Oh Shhh!

Lil man ordered his usual two 12” Tuna Subs on flat bread, toasted. He even had the nerve to have them put spinach and honey mustard on both sandwiches. “Put some pickles on dat muthaphucka n shyt. Ya’ll be wildin, countin pickles WTF”.

th[2]

He knew he was wrong more like out of control but bowed his head and gobbled them down with a Cherry Coke, while ignoring the first bubble his stomach had made before he finished the first samich. The signs were clear. The signals were felt and when he broke wind, the smell was nothing more but a symbol of what was to come. (Cloud bubble to himself… I can handle this, right?)

As he left the house, heading for work he knew he was playing himself, (Cloud bubble to himself…I should have gone to the bathroom). “I can do this”. His stomach started to bubble-bubble and boil and for an instant he knew he was not going to make it. So he tried to walk faster. He tried to hold it in. He squinted and squeezed his butt cheeks for dear life but it was coming despite his foolish effort. Lil man was almost there The CNN building and the Congressional Center was insight. The first trickle seeped through leaving a mushy warm feeling. (Cloud bubble to himself… OMG! It’s that liquid shyt).

He began to breakout into a cold sweat. As he passed the Philips Arena it was beginning to reveal itself, the deadly & messy stink bomb from Subways was about to surface. No more breaking wind cause that’s so not the move nor what’s next to come. By now he was in full panic mode looking for a place to hide and drop his evil load. Holding his stomach, he tried to think of something pleasant but all he could think of was water and the comfort of a toilet bowl, which made matters worst. Poor dude started walking even faster then he slowed down his pace; rocking side to side legs now shaken but that wouldn’t fool Mother Nature. It’s about to take its course. Now the spring is about to be sprung. The uncontrollable fountain erupted and sprang out globs of dat gourmet style human feces.

It was that here it come feeling. More like that not givin a phuck, out in the middle of the street reaction, pulling down his pants, not worrying about the belt, type of feeling and situation. Nahmean! So he did just that and was lucky that nobody was around to see a grown man spread his cheeks and take a squat and a dump in the middle of the street, dead center of “Surveillance Central”. He prayed the guys monitoring the CCTV activity were sleeping. He got most of it out but had no toilet paper, only a damp wash clothe which later he had to throw away after he folded and wiped, folded and wiped, folded and wiped.

000_0019

It must have felt like he wiped his azz foreva. He couldn’t wipe enough. Dude was almost there, at the work site but shamelessly rolled dice and got craps.
He’s now an embarrassed member of The Loaded Looser Club of America, messing in his pants and smelling that ole too familiar homeless person scent and wearing it well. Lil man smelling like one who said “Phuck it, so what I shyted on myself” type of aroma. He waved down a cab and as soon as the driver got a whiff he pulled off yelling “Oh hell, no nicca gotta go, gotta go”.

Dude was forced to get back on the train homeward bound, stood in the corner of the car, not making eye contact with passengers. He knew others smelt him but he played it off, looking around as if to say “It ain’t me”, reading signs and posters like he was really interesting, as if he was into the message. When he got home, stripped and let the hot water hit his nasty ass he washed and scrubbed shaking his head. All he could say was “Oh Shyt” how embarrassing and how sad.

Heaven is at the foot of Mother…

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