Originally Posted: 2005-06-02 12:20pm

The evil clams will not thwart me

So yesterday night I'm leaving the city to go back to my boring home in the suburbs. After booking it over to the subway, I made it onto the Metro North train with a good few minutes to spare. There weren't too many seats available, but I did notice an empty bank of seats right next to the bathroom. Normally I would avoid the bathroom-area seats like the plague (funny smells tend to emerge from train bathrooms) but this one was already locked and the train wasn't moving yet. Conveniently enough, the conductor was walking by and I asked him if the train bathrooms were open at this time. He told me no, they had already been cleaned so they were all locked for the voyage. Knowing this, I took my seat.

About 5 minutes after the train pulled out of the station, however, I felt stabbing pains begin to shoot through the middle of my body. I didn't need Dave Chappelle around to tell me what I was dealing with; this was without a question the warning sign of a nasty case of mudbutt. I also didn't need Sherlock Holmes around to tell me what was behind the mudbutt in question; I immediately realized that I should have gone with the chicken parmigiana at dinner instead of the linguine with white clam sauce. But that was in the past. In the here and now, I was facing 50 minutes of train ride and 5 minutes of car ride before I was going to see a bathroom, and it was very clear that I had some serious mudbutt brewing. Something was going to have to give.

As the thoughts were racing through my mind, the train began to slow down as it reached its first stop at 125th Street. A bunch of additional passengers came on, including (much to my displeasure) an older Asian guy who proceeded to sit down right next to me. I probably would have laughed if another round of stabbing pains hadn't just begun to shoot through my body; I knew this poor old guy was about to experience a round of noxious farting from the guy next to him that haunts only a man's darkest (maybe smelliest?) nightmares.

10 minutes later, the gas started flowing. I ripped a giant fart and immediately felt sweet relief as the pressure inside my colon finally began to subside. Fart #1 was swiftly followed by his pals #2-5, and the odor they emitted was intense. The old asian guy sitting next to me certainly noticed, and he made his decision quickly. About 30 seconds after the first gas escaped from my anus, he stood up and walked to the opposite end of the train car and found a different seat. You had to hand it to him; he knew what was coming and wanted no part of it. My neighbors in the seats around me should have followed his lead.

The next 20 minutes were more of the same. Stabbing pains followed by massive farts which relieved the pain, only for the cycle to start up again a minute later. By now there were only 2 brave passengers who remained in my third of the car, despite the fact that the train was fairly full. Finally, as a fart was about to come out, I felt the real mudbutt begin. I pulled in the wetness that was about to explode into my best suit (okay, my only suit...I was in the city for job interviews) with only a second to spare. And I still had 20 more minutes on the train and 5 minutes in the car before I would see my bathroom. I was sure I was doomed.

And then it stopped. I sat in my seat, waiting for the gas and the pain and the mudbutt to start coming again, but it didnt happen. For 15 minutes I rode the train in relative comfort. I was starting to think that this whole episdoe was going to have an anticlimactic ending.

Boy, that was some optimistic thinking.

As the train was one stop away from home, it finally happened. The mudbutt that had been patiently waiting in the upper reaches of my large intestine finally made its glorious move towards freedom. I sucked my sphincter in with all my might in hopes of holding it back, but the mudbutt did not want to be denied. As I left the train and started towards my car, I was half running, half hobbling in a desparate attempt to keep my poor suit alive and spare me from some serious embarassment. I fell into the passenger seat (my father had come to pick me up) and said "Drive home. Fast."

And off to the races it was! My dad made what would normally be a 5 minute drive in about 3 minutes. I jumped out of the car, stormed inside, ran for my bathroom, pulled down my pants, and hopped on the toilet. The timing was perfect. I finally lost control of my bowels while I was in the process of sitting myself down, so the only damage done to anything was a bit of unfortunate splatter onto the toilet seat and my thighs, which was easy enough to clean up. With the aid of my trusty toilet and some Immodium, I spent the next hour clearing the evil clams out of my system.

Next time I'm getting the chicken parm.

post id: 76602975

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