Below is a story from my day at the public library. It's a gross, disgusting story involving not one, but two bodily excretions. May I suggest the squeamish close this thread and walk quietly away?
Here beginneth my tale. You've been warned.
So, it smelled pretty foul out here at the desk. The P-trap in the women's room is often an issue, so I got my Lysol and my watering can of warm water and headed into the ladies room. It smelled terrible! Just rank ass stench of the most profound quality. I poured some warm water in the drain, poured Lysol over it and then more warm water. A momentary respite, then I'm hit again with this dire ambiance.
I walked back into the little hall between the bathrooms, opened the door to the men's room and was immediately enveloped in a fog of poo stench so foul, so rancid, my lunch turned over in my belly and threatened to exit forthwith. Gagging and crying, I stepped within sight of the toilet and there, on the front inner curve of the bowl, was the biggest dump I've ever seen in my life. It was the size of a cow patty, but oddly still elongated. A turd about 5 inches in diameter that had folded back on itself. My stomach lurched again and I ran from the room gasping.
There's no place to get away. The whole first floor smells of dump. Patrons are starting to look at me funny. It's been a slow morning and I know for certain only one male has been in that bathroom. That intestinal sculpture was created by none other than Shopping Bag Joshua. A faint miasma of body odor barely detectable through the stench of the busted dook needlessly confirmed my conjecture. And he was gone and all he left behind him was the greater part of his lower intestines. How happy he must feel right now, his stomach lighter than air, his asshole clearly the size of an espresso saucer!
So it was back in the bathroom, with a paper towel over my nose. I darted forward and quickly, because I was afraid, I flushed the toilet. The water ran up, the water ran down. And the folded turd sat in isolation, splendid, brown and odiferous on its proud perch above the waters. I wept. Not with fear, but as a defense mechanism. My gorge rose again and again. I vomited in the sink.
Back to the workroom for more water, more paper towels to gag into. I thought perhaps if I just poured enough water, I could get the flabby chunk of intestinal matter to go south where it belonged. I held my breath while I poured, trying not to look, but finding I could not pour blind. I kept catching glimpses of the ejectamenta, glimpses I knew would haunt me every time I stepped into a public bathroom. I flushed again and for a brief heady moment, it seemed victory would be mine. The swirling brown waters rose high, high, higher and moved the vermidung closer to final expulsion from this realm.
And then the waters stopped. They stilled and lay there, cloudy and arrogant, taunting me with their half-finished task. The great poop had moved so far, but water could move it no farther. Almost certainly, stouter tools were required. And I knew that my part in this farce was over. I had done all I could be expected to do and more. Gently, I closed the door behind me. Carefully, I made a sign "out of order." Quietly, I walked to the breakroom. Sweetly, I broke the news to Isabelle, the facilities person on duty.
I don't know what will happen next or when it will happen. I sit cowering at my desk. Patrons know something is wrong. They can quite literally smell it. But they smell something else. They smell my fear, my horror, my futility.
But mostly, they smell Shopping Bag Joshua's Enormous Unflushable Shit, the kind of shit any man could be proud of.