On the night of Friday, October 5, 2007, Max came home from a party very drunk. He lay down on his bed and fell asleep. At about one A.M., he jumped up and told his roommates, Steve and Shaun, "I have to go to the bathroom!!" He stumbled towards the door. He grabbed the dresser for help. But the pressure was too much. His stomach gurgled and a giant shit stain erupted on his pants.

"Oh shit!" he cried. He leaned over on the dresser and muddy, thick brown shit ran out of his pants and down his leg. He groaned and tried to hold it in, but it was too late. Finally, giving in, he tugged on his pants. Still oozing shit, he managed to get his pants half down, at which point he continued to gush like a chocolate fountain on Shaun's carpet. The river of shit split, with half going down his left leg and half running over his clothes.

When he finished, worn out, he sat down on top of Steve's chair. Steve's white towel, which was drying on the chair at the time, took the place of toilet paper. Some of the residual shit dripped off the chair onto Steve's sneakers.

By this time, Steve had begun yelling and pushing Max out the door, towards the showers. Max walked to the shower, leaving a trail of stains in his wake and splattering shit all down the hall.

When Max got back, he tried to mop everything up with Lysol and paper towels. But all he really did was make the hallway worse and the push the stains deeper into the rug. Frustrated, Max put the shit-soaked paper towels on his desk -- specifically, on his open laptop. Then he plopped down and watched SportsCenter until he passed out, surrounded by his own shit.

The next morning, Max woke up to Steve and Shaun carrying the rug out of the room towards the dumpster. "Hey guys, he asked. What's that smell?