It was around 8:00 on a Saturday night during my junior year of college. My friends and I had decided to go out to eat. We drove around for a while until we settled on Zebb's, up in a town near our Syracuse University apartments.
After settling in and ordering our food, my friend Carmen unleashed a rather loud methane cloud, lifting his ass and pointing it directly at me. The problem here: Carmen's farts smell like he has a den of decaying vipers slowly rotting in his ass. Our party of five was dying from the smell and the laughter.
I couldn't let it go without retaliating, so I unleashed a sneak attack while his head was turned. Lifting my ass in his direction, I blitzkrieged him with my mustard gas attack. Everyone in the restaurant was looking our direction as our whole table started cracking up. There's just something about a fart that you can't help but laugh.
This continued for the next several minutes, both of us trying to outgas the other. We stopped long enough for the waitress to give us our food -- we didn't want to make her uncomfortable, of course!
We were eating and joking around when I felt a big one coming. I knew this one would devastate and push back Carmen's invading forces. I pulled in a deep breath of air, ready to exert the full power of this blast, and lifted my ass cheek in his direction. I pushed, expecting a loud ass trumpet to herald in a new champion.
Carmen took one look at my shocked face. "Son, you just shit your pants, didn't you!?" He started laughing uncontrollably, as did the others at the table.
I didn't say a word and ran to the (thankfully) nearby restroom. Closing the stall door, I pulled down my pants to survey the damage. It looked like instead of the fart I was expecting, a bunch of butt weevils escaped. There was a hefty clump of poo sitting in my boxers.
Since I still had to take a crap, I let the rest of it out, which it came, in a diarrhea consistency. I started wiping up, trying to get it off my boxers as well. Most of the solid matter was removed -- however, it left a large brown stain.
One of my friends came in to see if I was all right. I assured him it was fine. I flushed and washed my hands, and went back out to finish dinner. There was no more tomfoolery happening at the table, but we were all giggling.
Finally the check came, and we proceeded out to RJ's car. RJ had to take a piss, so we stood around leaning against his car, shooting the shit. When he came out, he told me to wait before getting in the car. He laid a towel down where I was going to sit, so I wouldn't get any poo stains on his upholstery.
Driving away from that grease-fried bungalow, I looked out the window at the stars. I saw a brown one, smacked against the window where I had leaned against his car. It would remain my little secret.
-- Poop Is My Friend