Possibly the worst night of your life....
A Classic tale of booze, poo, vomit and fighting.

Whilst at Newcastle uni, one of my mates used to go out and get twatted on a regular basis. No surprises there. But one night he and his mates had gone on a particularly fruitful Leo Sayer and had ended up in reasonably classy nightclub.

All was going well until one of said mates had realised the days proceedings had caught up with him and that a mighty vomit was imminent. Off he rushes to the bogs only to find that all the cubicle doors are locked and taken.

For those of us who have also been in this torrid situation and there are only a couple of options open to you:

1) Tell yourself to get a grip, take deep breaths and try to hold it in till it either goes away or a toilet becomes available.

2) Think "Fucksocks" and just let rip in the nearest sink/urinal/trough/floor.

So which option does said friend choose?

In fact he chose secret option 3 which involves walking aimlessly around the bogs and then decide to boot one of the cubicle doors in to projectile vomit several gallons of Snakey B, redecorating the inside of the toilet a speckly purple. Unfortunately there just happens to be one large, now very pissed off, Geordie with trousers round ankles, curling one out.

Now what do you do here? Say sorry and leg it to avoid the imminent beating?

No, you get your punches in first whilst he's defenceless, break his nose and cover him in his own blood.

Then leg it.

Let's face it, if you're that guy who has just been covered in sick and got beaten up whilst trying to have a quiet turd, you've had a shit night.

What do you say to your mates when you return to the bar?
(Roy Horn, Wed 7 Sep 2005, 14:47, Reply)