A drunken night out with new workmates...
We're all sat around the table, gradually teasing more and more information out of each other, the stories getting increasingly rambunctious as the booze flowed.

It was all very jovial and the high spirits convinced me that telling them of a shameful, but to me hilarious, story from my past would be a fantastic idea.

I had a few false starts, the sober side of my brain kept trying to stop me telling the story. By this only increased their desire to hear it. They we're practically salivating at the mouth by the time that I decided that giving them what they want would be a fabulous way to ingratiate myself with my colleagues.

So I told the story of how on graduation night from college I got steaming drunk and a classmate dropped a couple of pills in my pint, unbeknownst to me. I attacked the booze with an unusual verocity - pints in a couple of gulps, endless and increasingly preposterous shots and cocktails, when suddenly I began to feel a little queer.

I went to the toilets with the intention of throwing up, but found myself falling unconcious instead. I was roused a couple of hours later by a fellow classmate, who dragged me out of the pub and put me in a cab, giving the driver money and an address to take me home to.
The same driver who kicked me out the cab as soon as he was out of sight of the pub. (I may have thrown up, I'm not sure)

I crawled, literally, home. The mile long journey taking about 4 hours.

Somehow I managed to struggle into bed, thinking the ordeal was over...

...it wasn't.

I awoke sometime later, it was dark outside and something was wrong. Wet and wrong. A quick rummage under the sheets revealed what I feared. I'd shat myself, spectacularly.

I went into the toilet and stared in the mirror in amazement as one of the turds slid slowly down my back - how did it get there, I wondered in amazment.
I showered, ripped the sheets of my bed and threw them out the window in a haze of bewildered confusion. Fresh sheets on and clean I collapsed into the bed gain, tears welling up in my eyes - the misery was overwhelming, but at least the ordeal was over...

...or was it...

...no...it wasn't.

I awoke some time later, it was bright out and something was wrong.

"Christ, no" I thought.

Not to worry though, I hadn't shat myself again, I'd only pissed myself. The sheets were soaking wet.

I went throught the same miserable process as before and finally slept without losing conrol of myself again, only to be woken by the sound of my furious neighbour demanding from my parents an explaination for the pile shitty and pissy sheets strewn over the roof of his shed.

The gales of laughter I expected from my workmates never appeared. Some got up and left the table, others simply shook their heads in a strange mix of disbelief and disgust, all ignored me for the rest of the evening.

I'm still with the company.
(Smell eep!, Mon 10 Sep 2007, 12:02, Reply)