My freshman year of college, I was in the Army ROTC program at my school. Every semester we did an FTX. This is where we went out with all our gear and camped in the woods. Because of the nation's current military level, our funds were cut short, and most of the supplies we needed (bullets and rifles) were diverted elsewhere. As a result, our normal trip for the weekend was cut short to just one day.
Military food is great. We ate two meals out in the woods that day; both were MRE's. If you've ever tasted an MRE, or meal-ready-to-eat, you'll know they are pretty tasty. Behind the seven-year shelf life of these dehydrated entrees is a hidden power.
Maybe it was the sub-zero temperatures, or the fact we were pretty busy all day, but for some reason I felt no desire to poop the entire trip. The slight pressure I felt building in the morning from wolfing down cold pizza before I left actually disappeared when I ate lunch.
We got back to school about 11 o'clock that night. Having hiked back to my room, I began taking off my uniform and what not. Maybe it was the fact I was finally warming up, or maybe the MRE's were ready to release their own version of the atomic bomb, but I suddenly had to go bad. Deep inside my bowels, a secret army was preparing to wreak havoc down on my poor butt.
I sprinted across the hall to the row of stalls in the bathroom. I squatted and began to squeeze hoping for some relief. I could feel it pushing. I didn't want to quit pushing because I felt like it was squeeze back up.
No amount of physical training could have prepared me for the battle I was facing deep in my intestines. I thought I was going to blow. In my last ditch effort before collapsing from fatigue, it happened. Slowly, I felt it sliding out. Totally unlike any other turd had ever felt. It kept going, and I felt my hole grow to an unimaginable diameter -- a feeling that lasted for days. I was perplexed, but also excited, knowing that my creation was going to be something to be proud of.
One turd went, then nothing. The feeling was gone. No pressure, no nothing.
Every other crap I had ever taken at least entailed some pee, multiple turds, or even a fart or two. But this was it. I stood up and wiped. And to add to my perplexity -- there was no mess. Apparently whatever had fallen from me was it. No mess, and no friends.
I turned around to admire what caused this amazing occurrence. Sitting there, staring back at me, was the biggest, blackest log I had ever seen. My jaw hit the floor and my heart erupted in joy. It was amazing.
As much as it hurt to do so, I knew I had to say goodbye and flush it away. I pressed the lever down, and the water began to swirl and recess into the hole. But that was all that was swirling. But my little commando sat motionless. It was caught on the sides of the hole and couldn't be broken.
The bowl filled back up, and still it sat. My heart was going wild with excitement. There he stood. He hadn't retreated -- nor had he been broken. He almost mocked the toilet, knowing it would take more then a simple flush to quell him.
I snapped to attention right there in the stall and saluted America's Finest. I left my trophy lying there for the next guy to come and admire. I never found out how they got him down, but I'd like to believe he fought the good fight and stood his ground till the bitter end.
-- Pittdude
