Poop on a stick.

As a young man, certain scenarios require actions. When a friend puts himself in a compromising situation, it is your duty to take full advantage.

My dad and his brother, my uncle Paul, went fishing. There was a small fiberglass porta-potty at the end of the gravel parking lot by the boat launch. Uncle Paul had to take a crap.

The rocks in the parking lot were perfectly sized, about 2 to 3 inches. As uncle Paul locked the bathroom door, the barrage began.

Dad began pelting the hollow shell with rock after rock, while poor Paul attempted to take care of the business at hand. Imagine the distraction.

Upon exiting, Dad struck the "wasn't me" pose. Uncle Paul began looking in the brush behind the toilet. He found an old tree branch, maybe 5 feet long. He proceeded to dip the stick into his fresh poop in the bottom of the toilet.

A moment too late, Dad realized what was happening. The race was on. Paul chased Dad into the brush, where he tripped and fell, then rolled onto his back. Paul stood over Dad, hovering the poop a foot over his face.  The begging and pleading was met with a smiling victory laugh, not unlike that of Beavis and Butt-head.

Paul had won, and accepted the surrender gracefully. Gentlemen, never lose your youth, despite your age.

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