Twix in the Pants
My junior school is and was a fairly crummy place. As a treat during the all too cool summer months the pupils were allowed to take part in swimming lessons in the unheated outdoor pool. This was bad enough but the changing facilities next to it were something else. There were two wooden shacks joined by a thin wooden wall that playground legend told of having numerous spy holes in so that you could watch the girls getting changed.

One particularly cold day my class had all finished swimming for the day and were getting ourselves changed when someone happened upon a pair of fairly heavily soiled underpants. Once the initial giggles had died down it didn't take long to identify the owner of said smalls. He produced what to this day still hasn't been topped as an excuse for having shat yourself. The night before, he had been led on his bed reading a book when his sister had come in with a mug of hot chocolate. She tripped on her way towards him and by the most amazing chance managed to spill the hot chocolate in his newly cleaned underpants that were sat on his bed. Firstly, how the hell did she managed to spill the hot chocolate exactly in the arsey gusset region of the pants? Secondly, since when has hot chocolate been that colour? Thirdly, did he not have another pair of pants to wear? Things didn't get much better for this chap as he later went through a series of bizarre haircuts, serious anger management issues, had his car crashed into a tree by one of his friends and a girl he had a crush on was taken away by another.

Great times. Scary bloke. Shitty pants.
(edmacfly, Tue 23 Jan 2007, 16:04, Reply)