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This is a question Shit Stories: Part Number Two

As a regular service to our readers, we've been re-opening old questions.

Once again, we want to hear your stories of shit, poo and number twos. Go on - be filthier than last time.

(, Thu 27 Mar 2008, 14:57)
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"Oh come on, not on the floor!"
It all started like a fairly standard birthday celebration for the guys I work with; beer, more beer, spirits, taxi, kebab, taxi, morning after.

But, for our young hero A (name partially obscured for protection), it was not to be, and soon began his shit story...

After the requisite amount of beer, spirits and kebab, A was bundled into a taxi for transport home. After a number of vomit stops, he eventually arrives home, and is carried semi consciously inside, wherein he feels the kind of urge to shit that can rouse even an unconscious person to the bog, bolts from his carriers and locks himself in the lav.

Time goes by, and whatever is occupying the other drunkards (Guitar hero perhaps) is finally forgotten.

"Where's A?"
"Can't still be in the toilet, surely"
"Shit"

Toilet door is locked, and all is silent, but being worried/inquisitive, the doors lock is bypassed and the carnage within is revealed for all.

Passed out on the (closed) toilet is A, on the floor is a nicely curled, properly proportioned, turd. To his credit, he'd made it far, but not far enough.

To ease the clean up, A is somewhat disclothed, put in the shower, and left to be cleaned.

A in a state of modesty or shame, regains some sense, and locks himself in the bathroom, and again passes out again, in the shower.

Now, here, the biggest mistake was made, the shower in question is combined with the bath, and whatever ungodly soup was made with A in it, soon clogged the drain, and the bath began to overflow.

After sometime, the raining in the kitchen (below the bathroom) soon gets the attention of the others, and again, a lock is bypassed in order to save A.

A is eventually recovered (involving one brave soul wrestling the plug from aforementioned ungodly soup), somewhat dried, and left to sleep.

Two days later, one of the occupants of the house arrives home from visiting family, and notices rather large amounts of (still wet)kitchen stuff left outside to dry.

"What the fuck happened?"
"Let me tell you a story"

Apologies for length, but apparently, it did have quite impressive curvature
(, Thu 27 Mar 2008, 15:34, Reply)

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