After reading the brutally honest tales of people spoiling their skivvies,
I've decided to post a story of my own. It happened during the second
week of second grade. I remember it vividly.
My day started out normal
enough: I cried and tried to avoid going to school with zealous fervor. My
efforts were fruitless, and I was on the bus to school at 8:00 am. By the time I arrived,
I already knew something was amiss. My usual sociable nature
was curbed by the potent brew that my stomach was churning up.
Naturally, I fought it with every ounce of strength I had. If any of you
remember, elementary school was not the place to be caught hanging the nappy
root. Our stalls had no doors and the toilet paper was chained to the walls
with rusty chain links... not the most conducive environment for plopping a
steamer.
My previous attempts of unloading some stank nuggets resulted in
other kids throwing wet wads of toilet paper at me while I was on the
throne. Then, once back in class, one little a-hole told everybody I just took a
reeking dump. I already had a reputation and I wasn't about to add to it.
So I tried to ignore the angry brown hitchhikers in my stomach and carried
out the day. I was doing great -- I quelled the pain in my gut and I was
having a good time. Then came recess.
We were all outside and I was
sitting on a log (which is pretty ironic). I felt safe so I decided to get
rid of some pressure and squeeze off a little fart. Wrong damn move.
I felt a hot blast of froth shoot out my ass and dribble down my leg. I was in
total despair -- this was the beginning of the end. I ran to the crapper and
cleaned my self, ripping off my turd-covered underwear and chucking
them in the garbage.
Relief? I thought I was good. No one had seen me, and I felt ten times
better, so I went back to class with a sunny disposition. The teacher
handed us an English test and I started plugging away. I felt another fart
coming along and thought there was no harm in busting a little ass.
Apparently I hadn't learned my lesson.
Because with that fart came a gurgle
from my ass and an entire payload of rank shit. I felt the squish in my
pants and I started panicking. I was shifting around, feeling the murky turd
liquid all over my cheeks. I heard a kid behind me say that it smelled like
someone crapped their pants. I laughed nervously and agreed with him. Soon
the whole class was causing a commotion over the foul stench my shit had
created.
I completely denied all accusations. No one had any proof. I
started blaming other people and soon the attention was drawn off me. The
teacher, who had been walking around, suddenly stopped right behind me. I could tell she was
inspecting my seat for turd residue and she most have seen something incriminating.
She
asked me if I needed to go the bathroom and I blew up on her and said no.
Just then the bell rang and it was time to go home. This is what I was
dreading: now I had to stand up and reveal to everyone my shitty pants.
To top it off, I wore shorts that day, so when I stood, a big sloppy log rolled
down the back of my leg, leaving a trail of slimy shit juice behind it. I
ran to the bathroom and waited for hours for everyone to clear out. Then I
walked home.
Luckily I moved away a year later.
-- Turdcutter
