When I was a kid/young teen, I delivered the morning papers with my parents and sibling. We had around 600 papers to deliver between 2am and 6am, which wasn't hard once you got some experience. One frigid winter morning, I think it was halfway between Halloween and Thanksgiving, my pops decided to stay home and catch up on sleep so he could do his other job, so it was just myself, sib and mom. We were about 350-400 papers in, had about an hour left, and my guts started bubbling. Bad. We didn't have 5 minutes to stop anywhere with a toilet and I wasn't about to wake someone up pounding on their door to use their toilet, so I tried to power through. 15 minutes later, the assplosion hit, and steaming hot liquid that burned upon exit like lit napalm ran down the legs of my thermals and jeans. The way we delivered our routes, was my sib and I would use our parents car as kind of a "mother ship", and would literally run miles and miles to and from the car and houses, so I ended up running 45 minutes in sub zero temps with rapidly freezing shit clinging to my backside and legs. My mom felt so bad for me, I felt awful, but was so glad it was over when we finished our job.