemboweled myself prematurely when I practically tripped over the
"Closed for Service" sign just inside the door. Much to my chagrin, my abdomen
had already begun the preliminary muscular release immediately preceding "The
Move". In a sweating panic, I scurried across the hall into an abandoned
conference room. I thought surely anyone within twenty feet could've heard
the screams of protest rising from my anguished ass as I hid in the darkness,
awaiting my date with destiny. I was forced into a frantic lemaz breathing
pattern while hunching in a swivel chair in a vain effort to contain the rising
revolt from within. In a last ditch effort I undid my belt and unbuttoned my
jeans to allow maximum abdominal expansion. My fervent prayers were finally
answered when I heard the tell-tale retreat of the janitor's cart from the
hallway. My eyes nearly popped out from the wave of back-pressure that
resulted from standing up. In a hunched over posture, I waddled into the
shitter as fast as I could. I had no sooner come to a full and complete stop
than I noticed my boss's shoes were coming to rest under the wall by the urinal.
I broke out in a cold sweat as I was doubled over, focusing all my psychic
powers into willing my boss to piss faster. I was trying to divert my panic
by focusing on the impending ecstasy of what was sure to be the best power-dump
of my life. The flush of his urinal set off a renewed round of sympathy
pains from my nether-regions. Much like Shitbreak in American Pie, I could
hold out no longer ... I attempted to time the first salvo with the ending roar
of the flush. ... All for naught, the initial eruption was fit to rattle
window-panes for blocks. I hurriedly picked my feet up and rested them on the
handicapped handles for fear he might recognize my boots. With horror, I
realized that my fecal vapors were having a violent malignant reaction with the
lingering industrial chemical fumes from the janitor's cleaners. The lack of
breathable air, combined with the strain of holding back the remainder of my
purge was beginning to make me giddy. In a vain attempt to reach oxygen, I
put my feet back down and put my head as far to the floor as possible.
Wishing only to survive the ordeal, I was unconcerned with the sounds of my
heavy panting. I no longer cared that I was staring across the floor tiles at
my bosses feet as he seemed to be taking his time washing his hands. My anus
seemed to have been sufficiently shredded by the initial onslaught that I had no
choice but to listen in horror as my stomach gave a shriek that slowly descended
in pitch to match the sound of an incoming mortar round. With a rush that
nearly launched me off my precarious perch, all the demons of the nine rings of
hell burst forth from my agonized colon with all the fury of Satan himself.
When I regained conscious thought, my boss was nowhere to be seen. I'm not
sure how long I lay there, shamelessly moaning, across my thighs, wishing I
could lay my face on the cool tile floor while I recovered the strength to
stand. I emerged from the shitter as if seeing the world again for the first
time. I walked on none-too-steady legs back to my cube and began attempting
to rehydrate myself ... truly a lifechanging experience.
Just thought you might like to know what I did with my afternoon.
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