On an island far, far away
I’m sure that many people reading this are thinking, no way, it’ll never happen to me... I was one of you once. Have faith, good things come to all men (and ladies of course). One time is all you need.

My time happened to be on the Isles of Scilly, the island of Tresco to be precise. We’d been told to wait for our boat that would ferry us to St Mary’s on a rocky promontory called Carn Near. The small quay was full of blue-rinses and other coffin-dodgers who had come to marvel at the beauty of Valhalla (the supposed resting place of various Vikings on Tresco).

The boat picking us up was late and I had consumed a magnificent lunch of “freshly-caught” shellfish at a bargain price from the hospitable islanders.

“Freshly-caught??”. Hold on, weren’t these rascals here yesterday?? Hmmm, I thought as the first errant toot slipped between my cheeks not half an hour after my gluttonous meal.

I shuffled to the side a little in an attempt to release pressure… “No Deal” said my inner Edmonds… Jesus H Christ on a bike; this piscine poison was making itself known.

Oh Fuck, that’s not good… there was no release of pressure, all I could feel was an urgent straining of explosive poo with absolutely nowhere to go.

Most people will not know Carn Near, but essentially it is a concrete finger pointing into the ocean and I was right on the end of the fucker, cut off from dry land by the crowds of OAPs swarming to try and spot the delayed boat.

Two choices then:

1) Try and gallantly fight my way back through the hordes of angry pensioners, already riled at the tardiness of their motor-launch.

2) Shit down my legs and try to enjoy the momentary warmth of my own faeces and suffer the miserable feeling of dirtiness that would inevitably follow.

I was overcome by a cold sweat. The sweat of those who have been touched by bad fish and require urgent attention.. 1) above was not an option, and I was going to try and avoid 2) at all costs – it was a 40 minute ride back to the main island, a long time to be sitting I your own filth.

Still to this day I do not know what overcame me. With the bellow of a man possessed with an urgent need to shed his load, I wrenched down my jeans and undergarments, pale arse and genitatlia exposed to the horrified onlookers. Fortunately, there was one young lad near the front of the queue who recognised my predicament and held my hands as I hung my arse over the side of the quay and let fly.

I recall a couple of pensioners fainting as the fish came to the surface to nibble on my shit.

Heh, that’ll teach them.


Pop.


Hi by the way, I'm Steve x
(H K Phooey, Sat 29 Mar 2008, 5:34, 5 replies)

Click
I liked this almost entirely for the phrase `errant toot'. Marvellous!
(Tomble Underground, overground, Tombling free., Sat 29 Mar 2008, 6:07, closed)

brilliance
“No Deal” said my inner Edmonds

Love it.
(midnight rapist tocajamón, Sat 29 Mar 2008, 23:51, closed)

Another
decent writer. Tale well told.

Welcome and enjoy your stay. Always room for man who can tell a good story.

Cheers
( Legless Mister Stabby - shanks for the memory, Sun 30 Mar 2008, 2:52, closed)

Hey
thanks for the welcome and the comments folks.

Reading some of your stuff over the last few months has been the highlight of my week on several occasions so I thought it rude to partake but not add anything of my own to the mix.

Cheers.
(H K Phooey, Sun 30 Mar 2008, 16:28, closed)

^^^what midnight said
Anything which manages to liken Noel Edmonds with the raging shits earns a click from me.
(Bicycle Repairman "you're also a bit of a wanker", Mon 31 Mar 2008, 12:14, closed)