Jeff and I have always been fascinated with grossing each other out in competition. It started in high school (yes, I'm a grown adult and no, I don't care about the immature nature of my past) with licking our hands when the other wasn't looking and then wiping it directly on the other guys face, yelling "Ball sweat, ball sweat, I wiped ball sweat on your face!!" I know, I know, you're saying "How could they possibly out do that amazing prank?" Tough act to follow.
We ended up progressing to the old fart-in-the-face trick, putting pubic hairs on each others toothbrush, pleasuring ourselves in each others shampoo bottles (I'm not proud of that one), and other jerky stuff. Even though all of this was great, we were overlooking the greatest folly known to man! It finally occurred to me. Pooping! That's where the fun begins.
Right before we left for our annual trip with the carnival, I proposed a challenge my partner in grime. I said, "Let's have a poop contest!" Jeff replied with, "What do you mean?" I said, "I'm not sure, but I'll figure something out!"
We set off on our journey. First stop: New Jersey. We checked in at the hotel after driving for about six hours. We both had to poop, so we rushed the bathroom door, knowing the other would suffer from losing this race. I decided to poop in the trash basket in the bathroom. It had a plastic liner, but I figured I'd stay in there just long enough for the stench to rise.
I exited the bathroom only to get run over by an anxietious person dying to use the facilities. After about five seconds I heard a loud "AHHHHHH!!", which lead to me falling off the bed, hysterical from laughter.
But things were quiet. Too quiet. All of a sudden, Jeff came flying out of the bathroom, laughing like a deranged elephant and swinging in circles above his head a plastic trash basket liner. He had added to my pile and thought it would be "funny" to throw the tied up bag of waste at me! It hit the wall with a splat/thud-like sound. Offended, I picked it up and whipped it back at him. This went on for about five minutes before we began to notice something was wrong. THE ROOM SMELLED LIKE SHIT!
It hit like a ton of bricks. I couldn't breathe! It was horrible (yet, somehow funny, since we both couldn't stop laughing). I yelled, "Open a window, FAST!" but we were on the 5th floor and the windows did not open. Terrified, we ran out of the room and into the hallway. "What the hell are we gonna do now?" Jeff said. "I don't know, asshole! You started it!" was my reply.
Truly a real dilemma. We decided to say "screw the room" and have more fun with the feces. We took turns placing it on the elevator and sending it to a random floor for a bit, but somehow it wasn't as fun. So we decided to put it in the ice machine and checked out.
Here's where the competition came in. The idea was to poop in the most outrageous place without getting caught. Since this story could easily be 5-6 pages long, I'll just run down the events.
- A dump on top of a toilet at a truck stop, replied with a dump on the roll of toilet paper and dispenser (that was a little difficult). One point for Ass Phlegm.
- A pile in a McDonalds bathroom sink, replied with one in the urinal. One point for Jeff.
- A turd in an ashtray on top of the motel TV
- a turd dropped on a napkin and tossed off the balcony onto the bench in the courtyard.
- A poop in a cut-open can of Coke which was then put back in the bottom of the soda machine
- A poop dropped straight from my ass onto the yellow pages... opened up to "S" for shit, then closed and put back in the vending room.
- A pile on the hood of a car (at night)
- A pile dropped into a sunroof of a car (that one goes to Jeff).
Well, the games continued on and on all the way back home from the trip. There was one more rest stop before we hit our destination. One more chance to go for the gold. I was in the lead and Jeff was not happy. He kept rattling off places to shit and I would knock them down, claiming they would not beat my last victory. (I can not reveal the place I pooped that put me in the lead -- people are still looking for me!)
As we entered a Roy Rogers rest stop, he asked what he could do to win. After going in, I said "Take a dump in the ketchup dispenser!" He wasn't interested. He was, however, determined to win, so he kept hounding me where to put his final piece. Tired of his whining I broke down and said, "O.K., if you shit in the bubbler, you win."
(Editor's Note: People from places like Massachusetts call a water fountain a "bubbler.")
He thought about for a few minutes, looked at me and said "How?" I said, "Back up to the bubbler (kiddie height), slowly bring the back of your pants down, push one out and then we'll make a break for it!" He thought some more. "I'll do it!" he exclaimed. He took off and I took care of the garbage and wrappers from our meal. (Well, I didn't want to leave a mess! That would be uncivilized!)
After I finished, I walked around the corner to where the bubbler was. Sure enough, there was Jeff backed up against it, looking all around to make sure the coast was clear. Then all of a sudden, HE PULLS AN UNCOVERED TURD FROM HIS COAT POCKET AND DROPS IT IN THE BUBBLER!!
What was this?! It seems while I was cleaning up the table, he sneaked into the bathroom, pooped a small pickle-size nugget on the floor and put it in his pocket.
Jeez, what some people won't do to win! We ran outside and he quickly rubbed his hands in the dew-covered grass (like that's gonna help), and we headed home. I had to smell his filthy hands the rest of the way as he laughed it up.
Of course, I won by default, but to this day he claims to be the winner of the 1997 Ass Olympics. I say, "Can you really be a winner with your own feces on your hands?" You be the judge.
Like Ass Phlegm? He's featured in The Journal of Ass Production [2]!
--Ass Phlegm [1]