So there I was, string tied to my dick as was the local custom, when I felt a great grumbling rumbling in my stumbling. I mean stomach. Why’d I say stumbling? Weird.
Anyhow, my stomach felt like two cats fighting in a burlap sack. It was rough - and I didn’t feel like dealing with whatever was going to erupt. Sure, I’d have to - by accident of anatomy my guts were linked to my mouthhole and my asshole - but it wasn’t going to be the highlight of my day. As the metaphorical cats continued to wrestle, I knew it was time to take decisive action. And decisive action I certainly took. Decisive action I will certainly describe.
I rushed to the door and grabbed my rice paddy hat on the way out. It’d be a real social faux pas to be seen in the streets without a hat and I didn’t want to challenge the local norms. I half-ran, half-waddled my way through the streets as I fought the urge to birth the demon inside me. A real bad butt birth was coming though and there was little I could do to stop it.
“Hey Jack!” a young man called out to me as I rushed by.
“Hey Jack!” I responded. We shook hands, embraced, and, as the higher status male, I pinched his nose.
“What are you up to Bernard?” he asked.
“I’m off to take a shit.”
“Ah, well, let me get out of your way!”
We saluted appropriately and I was once again on my way. I made it another two blocks before I was hailed again.
“Hey Jack!” a trio of children called out to me.
“Hey Jack!” I responded. As they came closer I held out my hand to stop them. I pointed toward the theater and explained “gotta take a shit.”
The kids nodded and started rushing along my path with me. Over the next several blocks and a score of “Hey Jack!” calls the kids ran interference. I felt my heart swell a little with every answered “Hey Jack!” I felt my bowels swell with every step.
We finally made it to my destination - the local theater. A small crowd had gathered and made their way to their seats. I waddled my way on stage.
I was really struggling to keep the explosion in as I hopped on the lift and was raised to the rafters. There were a few close calls and small farts along the way, but I made it with cargo intact.
At the lift’s highest point I began the call-and-response. It was a fantastic feeling and, after the short ceremony, I lifted my robe and blasted butt brownies like a hippopotamus marking its territory. Suitably emptied, I signaled to the lift operator and began my descent. The crowd dispersed and, for the first time in weeks I thanked the gods for these little local traditions.