Comedy Open Mic - Round 11 - "There is only one rule and that is you must obey all the rules, on pain of death."

in #life7 years ago

From time to time I like to give something back. As long as it doesn't cost me anything or take too much time. This year I'm appealing on behalf of Cancer. If it takes off you can look forward to further appeals on behalf of all the other star signs. BTW who knew astrology was a science that did its own research?

The following account is purely fictional. All characters, events and incidents are the products of the author’s diseased imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental. This never happened. Got it?

For the purposes of this entirely fictional account of events that did not take place, I have chosen to write in the first person. Rather than the third person. Nothing should be read into this regarding the veracity of the tale. It's all lies and nothing like this has ever happened. Not to me and not to anyone else. Don't go drawing erroneous conclusions about anything. In fact I don't see how anybody could, as most of it is like science fiction or fantasy. With this in mind I will commence, but only on the understanding that this story is unbelievable in every sense of the word so it shouldn't be believed.

My lovely lady and I were trying our best to enjoy a peaceful vacation in one of the many wonderful holiday destinations of Europe. We'd both worked hard to afford it and we both needed a break from the daily grind. So why we brought the kids with us is beyond me. Despite my protestations their mother insisted we couldn't leave them at home alone, even if we taught them to forage through neighbors trash. Which I think is a perfectly valid life skill for any under 5 to learn, before they become even more of a burden than they already are. Teaching self reliance is something I have always firmly believed in then and now.

Anyway, kids plus holiday equals misery in my opinion. The thing was they weren't as annoying as usual. They actually started behaving themselves. Mostly because I was giving them huge quantities of money to spend every day. As in "Here take this 20. Then fuck off and leave me in peace for a while." I am literally the perfect modern parent. Bribery worked on them for the entire duration of the holiday, much to our surprise. We'd even managed to have sex a couple of times without interruptions.

We were in the second week and all that hatred and tension we both had towards our jobs had almost vanished. It was possible that by the end of the vacation we'd actually be capable of relaxing. It was at this juncture my lady spotted an Indian restaurant. She was a great fan of Indian food and I had spotted they did an all you could eat banquet. The cherry on this particular trifle however was that they served a delicious alcoholic beverage called SCRUMPY. Scrumpy is to cider as intravenous heroin is to your daddy kissing a broken leg better. It's not that golden color of piss that pathetic cider is. It's green and cloudy and swallowed in lumps. When you drink the good stuff you can actually feel yourself becoming drunk. I'd grown up in a rural area where many a local farmer made his own cider. Which would include ingredients like horse shoes, nails or raw meat. Depending on that particular farmers family recipe. No need to worry though, because those special secret ingredients all dissolve in scrumpy. If they don't, it's thrown away as it's definitely not fit to drink. The proper stuff makes your teeth go furry.

Before you knew it we'd booked a table for 8 o'clock that night. At 8 that night we sat down to a glorious all you can eat Indian banquet. The food was delicious. The staff were fantastic. The atmosphere was perfect and the scrumpy was almost good enough to give you permanent brain damage and cirrhosis of the liver. I had 3 pints of it, then stopped when I couldn't feel my legs any more. I'm no novice where drinking alcohol is concerned so I'd eaten my own weight in Basmati rice. Along with an entire chicken and half a lamb plus a sizable amount of what might have been pork but definitely wasn't beef. I'd had vindaloo, korma, bhuna, jalfrezi and more. There might even have been some vegetables involved somewhere although they do take up room that can be used for meat so there wouldn't have been many. I'd also had to remove my belt and unbutton my pants.

We didn't leave the place until midnight. Nobody else was there so the staff had taken to watching the family who were eating the place clean. So impressed were they that we got free stuff. Although this might only have been to see if they could make us all burst. Our feast completed we took a taxi back to the hotel where the maximum load 8 person elevator had a hard task lifting us to our floor. All four of us fell into bed and did not awaken until the next morning. It was bright and early, we weren't at all hungry yet so we set off for a long walk to build up our appetites. The sun was shining and the birds were singing. The children were still in some form of meat coma at this point. Their treacle like blood unable to flow through their childish veins at any more than snails pace.

