Throwaway because I don’t need this turning up at my next job interview.

This morning I had woken up with the poop cramps (tm) and emptied my bowels, heart, soul, and about 6 pounds of my body weight into the toilet. As one does the day after Thanksgiving.

Unfortunately, I had not realized there would be more ‘giving’ to give.

To set the scene, I’m laying in a nice comfy bed with my fiancée. Sweatpants on, watching Home Alone, not a care in the world. My black cat is asleep on the bed with us, when I feel it. The pressure building up to dangerous levels. It feels like just a fart. I’ve never been wrong before. I’m always the one to mock those stories of people shitting themselves. Fools, my rectal cavity is built upon bedrock. Surely that sort of thing does not happen to anal gods like myself. How i have fallen from my throne of accurate shitting.

I release the fart. Probably my biggest mistake since my birth. It erupts with a force of the wind gods themselves. A bellow to be heard from the heavens, finally asserting my dominance over my fiancée. It was me. I had the loudest fart, and thus was alpha-male. However, a sharp liquid burning interrupted my triumph.

“I can’t have” I thought. I’m too far above such childish things. Yet…. I could feel it. Something was different. I sprang up from bed, in my haste moving He Who Shall Not Be Disturbed (my cat). I only had moments to spare. Liquid shits erupted from my rectum like lava finally erupting from their prisons of earth. Forget what you know about diarrhea. This was so much of a liquid that you could run it through a Brea filter and still have it look brand new.

It coated everything. Only, I did not realize the extent of the catastrophe. I tried wiping to no avail. It coated my rectum like a thousand layer burrito, and nothing could remove it. Somehow, it got worse. It had somehow even coated areas…. beyond the hole. Fingers brushing what should be free real estate or even stray hairs came back…. Traumatizing. Two full loads of toilet paper flushed, and I finally decided to take a shower. Forty minutes of scrubbing everything multiple times, and I still felt dirty. I could still smell that foul odor, despite using half a can of air freshener to cover up the scent of my creation. I could still hear the anguished screams (and laughter) of my fiancée as the scent traveled through the barely open door, cursing her with its wrath. I could still see the shart in my underwear, my great act of destruction upon humanity.

Hours later, I’m still terrified. I can still smell it in the air. I still feel dirty. My family will be shamed for generations. This is a core memory. My life has been changed forever.

Tldr: I sharted, felt dirty, got really sad ):