For the purposes of this story, I will continue using the fake name Scarlett while my boyfriend’s fake name will continue to be Genghis.
On Wednesday, Scarlett went back to the doctor at the Unwieldy Bottom Medical Centre. It had been a week since her last visit and she had now been having diarrhoea for 3 ½ weeks. The results of her liquid-poo-in-a-bucket-with-a-paper-plate lab tests were available and conclusively stated that it was probably a virus and there was nothing much anyone could do.
Now, as a woman with diarrhoea, Scarlett had access to certain sanitary paraphernalia – the kind that has wings and is often used as a receptacle for blue liquid under laboratory conditions while Hollywood-beautiful young women roller skate in the sunshine with dazzling white psycho-killer smiles on their faces. The abovementioned paraphernalia could be stuck into the arse-section of Scarlett’s underpants and used as a diarrhoea safety net. This is a far more practical use for such paraphernalia than the absorption of blue liquid because, let’s face it, the only blue liquid that most of us can even think of is that blue sports drink with electrolytes, and most of us prefer to drink it rather than pour it onto our sanitary paraphernalia, especially when we have diarrhoea and need to replace our lost electrolytes.
After getting off track in her storytelling, and after her visit to the doctor, Scarlett decided to pop into TK-Maxx to look for Christmas ideas. Upon observing the screaming child of a mother in the throes of a shopping-crazed mania in the ugly-handbags and gloves section of TK-Maxx, Scarlett felt a familiar fart-ache in the latter part of her large intestine. She confidently pushed the fart out while pretending to examine a last-season’s-factory-reject scarf, and simultaneously shat herself. Not allowing even a hint of an I’ve-just-shat-myself-in-TK-Maxx expression to cast itself across her face, she gingerly headed westwards to the nearby public toilets with thoughts of deceased underpants on her mind, but was pleasantly surprised to find that her winged-paraphernalia had completely contained the blast. Not even minor shrapnel had dared to strike her underpants!
That evening when Genghis came home from work and was shaving his face, Scarlett told him about shitting herself in TK-Maxx. Genghis, the sympathetic man that he is, laughed so hard that he cut his cheek with the razor.
Moral of the story #1: If you have diarrhoea, become a woman.
Moral of the story #2: Brown liquid can be substituted for blue in some circumstances but not others.
Moral of the story #3: Don’t get involved with men that shave their nether-regions, for if you tell them about shitting yourself in TK-Maxx, you could cause them a disastrous injury.
School Project: In groups of five people, complete the following tasks:
- Examine the effects of firing diarrhoea through a diffraction grating. Do you obtain a series of spots on the wall? Measure the slit-separation of the grating corresponding to your favourite spot pattern and deduce the wavelength of your diarrhoea.
- Nominate a group member to run past the rest of your group whilst having prolonged diarrhoea. Measure the Doppler-shift of their diarrhoea as they pass you by, and deduce their running pace. Make sure to follow your school’s “Inclusivity Vision” by not discriminating against any differently-abled group members that can’t run. By the enormous generosity of the brilliant differently-abled physicist Sir Johnny Einstein Kingdom Brown-Arse, all school physics departments have been equipped with wheelchairs that have a hole cut into the seat.
- Bonus Chocolate Fish Question: How many circuits of the school football pitch could Usain Bolt run in the time it takes your group member to reach the school toilets that you have chained shut with your physics teacher’s bicycle chain?
Disclaimer: For legal purposes, it must be stated here that some small details of this discourse are not entirely of the non-fiction variety.