Wednesday, August 3, 2011
The four of us eyed each other down as the voice slowly counted down... 3, 2, 1 DRINK BOYS! Do not be mistaken, alcohol was not being consumed. No, in fact we were guzzling pepsi max as fast as our bodies could handle it. Pushing back fits of pain, I drank until tears were streaming down my face. Nothing could hinder me from the glory of victory. 10 minutes had elapsed, and half of my 2 liter bottle still remained. I wondered in that moment whether or not I would make it out alive, yet still I pushed forward in agony. I knew that the race would be tight between me and one other fellow. The other two were fallen soldiers, not able to cope with the anguish of concentrated carbonation violently rushing down their throats. As I neared the finish line, I took a peak at my competitor. Immediately I noticed weakness in his eyes, and I knew that victory was mine for the taking. All that I wanted to do as the last few drops landed on my tongue was cry out in euphoria, but my stomach writhed in torment. The only thing that crossed my brain was an immediate need for relief. Instantaneously I knew that if I didn't reach that precious porcelain toilet bowl, a mess of mass proportions was going to be on our hands. Like a gazelle, I sprung the distance to the bathroom in record speeds. A fatal mistake was apparent however. In this time of great need I had simply forgotten that the floor of my bathroom was constructed purely of extremely slick tile. To make matters worse, I was wearing nothing but socks. At the velocity that I was running simple common knowledge could deduct that I was going to take a tumble. As one would expect, as soon as my feet hit the tile I was flying through the air. I landed flat on my backside with an incredible thud. Fortunately with my fall, and in the excitement of the moment I had totally forgotten about throwing up, and didn't have the slightest need to anymore. It was miraculous.