Here’s a ‘What Do You Do?’ scenario: say you’re on campus and you live in an apartment with, oh let’s say 7 other males or females. Now, lets say that there is a couple of bathrooms in this swanky apartment. You’re in your room on Facebook and you realize that you have to take a nasty shit. You walk out of your room that was locked and you notice that everyone has left (maybe they all had classes, I don’t know). You find this to be a good thing because you’ve been wanting and waiting months to finally have a nice shit (# 2 for those of you who aren’t hip to the derogatory slang), without the need to do weird sounds to flood the sound of your shit plashing in the water or the sounds of you farting beastly.

You even open the front door and look out the windows to make sure your mates aren’t lingering around outside; they’re not, so you get all happy and stuff like a relapsed crackhead. You proceed to the bathroom, lock the door—then check again to make sure the door is really locked, it is. You then unzip those jeans, and a take seat on the toilet. You jump a little having just felt the coldness of the plastic friendly seat, but you don’t mind, because your boo-tay will warm it soon enough. You’re freaking smiling ear to ear, ecstatic to experience this moment of freedom. You actually have time to admire the décor in the bathroom, discovering everything in it for the first; this act of discovery wasn’t possibly before. You plash away and fart away! You’re in this state of euphoria! Meanwhile the smell of your freedom is building up because you didn’t flush once your brown logs dropped.

Suddenly you hear voices from the thin walls that lead to the outside hallway. They’re coming closer and you recognize that it’s 5 of your mates and their friends too. Shit, you say quietly. You still have more logs that are waiting for deployment. The key unlocks the front down and all walk in. You’re sweating and panting, confused and thinking a mile a minute. That euphoric feeling is a distant memory. You’re now in agony and distress. FML! FML! FML! you think, but F-ing your life is the least of your worries.

One of your mates makes a comment “it smells like shit in here”, the others sniff and shake their heads in agreement, ‘yes it does smell like shit in here’. Then your mate goes to the bathroom door, waddles the knob and knocks “who’s in there?”. You’re frozen, heart pounding and eye twitching, but you can’t hold back the pressure of the fart that’s to come. You let loose and your mates all come to the bathroom door, disgusted by the sounds that are coming from behind the locked door. They stand there listening to you break bread. They wait while some ask who’s in the bathroom. They cover their nose, spray and open all windows. What do you do?