At around 11 in the morning I became aware that a toilet break was needed. They took some persuading but eventually the rest of the tribe agreed. In fact our greedy bastard kids stated they'd quite like something to eat. The expedition wandered around for a while. My bowels were starting to complain in the form of agonizing pain. Yet I soldiered on as we searched for a suitable rest stop. My situation worsened to the point where any more delay could have led to a nasty trouser/underwear incident. I had to put my foot down. The next eatery we saw would be where we ate. As luck would have it we turned a corner into what was, we thought at first, a residential street. There, only a few doors away though, was a cafe we could bless with our custom. It was pretty early for lunch so we were the only customers so far.

By now I was in emergency mode. My buttocks clasped so tightly together that my ass was squeaking. We took a table and I headed for the facilities. As has been stated it was a house conversion. A small cafe with the owners living upstairs I'd assume. I shuffled out of the eating area and down a long corridor. Finally I'd found the promised land. The bathroom was exactly that. It was in the singular. One toilet next to a bath. I wasted no time and finally took my seat then released the iron grip of my butt cheeks. The agony ceased almost immediately but 2 things struck me nearly simultaneously. The first was an indescribable stench that was so bad it made me gag and my eyes water. Somehow the cider and 40 different curry dishes had combined with the rice to form a debilitating miasma. This was my own brand but for the first time I could barely tolerate it. The second thing to strike was that it was coming out of my rectum like toothpaste. No firm little individual turds. No, just a constant column of crap that seemed to have no end. I couldn't even stand up to open a window, because once I'd released the valve I'd lost all my control over the situation.

The world was falling nonstop out of my bottom. The flow continued as I fought to control my breathing. Another dilemma. Did I restrict my breathing to my nose, constantly bombarding my olfactory receptors with a serious chemical hazard? Or should I breathe through my mouth and risk tasting it? Before I could make a rational decision it struck me that I'd been sliding that rice paste out for quite a while. I took a look between my legs, having to lift myself to allow some illumination in. As I'd intuited the bowl was filling up. There was barely 2 inches between liquid ordure and the rim. I took the bold decision to flush while I hovered above the seat. It was a good job I did because the bowl very nearly overflowed at this point. For a moment I thought all was lost but happily it subsided as the water diluted the toothpaste enough so it could flow. I was still crapping.

All good things must come to an end as must all giant toothpaste consistency turds. To my relief the most epic shit of my entire life was finally over. I'd lost my sense of smell and would probably require spectacles for the rest of my life but it was over. All that remained was to clean up. I opened a quite large frosted glass window. The cool untainted air felt like a slap in the face. One I badly needed by now. Remarkably, in my opinion, I only needed one wipe. Unfortunately the toilet bowl needed several as there was a tide mark right around the rim an inch from overflow. With some deft tissue and flushing work I returned the toilet to its former pristine condition. Splashed some water on my face as I washed my hands, gave myself a smile in the mirror. The ordeal was over at last. There'd been a few scares but overall I'd say the operation was a success. I could now return to my family. I'd been gone so long I was mildly disappointed they hadn't sent out a search party. I'd diced with death and through courage, strength and perseverance I'd won. Snatching victory from the jaws of defeat several times. I was a toilet god.

After emptying at least a third of my body mass I was actually hungry now. I needed sustenance. Oh how foolish I was having escaped the clutches of doom I'd assumed fate had nothing perilous in store for me. Yet ahead of me lay a journey of such horror I have to give a parental advisory and warn sensitive readers that they may find this story upsetting. Filled with confidence I unlocked and opened the door. At this point the soft breeze from the window strengthened exponentially. My exit was greeted by a child screaming in distress and a woman gasping in horror. Less than 2 feet from me stood a mother. Her hands protectively clasping her sobbing child as it scrubbed its eyes frantically. I'm not exaggerating when I say I could see the panic in her eyes as she desperately tried to back through the wall behind her. In all honesty her bravery dwarfed my own. In her situation I'd have abandoned the kid and run to safety. I'd like to believe I gave her an apologetic glance, but I very much doubt it. If she wasn't going to make her escape I definitely was.

