Oh fuck, taco bell was a mistake.

I never should have come, I know better. My body can't handle whatever clandestine greases and juices go into taco bell's "secret recipes" but the whole group was going, so I figured I'd tag along. I wouldn't eat anything, but I'd just hang out and chat. Of course this wasn't good enough, when I revealed my plans to the group Clara blurted out, "Oh so you're too good to eat with us." What? What does that even mean? But suddenly I was the villain as both Carl and Flaxton both seemed to agree with her sentiment. "Fucking whatever, I'll get a burrito." My capitulation complete, I sat down with everyone and decided to just make the best of it. I'll be fine, the night of the incident I had multiple spicy crunchwraps, I've learned my lesson. My mind at ease, I bit into my burrito. Damn, tasted pretty good actually, the melted cheese and hot beef were a phenomenal blend, I gulped the grease pouch down in minutes. Feeling rejuvinated, I joined in the conversation, "Yeah dude, my urologist is the same way, he hasn't called me back yet..."

Uh oh. My stomach felt unstable. This can't be happening, surely I could handle one burrito? In the moment time slowed, I realized my body was rejecting taco bell's offering. "No, I need more time," I whispered. I slowly stood and started to limp towards the bathroom. The chatter died down as the three witnesses became concerned. "Uhhhhh dude... where you heading?" Flaxton grunted. That's when the dam burst. With a mighty rippling thunderclap my asscheeks were rent asunder and my shame burbled down my pant legs with ferocity. I screamed and fell forward, but there was no escape from myself. Then Carl opened his whore mouth, devoid of pity or humanity, "dude did you just shit your pants?" I didn't answer as the acrid stench filled the air. I slowly stood and hobbled towards the bathroom. Silence fell over the bell as employees stopped bustling and other patrons fell quiet.

All eyes were on me. my steps began to squelch, it had seeped into my shoes at this point and I was leaving behind a bit of a trail, in case someone wanted to find me later. I'd like to say I put on a brave face, but my shame was too great. Tears were streaming down my cheeks as I marched slowly towards the restroom door, a march that dragged on for an eternity. I finally reached the stall, stripped off my shit filled pants and began sobbing uncontrollably as a second round of fresh hell spewed from my raw anus. At this point my cell phone rang, and I fumbled in my soggy pants pocket to pull out my now thoroughly unhygenic samsung. I put the phone to my ear and drew a shuddering breath. "Hello?" "Sir it's Dr. Paisley, I have your test results here. I'm sorry to inform you that the tests were positive, you have stage 3 testicular cancer."