What do you do when someone wants to pay you to eat poo?
Oh, what to do, what to do, what to doo-doo…
“Ring! Ring!“
Great. Just great. The one night in my entire college career that I decide to go to bed before 10, and some jack-hole has to go and be blowing up the phone in my dorm room.
“Uh, hello?”
“Dude, dude, ’tis I, the Beautiful Love Muscle!1No, his initials aren’t actually BLM. Howdy!”
“Howdy yourself, BLM. Why the hell you calling me when I’m trying to get a healthy night’s worth of rest?”
“Yeah, uh, so there’s a bunch of guys here hanging out at my apartment, and…”
“…and what, you huge oaf?”
I didn’t give a crap if my impatience came through loud and clear over my landline or not.
“Well, we have a dare that we all thought for which you would be the perfect candidate.”
“Um, okay. What is it?”
I gotta admit that my ego was slightly flattered that little ol’ me was who they thought could handle this mystery challenge like no one else.
“We’ll tell you when you get here.”
“Nah, ----- that, amigo. I’m hanging up now…”
“No, wait! There’s could be a sizable amount of cash in it for you.”
The man sure did know the way to this poor college student’s heart.
“You don’t say? How much? I ain’t getting out of bed for any less than fif–“
“Two hundred fifty in cold hard cash. So are you in?”
Silence…
“Dude are you still there?”
*Ding-dong!*
BLM opens door…
“Nah man, I’m here…”
“So, it’s pretty simple: you eat some poo, and we pay you $250. Any questions?”
I couldn’t believe that BLM actually was able to keep a straight face while he suggested that I eat a steaming pile of crap, all for the mere purpose of the juvenile amusement of the gaggle of dumbasses–many of which I called ‘friends’–that had congregated at his place.
“The ----- is wrong with you man? And me??? When someone suggested, ‘Hey, let’s see if we can dare somebody to consume human fecal matter!’ All y’all biscuits unanimously came up with my name? Noooo, that’s no disturbing at all…”
“Aw, c’mon man! We’re offering you a quarter of a cool grand. And don’t be too offended we thought of you–after all you yourself brag about how you’re a ‘human garbage disposal’, amiright?”
“Yeah, ‘human garbage disposal’–not ‘walking septic tank’. There’s a bit of a difference there, Broseph.”
Amidst all this banter, a plot to part these fools of their money started to incubate and then hatch in mind. At that point, I thought that I had bought myself enough time. I just need to build a little more suspense…
A “Please, oh please!” spontaneously came forth from some nugget-head in the crowd.
“Yeah, you already got out of bed and traipsed over here–you might as well make it worth your trip.”
“Do it! Do it! Do it!”
All of sudden there was a chorus of jackasses all chanting their encouragement.
“Okay, okay! I’ll think about it–and on one condition: only if it’s the dung of my beloved roomie, B-Nye, Not The Science Guy–wait. What are you doing here? You’re in on this scheme, too???”
B-Nye just gave me his trademark sheepish chipmunk grin.
“Ok, whatever. Let’s just go somewhere private and discuss it. If all y’all need us we’ll be at Jen & Em’s2Female friends of ours who just happened to live in the apartment across the hall from BLM. place across the breezeway. See you suckers in a few minutes…”
“Brownies! Brownies! You ladies got any brownies?!?”
I didn’t have time to mince any words on useless pleasantries.
“Oh, hey, it’s you two. What’s up?” Despite my brusqueness, Jen was as pleasant as ever.
“No time to talk. I need whatever brownies you might have in this apartment, stat! And whole corn–you got any whole corn?”
I could see out of the corner of my eye that B-Nye was starting to put the pieces together.
“Ahhh, I see now…so you weren’t really planning on eating one of my fresh turds? Well, that’s a relief–pun intended!–cuz I don’t think I quite have a proverbial ‘bullet in the chamber’, so to speak.”
Jen, on the other hand, had no ----- clue what we were going on about.
“Ummm…are you guys talking about eating poop? ‘Cuz one time I heard about some frat guy that ate poop, and then after that all the sororities put him on a do-not-date list. They even had Wanted-style posters printed with his picture on it stating ‘Do Not Kiss This Man!’ It was cray-cray, I say…”
“So…he got brown-listed, eh?”
“Yeah, I suppose you could say that.”
“Well, fear not, my dear Jen, I don’t plan eating poop for realz.“
“Then why are you here?”
“Those fools across the hall have pooled their money together and will pay me $250 to eat crap. Fifty of that is yours if you can help me make a fake turd out of brownies and corn, and fifty of that will be B-Nye’s to pretend it was a fresh loaf he just pinched off. What say you?”
“Shouldn’t we split it evenly 3 ways?” B-Nye piped up.
“Oh ----- off. I’m the one risking my reputation here for a measly $150. No need to get greedy.”
“Okay, well you’re welcome to any brownies you can find, but I’m pretty sure we don’t have any.”
After a solid 10 minutes of turning their apartment upside down to no avail–and twice rebuffing BLM and the dumbass mob’s knocking on the door with ‘Go away, or you’re going to scare off B-Nye’s shy chocolate prairie dog!’–we sadly came up completely empty-handed.
In the end I totes be like:
“Sorry to disappoint fellas, but I’m out. B-Nye couldn’t produce the goods.”
I wasn’t ready to reveal to this crew that my plan to take their money and run had only been foiled by Jen & Em’s tragic lack of baked goods in their household.
“But, you thought about it. Oh, man, I can’t wait to tell every girl we know that you seriously considered eating crap!” Cody, one of the many jackasses present, was all too quick to point this unflattering technicality.
Okay. So, I guess I was ready to reveal my plan to fleece them after all.
“You big dummy, I didn’t consider eating poo for a single second! I was going to eat a fake one made out of brownies and make off with your money. I was going to literally walk away with a pocket full of cash and a shit-eating grin.”
“But you still thought about it!”
“No, you see it was actually quite a diabolical genius plan–“
“Hey guys! He almost ate sh*t! He almost ate sh*t! Tell everyone you know!”
“No–wait–oh, fudge,3While that could be considered a pun, what I’m really trying to say is ‘FUCK’. nevermind. You’re all a bunch of ----- idiots…”
The point of the story is that the world is full of turds who don’t give a crap about nuance. Appearances matter. Simple interpretations and salacious stories–those are what are usually remembered.
If something you’re thinking about doing–like, say, pretending to eat sh*t to make a few bucks–that, on the surface, may reflect poorly on your judgment and/or character, well, you better think twice before you even think once about doing it.
Later on you can lay out in great detail all you want about how brilliant you really were, but take it from me: no one will still be listening by then. No one cares about the asterisk. No one gives two toots about parenthetical statements. No one has time for your lengthy over-explanations.
It will already be too late, your good name will be forever smeared4Fecal-based pun intended…
Content created on: 21 May 2022 (Saturday)
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