Alright, so...
Well, I guess I'm just gonna go ahead and tell another poop story.
I don't know, what you guys thought you signed up for
when you subscribed to this channel,
but I got a lot of poop stories, what can I say.
And this one in particular is about the first time that I got food poisoning.
Now, this was years ago when I was in my early twenties and broke as hell.
And when you're broke as hell, you tend to eat a lot of fast food.
Now, I'm not gonna tell you which fast food place gave me food poisoning,
I'm not gonna throw them under the bus, because...
well, you know what, to hell with it!
It was Arby's. There, how do you like that?
Kiss my ass, Arby's!
Your goddamn Beef 'n Cheddar gave a bad case of the poops.
To the legal staff of Arby's incorporated:
brewstewfilms apologizes in advance for slandering your ass six ways to Sunday
in this shitty stick-figure cartoon.
Please, don't sue the shit out of us.
Sincerely,
brewstewfilms' robust legal team of Harvard lawyers.
Okay, so like I was saying,
I ate a very delicious,
but very tainted Beef 'n Cheddar sandwich from Arby's.
And this, naturally, gave me a very bad case of the poop several hours later.
Now, what do I mean by a very bad case of the poops?
Well, if you've ever read the classic Aesop's Fable
The Boy Who Cried,
"I GOTTA SHIT AND I GOTTA SHIT RIGHT NOW!"
then you'll know exactly what I'm talking about.
You see, what would happen for the next day and a half,
was that my stomach would be all like,
*
*P
*PH
*PHL
*PHLA
*PHLAL
*PHLALA
*PHLALAH
*PHLALAHA
*PHLALAHAL
*PHLALAHALA
*PHLALAHALAB
*PHLALAHALABE
*PHLALAHALABEL
*PHLALAHALABELA
*PHLALAHALABELAL
*PHLALAHALABELALA
*PHLALAHALABELALAE
*PHLALAHALABELALAEL
*PHLALAHALABELALAELA
*PHLALAHALABELALAELAL
*PHLALAHALABELALAELALL
*PHLALAHALABELALAELALLL
*PHLALAHALABELALAELALLLA
*PHLALAHALABELALAELALLLAP
*PHLALAHALABELALAELALLLAPH
*PHLALAHALABELALAELALLLAPHE
*PHLALAHALABELALAELALLLAPHEL
*PHLALAHALABELALAELALLLAPHELA
*PHLALAHALABELALAELALLLAPHELA*
And then I'd have precisely 14 seconds to find the nearest toilet
before my asshole fell out
and a river of shit destroyed the greater county area.
But the thing is, as soon as I reached the toilet,
instead of shitting out a cascade of ickiness,
all I could muster out would be like half a turd at the most.
*PFFT*
"Oh, what the fuck, that was it?!"
And this would repeat, oh, I don't know...
every 20 minutes or so.
Just over and over again, you know, stomach,
*PHLBBLHBLBHB*
bathroom sprint,
"
"A
"AA
"AAA
"AAAA
"AAAAA
"AAAAAA
"AAAAAAA
"AAAAAAAA
"AAAAAAAA!
"AAAAAAAA!"
and then a squeaky fart half a turd.
Now, I don't know what I did to my life
to wind up in whatever circle of hell I was in,
but it couldn't have been at a worse time,
because I had a job interview the next morning
to go and try to work at a shitty car dealership for the rest of my life.
I don't have time to be dealing with a poop episode right now, that's for sure!
And you might be asking yourself,
"Well, then why didn't you go to a doctor?"
Well, for one, like I said, I was broke as hell,
and I live in America, so there's that.
And for two, even if I did go,
they are probably gonna wanna make me poop in a cup so they can analyze it.
And that shit's pretty fucking weird, if you ask me.
What, do I got to do it in the office
while the doctor's making eye contact with me?
Or do I do it at home, and fucking... shit in a Yahtzee shaker?
