Wanting to hear Alan Davies talk about the Spanish Inquisition as soon as possible, you drop all inhibitions and let loose. Loud wet plops echo throughout the tiny room, as you feel an enormous sense of relief.\n\nYou sigh in relief, while more and more faecal waste falls out from your hairy arsehole. You feel like you're king of the world, sitting on your throne in a state of serenity.\n\nBut then, it happens. That last bit of poo.\n\nYou know the one: a very small remnant of white pudding you had for dinner that peeks out and no further. You clench and unclench your butt cheeks to ease that naughty piece of shit out, but it refuses to budge.\n\nYour fists and teeth tighten, you groan irritably, and tears of frustration begin to stream down your cheeks. Alas, your efforts are in vain.\n\nWhat do you do now?\n\n[[Wait for it to naturally come out]]\n\n[[Shake it out]]

But, as the familiar theme tune to QI serenades your ears once more, you feel like an atomic bomb has just gone off in your pants.\n\nNo, not the kind you get whenever Noel Fielding guest stars. The kind of bomb where you feel you have to evacuate the contents of your bowels like victims of a city being bombarded.\n\nYou scramble off of the couch and rush to the bathroom with all your might.\n\n[[In the bathroom...]]

You sit there on the seat, your bum slightly wet from splashback, for what feels like an eternity. But nothing happens, and you're missing QI in the meantime. The interesting facts espoused by Stephen Fry and the laughter of the audience can be heard through the wall, if a bit muffled.\n\nYou hate the poo for being so uncooperative, and if it wasn't for standards of hygiene, you'd strangle it the second it begrudgingly slides out of your hole.\n\nYou glance towards your feet, in the hope that there'll be a magazine or newspaper to dull the pain. You find only a single page from the local paper. It's the puzzle and spiritual section. All the puzzles have been solved (by looking the answers up on the internet, admittedly, but you did write them down), and you're not much for the horoscopes.\n\nYou wait a bit more, before the boredom takes you over and forces you to read the horoscopes. Rather instinctively, you look to your alleged sign, Capricorn. It says:\n\n"Be careful, for you may experience an unpleasant surprise on what has otherwise been a good day."\n\nNo shit, you think to yourself. Oh, and now you've made a literally shit pun. Two of them, in fact.\n\nNow what?\n\n[[Shake it out]]\n\n

Though you don't want to waste any more time inside this porcelain prison, you also don't want to cover the TV remote, the couch or the cat in any faecal traces left on your hands.\n\nWith a groan louder than a train in the London Underground, you turn round and head for the sink. You lightly turn on the tap, put a bit of soap on your hands and wash them under the running water.\n\nA klaxon goes off on the other side of the wall, and you hate yourself bitterly for keeping up with social standards as you dry your hands on the towel.\n\nBut it's done. You can finally put this mess behind you and return to normality once more.\n\n[[Head back to the living room]]

You return to find the panellists and audience marvelling at whatever Stephen Fry has just told them. It must have been really fascinating, since everyone seems really enlightened for the rest of the show. \n\nYou become envious and vengeful at being forced to miss out on this for the sake of washing your hands, and can't stand to watch the show for any longer.\n\n[[Plug out the TV]]

It's just after 6pm. Jonathan Creek's solved yet another convoluted mystery on the telly, your pet cat is curled up next to you, and you've just swallowed the last sausage of your dinner.\n\nYou recline into your couch with a sigh of contentment, rubbing your full belly like an expecting mother. You reach for the remote and flick across channels to try find something else to watch.\n\nOh, look. QI's airing an entire season of extended episodes on Dave.\n\nIt looks like it's going to be a good night indeed.\n\n[[Sit back and enjoy yourself]]

As Stephen Fry proceeds to tell the viewers and panellists the meaning of the universe, you feel a strange sensation in your hands. You look down at them and notice that they're moving up towards you.\n\nBefore you can comprehend the situation, the poo-stained hands have lunged for your neck and started strangling you for they cannot live with a man who doesn't wash his hands after doing a poo. No matter how you may trash and scream for help, their grip is too tight.\n\nYou lament your hygienic recklessness, as all the world fades into infinity, and all you have ever been, known or thought of with them. Good night.\n\nThe End.

Using The Loo (A Test)

Jim McGrath

The toilet sits meekly in a corner of the room, but to you, it's an oasis in the middle of the Sahara. It's just waiting for you to relieve all your bodily worries, like a disease-ridden prostitute with nothing to lose.\n\nMuch like in that situation, you eagerly undo your pants and leave them to hang round your ankles as you waddle over to the seat.\n\nAfter some time, you plop down on the wooden bowl and get prepared for what could be something nasty.\n\n...\n\n...\n\n...\n\nBetter make it quick. You don't want to miss QI, do you?\n\n[[Do a poo]]

You start to shake yourself from side to side, hoping that maybe it'll force the poo to start swinging out inch by inch until it finally falls off.\n\nYou spend about three or four minutes just waving about on the seat, and thought you can feel it begin to slide out, its speed is slower than a tortoise after eating five pounds of magic mushrooms.\n\nEnough time has passed for David Mitchell to go on another of his renowned rants when you hear a tiny splash. Overwhelmed with joy, you stand up and punch the air, whooping like a frat boy turning 21 in victory over that insidious piece of shit.\n\nYou're ready to head back in and finish whatever's left of that first episode, but you then face another deadly dilemma.\n\n[[Wash your hands]]\n\n[[Don't wash your hands]]

You reach for the plug, lying next to the TV, and suddenly receive a massive electrical shock that flings you through the window behind you.\n\nYou realize that you must not have dried your hands properly, and had the plug's spark make contact with the water still lingering on your skin. You would take something from that, if it weren't for the fact that your flat was about ten-odd stories up from the ground.\n\nYou don't really know what to do with yourself as you fall towards the ground, but you don't worry about it much longer. You feel a tremendous pain in your back for half a mille-second, and then no more. Good night.\n\nThe End.

You've wasted enough time in this almost literal hell-hole, waiting for some shit to drop out from your ass. You're perfectly justified in heading back to the living room with vaguely dirty hands and anyone who disagrees with you can fuck right off.\n\nYou head back in the living room with a stride in your step, just in time to hear Phill Jupitus make an incorrect guess that earns him a loud klaxon. You laugh along with the applauding audience as you plop down next to the cat, ready to enjoy the rest of the night.\n\n[[Sit back and enjoy yourself for real this time]]