As I previously wrote, the toilet facilities were at the end of a long corridor. The cafe which had been empty when we arrived was now full. A line of at least 15 people, plus children stood, queuing in the corridor. My brain screamed at me to kill myself right there. Instead I soldiered on. Step by step along a 3,000 mile long tunnel of embarrassment. Dragging along a cloud of toxic waste in my wake. Which wouldn't have been that bad if not for the fact I was pushing that same cloud along in front of me as well. I could hear more gasps. Observing, out of the corner of my eye, people flinching as the stench reached them. I told myself that as long as I didn't make eye contact all would be well. I forced myself to accept this fiction as people continued shuddering in horror at my approach and passing. I don't know how many days I spent walking along that corridor. All I know is that at some point I must have stepped into the eating area. I dared not look behind me to check for survivors. There was nothing I could do for them anyway. Not while still avoiding all eye contact.

My heavy heart lifted as I saw my beautiful partner and our fuck ugly kids again. For the first time in what seemed years. Still keeping my eyes constantly moving across the floor and ceiling I hurried to them. I'll admit I wanted to hug them. I'll also admit that was number 7 on my list of priorities. Number one was getting out of there as quickly as possible. To my immense relief they hadn't been served any food yet. My partner and kids had only drinks in front of them. This was ideal. Although I'd probably killed several women and children there was a chance the remaining victims would find it impossible to identify me with their now impaired vision. I moved from foot to foot nervously for a few seconds, feeling the hairs on the back of my neck tingling. I dare not look though for that would have undone me. I'd have descended into insanity I know.

"I'm not really that sure I want to eat here" my tremulous voice muttered. "Let's go somewhere else."
To which the love of my life replied in her stern voice, the one which brooked no further argument.
"I've ordered for all of us. SIT DOWN."

The rest is a bit of a blur but to this day I have a detailed photographic memory of every detail of the white plate and the food I was staring at maniacally until I left the building almost an hour later. There are individual peas and baby carrots I could still describe like they were my brothers. It's over now and most of the time I can block it out. Then every once in a while I'll awake screaming. Shivering and shaking like a dog shitting razor blades, knowing the beast of terror is still out there and it's caught my scent. Which means it's probably crying and scrubbing its eyes frantically.

Don't forget this is all a bit of fun written for the purposes of entertainment. Nothing of this nature has happened and nothing of this nature could happen. It's impossible. This is nothing more than false facts and fake news like everything else on the interweb.

I would like to nominate @beastlybanter and @punchline for the next round.

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Well, I can honestly say that I wouldn't mind losing to you. That was thoroughly entertaining and funny. I have also had experiences of this nature, but it was mostly death farts and luckily there was a Sikh family all around me on the plane, so nobody paid me any mind.

Thanks for the dose of laughter, and enjoy the rest of your evening.

Lovely tale of bathroom humor: Instant classic!

This brings me back to my days living in Houston TX. We were at a less than desirable strip club and I made my way up to the stage to help this young lady work through college, buy baby formula or maybe just support a meth habbit. Who am I to judge? Apon arriving at the stage with my fist full of single dollar bills I could feel my pants get a size or 2 tighter. This good looking little asian gal was dancing and putting on a good show. I am a sucker for Asians a or any one with a vagina for that matter. As she got closer she did the old turn around and shove her snatch in my face move. BLAH! The smell of what ever ungodly concoction was brewing in her downstairs about made me vomit. My eyes started to water and my gut instinct was to throw a large portion of the bills to the other side of the stage in an attempt to get her to retrieve them. As I beat a hasty retreat I realized that getting a hard on the rest of the night was a no go as it would only stir the memory of the horrors I just endured so I did what any man would do. I went back to my table and gave the rest of my bills to one of my friends and told him to go smell that chicks fish taco because it was the most fantastic thing I ever smelled. After he left to the stage I let everyone in on the horror about to unfold. He gets up there and gets the same move I got only he breathed it in HARD. So hard in fact that he instantly threw up right into her butthole. It was the most glorious thing i had ever seen in my young life.

It's of such magical memories that life is made. Although my story was entirely fictional and as such not quite as funny as yours. ROFL

my life is just one long tragic event lol

Thats some crazy creative stuff. If it were I, Iwould have to wait for them ugly kids and wife in the car. cant stand to look at the families that had lost a loved one in that corridor to me.

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