New Years Y2K was a very good time. People partying hard in the cities. Getting trashed, stoned, and otherwise generally crazed. Stockpiling food, water and assorted submachine guns in preparation for the certain downfall of civilization, scheduled precisely for 000 hr, 1/1/2000. And, as everyone knows, the party just isn't over until everyone drives home (to play with their newly acquired submachine guns).

Well, I spent the time with good friends on a pack trip in party-central, Wyoming. Apart from the normal fun-with-poop associated with camping trips (crapping with your ass in the snow, pooping into little bags and tubes that you then get to carry around in your pack, etc.), the party wasn't over on the drive home.

We're driving responsibly down I-80, cruise control set at a reasonable 20MPH over, my car in the lead. Then, one of the other cars in our caravan decides he wants to lead. Having none of that sort of thing, I ease on the gas. Now we're kind of exceeding recommended speeds (105-110MPH range), and the offender is just barely in front of me. The shotgun window rolls down and the passenger starts to climb out of the window (don't try this at home, he's a trained idiot).

"What's he got in his hand?!?!" my passengers exclaim, just as he lobs a wad of napkins at my windshield. Now, it's not uncommon for us to throw bits of unwanted material at each other's cars while driving, but this one was very unwanted. It hit my windshield with a bit more of a thud than your average wad of napkins. As it quickly rolled over my car, it left a bit of a brown streak behind.

"What the hell WAS that!?!?" in stereo.
"Shit if I know."
"Ahh..... Shit!" in stereo.

Only a freak from Wyoming would come up with this sort of thing. Somewhere between Rock Springs and Rawlins (for those that don't know, there is NOTHING there and nowhere to stop) the passenger of the offending car developed an overwhelming need to take a crap. This is the weird part -- the driver gives the guy some napkins from the glove compartment, and let's him go to work right there in the front seat. Of course, disposal after the deed was rather simple.

Really, I was lucky, though. The poop filled napkin (Berliner of sort) didn't have time to gain much speed before it hit my windshield -- so it didn't do much but roll off. Washer fluid took the fresh skid mark right off.

The number three car in our caravan wasn't as lucky. With another 30ft for relative acceleration, the flying poo-bomb hit hard and exploded. Smack dab in the middle grill of car number three. My car was thoroughly entertained by the brown splatter that now decorated the front of the car behind us. Bits of torn napkin here and there, with the occasional piece ripping free to float peacefully behind us. Of course the contents of the speeding napkin was unknown to those in the second car.

By the time we stopped in Rawlins, the poo had dried to form a solid brown cement holding bits of the napkin in place. Everyone (except the owner of car number three) was literally rolling on the ground crying with laughter. The owner of the poo used the sqweegee/sponge thing in a feeble attempt to clean splatter off. But the dried poo held on with a tenacity that could only be overcome with a high-pressure wash.

-- Justin