Then just bring it in Monday morning, like,
"Hey, here you go,
here's a little bit of me that you can test,
or put under a microscope
or whatever the fuck you do with it."
Yeah, no, I'm good on that.
I'm not going to the doctor, and I sure as hell ain't pooping in a cup.
So the following morning rolls around, and...
well, I'm still the mayor of Poop City, if you will.
Hell, in anything, it's slightly worse,
because now I got a bad case of hot farts to go along with it.
*PFFT!*
*PTTF!*
*PBBB*
*PTSSS*
*PFT*
But I decided to roll the dice and go to my interview anyways.
And of course, I show up late as hell,
because halfway to the dealership I had to pull over at a Circle K
and burst through the door like,
"HEY, CAN I SHIT HERE?!
I SWEAR I'LL BUY A PACK OF GUM OR SOMETHING AFTERWARDS,
I JUST NEED TO SHIT!"
So I sit down for the first time with what would be my future boss,
and at first I thought maybe I should give him a warning beforehand, like,
"Hey, real quick, if I bolt out of this office abruptly,
it's not because I'm not interested in the position,
I just don't want to shit myself in front of another grown man,
you know what I mean..."
But I decided not to, because, well, that would be weird.
Now, the good part of this interview was that it was very short.
The bad part of this interview
was that I totally crop dusted the office with hot farts the entire time.
"So do you have any experience working at a car dealership?"
"Uhm, no, not yet...
*PRRRT!*
but I surely would like to."
*PRRR!*
(Sniffs)
"Oh, that's weird, it suddenly smells like a Kmart in here.
Oh, anyways, we're gonna need you to take a drug test."
"Yeah, I can take a drug test,
*PRRR*
I can do it right now, if it gets me out of here."
*FRRRRRRT*
*PBRR*
So we conclude the interview,
and I walk out of there before the fucking paint start peeling off the walls.
I show up for my drug test afterwards,
still trying to keep my shit together both figuratively and literally.
"Yeah, hi, I'm here to poop in a cup...
err, pee in a cup, I'm here to pee in a cup.
I don't poop in cups, okay?"
"Uh, okay then,
we'll have somebody escort you back as soon as we can."
So I get led back to a bathroom where I can do my business,
and of course, when I get in there,
I can't take a piss for the life of me.
And at first I think, "Well, maybe I can just shit in the cup instead,
after all, *PRRRT* I've been doing plenty of that lately, why not?"
Just pop out of there with half a turd in the cup,
"Hey, you can test this, right? It's all from the same place."
No, no, no, I'm not doing that.
I'm sure my future boss would be getting a phone call five minutes later, like
"Hey, uh... Yeah, that guy you sent in, I didn't even bother testing him.
He shit in a pee cup, for Christ's sake!
I think it's safe to say that he's some sort of crackhead."
So I'm standing there, dick in hand,
thinking about waterfalls and unkinked garden hoses.
All of a sudden I hear the guy standing outside my door start to whistle.
♪ The Andy Griffith show theme ♪
And at first I'm like,
"God damn it, the fucking audacity this guy has
to whistle at a time like this!"
But then suddenly two things started to happen:
One, I started to pee a little...
(trickling noise)
not much, but enough,
and two, my stomach stopped making that
*PHBLBBLPHBBLLBBLL* sound,
and the urge to poop suddenly faded away from me, like a...
well, like a fucking fart in the wind.
(Whoosh!)
Now, to this day I don't know if it was the sweet, sweet melody
that is the Andy Griffith whistle,
or if that guy outside the door was a fucking witch doctor of some sort.
But I couldn't have been more relieved at that moment.
♪ Whistling the same tune ♪
"Here's my pee!"
(Whistles)
I feel fantastic!
So in the end I survived the severe case of the poops,
I got the job at a shitty car dealership,
and I haven't had a goddamn Beef 'n Cheddar since!
The end.
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