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One day, you're sitting on the toilet. The seat has long since warmed from its initial chill. You've been here for ten minutes now, and you've been working much harder than you normally have to. You find yourself pressing, straining, clenching down, but to no avail. You feel as though there's a rock sitting in your guts, and it becomes more and more uncomfortable.
Finally, you manage to make a little headway. The stone in your stomach starts sliding out. It begins moving faster and faster. It feels like you're dropping a deuce bigger than your arm.
Suddenly, all the resistance vanishes, and the blockage that had been keeping you on the toilet erupts from your overstressed rectum.
You slump down in relief, finally done.
But wait, something is wrong.
Somehow, it feels like you've got water in your guts. You look down, and find your guts have everted themselves, and you now have a pink tube sock attached to your anus dangling in the fouled toilet water.
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Stroke it. Fondle it. Make it feel good.
Well, this is utterly horrible and unexpected. So naturally, you do the only thing you can do. Panic:
"AAAAAAAAAAUGH!" you scream, the ragged release of breath tearing at your throat.
Your insides are supposed to be INSIDE, NOT OUTSIDE! Fuck, fuck, fuck, shit.
You flail wildly, reaching for something, anything to help you. One hand smashes into something hard and cold. You hear a loud *crack*, and heat slashed across the back of your hand.
You look at the pieces of shattered mirror embedded in the back of your hand, and start gasping for breath. You can't seem to get enough air. It's so cold, and there's static creeping in at the edge of your vision.
You try to back away from the mess that is your hand, still breathing rapidly. You slip off the toilet and fall to the tile floor.
>OH GOD, I'M NOT GOOD WITH BLOOD. WHAT DO I DO?
PUT YOUR ANUS BACK INSIDE DAMNIT
While stroking your dong
Okay, okay, you can fix this. You're bleeding, and your insides are your outsides, but you can fix this.
One thing at a time, it'll be okay. The first thing you have to deal with is the length of intestine stretching out from your clenched ass. That can't be a good thing, and besides, your hand isn't bleeding that much.
You reach out and gather up a handful of intestine, cringing at the odd sensations of what your brain tells you is someone sliding their blood slick hands over a spot a good six inches inside you.
Shuddering, you try to push whatever handfuls of flesh you can gather back inside yourself. The stress and shock just make you tighten down though. The sudden pain of your sphincter clenching on your intestines makes you cringe in pain.
Breathing harshly, you manage to get half of... yourself back inside yourself.
Oh wow. That's a lot of blood. A lot of blood.
Your hand is worse than you thought.
>Keep stuffing away?
>Deal with hand while dangling your innards?
Call 9-11, for fucks sake. We don't want to die from shitting intestines out. Think of the obituary, man!
Was right. This is better than MSQ.
Oh god. You need help. You need help now. You start reaching for your phone, in the pocket of your shit stained blood covered pants. Dammit, the phone is in the side with the mangled hand.
Okay, you can do this. Slowly reach across yourself with your other hand, wiggle it into the pocket.
"AUGHCHSHITFUCKCUNT," you scream, having accidentally sat on yourself while extricating the phone. But no matter, you have it. It'll be okay, the nice men can help you. They'll make it all better. It'll be okay.
With disturbingly slick fingers you manage to hit a 9, then a 1... finally a 1 and send. Okay, it's ringing.
Cringing, you raise the tainted phone up to your ear, and listen.
"911 What is your emergency?"
ANAL PROLAPSE, WAT DO?
I SHAT MY ASS OUT MY ASS
FUCK HELP ME