I flush, but the brown leviathan birthed from my anus refuses to succumb to its watery fate. I flush again, but instead of a holy cleansing vortex, my toilet only produces a foul soup. The sickening sewage threatens to overwhelm its porcelain confines--I dare not make a third attempt. I decide to cut my losses, but to my horror I discover the bath tissue has been depleted! Woe is me! I call out, but there is only silence. The next morning, I awake with a start and find myself on the floor in front of the bathroom mirror. I catch a glimpse of my poo-crusted anus and reel in horror. It looks like it's about to burst through my pants. My face is red as an apple. What have I done? What if someone sees me?! I look to the window to hear a clatter and see my dearest Elenor staring at me through the window. She mouths "I told you so!" before she disappears back into her room. How could this happen!? Why was I such a fool!? I walk down to my second bathroom, trousers sliding across the floor. I can a great pooping, knocking on my chamber door. When no one answers, I throw open the door and am greeted by a sight that would shock even those who've seen their fair share of shit: I'm sitting naked on my bed while two maid s stand around me holding towels. They're wearing aprons over their dresses and each one holds up a large bucket. "Oh dear," says one of them. "What happened?" I ignore the maids questions and concerns and demand they bring me my Ten Casks of Amontiado. There are plenty left for me to use today, so I needn't worry about wasting any more. When they return carrying the buckets, I ask what's going on. I slosh through waste and past the maids. my basement toilet is all that remains. They hold the buckets under my nose and say "We thought you might want some help." Help? Help from these servants? I sprint to the toilet, but instead of a porcelain throne, I am greeted by the the Shit Siren, moaning mournfully. A wave of nausea hits me and I turn tail and run towards the nearest sink. "Missus, please sit down," says the maid. The Shit Siren hands you a letter from your dad that if you don't shit you will get his inheritance which is a fortune. You read the letter and realize he wants you to be happy so you decide to do something nice for him. I endure the pressures building inside me. Soon I will have father sitting beside me. He will tell me how proud he is of my progress. Then he'll praise my bowel movements. And then... he'll give me another bag of money. This time it will come with instructions. Instructions to buy a new car. Or maybe a house. Maybe a yacht. But most importantly, a boat. The Shit Siren moans a word of warning: "It won't feel good, Missus." She is right. It doesn't. But I must press on. My father waits. I travel on to yachts for sale, my anus makes me want to wail! I try to focus on the positive--the boats have beautiful names like The Sea Goddess or The Black Widow. Each one has a price tag of $2 million dollars. I see the boat for me: they call it a Cleveland Steamer. I purchase the boat with cash and set sail. I arrive home to find my father waiting in the living room. I rush to the bathroom to relieve myself. I emerge and find my father watching me. His face is filled with pride. He looks at the porcelain, cleaved in twain. A sense of pride is all that remains. I stare at my father's face, trying to understand why. I can't. I look at the porcelain again and find my father's face staring back at me. The moral of the story: If you ever find yourself in a situation where you're about to shit in public, you should just go ahead and do it. No matter what anyone says, you'll be doing them a favor.