When my borther and I were doing grunt labor for the papermill (the year prior to Houghton), he was trimming tall weeds that grew along this giant open vat of urea mixed with water (which is, essentially, urine). Urea is somehow an integral part of the paper recycling process--further proof that we should just burn all the trees now and have done with it. Anyway, you can guess what happened. One false step and Ash's leg slipped in. He was soaked from toe to hip in paper mill piss. No one wanted to sit near him at lunch time. It i snot quite as bad as your misadventure, but I think I speak for coworkers everywhere when I say, "don't sit near me, Homes."
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followed by some mad panicked scrambling and thrashing and "OH NO!"
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