This'll be a real test of [your housekeeper's] loyalty.
And let me take this opportunity to welcome you to the Continent of Incontinence! Plant your flag proudly!
I'll confess that I almost shit the bed a couple years back. What happened is that I was sick and diarrhetic, and I was alternating between farts and wet shotgun-blasts of the brown stuff. I was either in bed, farting, or on the toilet, like an inverted Old Faithful, for most of that day. Farting was like playing Russian roulette, and on one occasion, I lost: I was lying on my side, trying to squeeze out a fart, but little did I know that there was a shit-plug just on the inside of my anus, and when I tried to push out the fart, the plug came out first, followed by a small burst of diarrhea. I quickly squeezed my asshole shut so as not to release anything more, but the damage had been done. Because I was on my side, I managed to shit my underwear but not the bed. To get off the bed without soiling the mattress, I rolled onto my front and crawled off, Spider-Man-style, before schlepping straight to the toilet. Luckily, the bathroom was all hard, cleanable surfaces, so I was able to strip off the soiled undies and fire the rest of the diarrhea into the bog. I then hand-washed my tainted garments in warm water and bleach (germs cause the odor; bleach kills germs), then running the underpants through a standard cycle, with detergent, in my washing machine.
So you're not exactly alone, and as for me, I've been paranoid ever since. You and I may have to start doing butt-Kegels exercises. Just to be sure.
Some of us have to nuke the site from orbit; for the rest of us, there's butt-Kegels.
I always knew I'd be famous someday. And I don't give two shits about it now...
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