2 - The Mystery of the Missing Poop

I went to a party about a month ago in Cochrane with my friend Tanner. At the party were a few people we met on vacation in the Dominican Republic, including some locals I hadn't met before. Two of them stuck out to me. I can't remember their names, but I assumed they were gay with each other. The whole night, they kept rhyming everything they were talking about ("Where's the washroom; cause I need to find a broom") in a melodical fashion. If you were unlucky to have a conversation with them, they would get real super close to you, which made it uncomfortable. The fact that they may have been gay didn't matter to me, but when someone gets in my face and tries to make a normal conversation seem unecassarily in-depth, I get a little worried. Anyway, these guys called me over for some shots. As usual, they were rhyming their sentences like annoying little fucks.

Gay guy #1: "It's time we do some cheers!"
Gay guy #2: "Luckily we aren't queers!"
Gay guy #1: ".... Not yet."

I got the fuck out of there pretty quick.

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In the morning, I woke up in the house with a splitting headache next to a giant St. Bernard dog, who threw up a couple of times on the floor. I don't know why, but I always seem to poop more often when I'm hungover. So once everyone was awake and recovering, I had to take a dump. Everything was going smoothly (lol), y'know. Nothing out of the ordinary. But once I finished, I had the strange curiosity to see what my shit looked like. Not that I have some kind of sick fascination, I'm just making sure my poop looked healthy, that's all. No, really. So I looked in the toilet, and I saw nothing but my poo ease it's way into the hole of the toilet, lost forever. My poo was gone. I waited for it to come back up and be like "AHAHA, JUST KIDDING!" My poop was lost in the void that was the toilet. I almost felt like leaving then and there. Besides the fact that I had to wipe and stuff, nobody would have known I took a shit in there. I imagined the next person going in the washroom and have my poo come back out, scaring them. But I had to wipe, which meant I had to flush, which also meant that my sneaky poo wouldn't have a chance of coming back out to attack the next person using the toilet.

My sneaky poo

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A few hours later Tanner and I left the house in search for a place to eat in Cochrane. We found our way to a McDonald's and ordered a butt load of food. I got three cheeseburgers with no pickles, ten chicken nuggets, and a root beer. Once we sat down to eat, I checked every burger to make sure there were no pickles. Everything was normal... so far. Since I was still hungover, I couldn't focus on anything for a long time, but I eventually made my way to the third cheeseburger. About half way through the burger, I snapped out of my hungover dazed state, and noticed something terribly wrong.

"Hey Tanner, do you know where my patty went?"
"What?"
"My patty's gone. What the fu-"

Yeah. My patty was fucking gone. I saw it there when I checked for the pickles, but it fucking vanished half way through eating it. I must've eaten just the patty without knowing it. I was freaking out.

"Am I sitting on it? What the fuck is going on?!"
"Did you eat it?"
"I DON'T REMEMBER!"

So all I had was a half-eaten fucking bun with ketchup in it. I couldn't stop thinking about the missing patty for the next few hours. Even now, I cry at night trying to remember what I did with it. I bet my sneaky like shit is prancing aroung with my patty, rejoicing in my absence. Fuckers.

>:[