Poopmare

A nightmare about pooping

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A line of toilets without walls

I’ve been having weird stress dreams lately, mostly just the tedious “I can’t make any sounds!” until I actually yell out in my sleep, but last night’s Poopmare proved much more creative.

I found myself in a large institutional complex in a foreign country, mostly stark white and sterile, with an urgent need for a toilet.

As I navigated the corridors, I quickly found a public toilet, but there was a problem: No walls and no privacy.

I decided to continue my search.

I found toilet after toilet out in the open and was beginning to despair when I came across what appeared to be a couple of toilets behind curtains. I pulled back a curtain to reveal—a shower.

Onward.

At this point I was truly getting desperate and knew I had to take the next available option no matter the conditions, and after a few more twists and turns in the corridors I happened upon a large public restroom.

The room was full of stalls with swinging doors, but the stalls were only about waist-height. With a sense of urgency, I searched stall after stall to find that for some reason the stalls contained only urinals, while the toilets were all out in the open.

I continued into another room to find more of the same. Every toilet was out in the open.

I could wait no longer.

I rushed over to a section of toilets placed in rows, auditorium style, and managed to get on one in the nick of time.

Such a relief!

But there was more to come.

I suddenly found myself constipated halfway through a movement that wouldn’t budge and was too massive to pinch off.

At this point I was far beyond embarrassment and desperately wanted to be out of there, so I reached down and finished the extraction manually.

Finally, done!

Just at that moment, someone walked into the room and took a seat on the toilet next to mine.

I glanced over and noted it was a woman.

Nobody in the busy facility seemed to think any of this was unusual so I just got on with the business at hand.

I stood up to re-dress, and thankfully I was wearing a very long white dress shirt which afforded me some semblance of privacy.

Or at least I _was_ thankful until I realized the long tail of my white shirt had been soaking in the toilet water and was now dripping with brown poo.

I looked down at my feet and discovered they had been splattered in dripping poo as well. In fact, the entire area surrounding my toilet was splattered in brown.

With horror I realized I hadn’t centered myself on the oddly shaped seat and things had really gone sideways.

It looked like a diarrhea ordnance had exploded under me.

Well, nothing to be done about it now except to tuck in my sodden shirt and try to clean my shoes.

That’s when I realized there was no toilet paper.

Thankfully, I noticed a water spigot down low on the wall and used it to rinse off my shoes. Soaking wet feet now, but largely poop-free.

I finally got up and made a quick exit, but just before I left the room I realized I had the handle to the spigot in my hand and would have to return it.

I gritted my teeth and headed back in only to spot the janitor moving toward my toilet and about to discover the disaster that would shock him to the core and surely send him in search of the offender.

I decided better to just drop the handle on a table and get out of Dodge.

And that’s when, finally, mercifully, I woke up.

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