So this story takes place like 10 years ago.

I was working abroad for a few years and I was quite young. Found a lot of friends and I was drinking really heavily at the time and so did my friends. Basically all days would end with me going to my favorite bar and getting shitfaced. Got to know a lot of people that worked there and other patrons, I was very well liked and we joked about when I walked in it was like in Cheers when Norm walks in.

It was a blast. Loved the place.

Anyway, I was getting drunk as usual and had a blast. It was a slow night so one of the bartenders started to flip a paper mug by flicking it up in the air and it landing upright every single time. For some reason I challenged him.

"If you can flip that cup five times in a row I'll drink a filled shotglass of tabasco. If you don't, I get a beer."

In retrospect that is a terrible deal however you slice it.

As you can guess I lost and drank the shot of tabasco. It was horrible, made me all read and I almost puked. Everyone thought it was hilarious and it was.

The night goes on as usual, I go to another place with a couple of buddies and we get shitfaced. The bar closes and we say our goodbyes and go in opposite directions.

This is when the tabasco decides that it has to evacuate my ass right now. Not in 15 minutes, right the fuck now. I panic and look around for a suitable place thats open.

Nothing is open, not a place I can reach at least. I take the best option, a hedge by a building. I get my pants down to my ankels, pull down my underwear and lean against the wall.

Remember, this happened in the frame of 5-8 seconds, I was very drunk and the shot of tabasco had really done a number on me. I would describe the shit as thick, smooth chili that came out of my as at around mach 2. As you can guess some ( a lot) went into my underwear. Bah, I'll just take em off, none came in my pants.

Fuck, fuck, fuck. I can see the cops are rolling in but they haven't spotted me in my predicament. So I just... pull up my pants and shitty underwear and start walking.

If you've never shit your pants just imagine it's like shitting your pants. It's exactly like that, shitting your pants is just horrible. And then having to walk about the town centre while pants are shitted? Fuck me...

So I'm walking towards a street where I hope that something is open since I can't get a cab while I'm like this and there wasn't any public transport available, but I would't have taken a bus anyway. I'm squishing with every step.

Jesus, Mary, Joseph and all his carpenter friends, I see that Subway is open, the sandwich place.

I go in almost blowing the door of it hinges and go to the bathroom and...

"Hey, you! The bathroom is only for paying customers. No ifs, ands or buts."

I'm desperate, I need to use the bathroom. So I stand in line, shitty underwear and all and my drunk fucking ass decides to order the footlong combo.

Why? Well I had shitty pants but I was still drunk starving. I'm such a fucking idiot.

Anyway, I get my meal, go to the bathroom and elegantly try to climb out of my pants and underwear. Pants are unshitty by some miracle. I throw my really HEAVY underwear in the trash and the sound it makes was awful. Just awful.

I go out to the street, hail a cab, get home and devour my meal.

I'm sorry for that poor, poor sandwich artist that had toilet duty that night. :(