The Drug Test

I had just graduated college, so I began looking for a job in my career field. I have always smoked herb, so I was nervous about the drug test. Luckily, the local head shop had a "guaranteed" formula that could mask any chemicals that might still be in my system. The morning of the job fair, I drank two bottles of very foul tasting thick liquid. My stomach began to rumble, then bloat, as I was driving. It got so bad I had to loosen my belt and undo my pants. I knew I couldn't ignore the inevitable anymore. I stopped at the next fast food place. I had to walk in with my pants undone; fortunately my shirt was long enough to keep me covered. I took a cursory glance at the menu as I walked in and then made straight for the bathroom. I'm a germ freak, but I knew I didn't have time to put down the toilet paper barrier. So I dropped my pants, leaned over, and unleased an unholy carpet bomb of explosive diarrhea that blanketed the toilet, the handle, and portions of the wall and floor. To this day, I still feel guilty about the poor kid who had to clean up that putrid mess. Needless to say, the "guaranteed" cleaner only cleaned my colon and I failed the drug test.