Two diarrhea-free days I endured, consuming fruit in preparation. Eagerly awaiting my shit-eater’s arrival, I could hardly contain my excitement. The moment he stepped in, he tossed off his clothes, opening wide for a hot, smelly pile of diarrhea. Shock and surprise etched on his face, he struggled to swallow, but alas, it was too late. A flood of diarrhea filled his mouth, becoming his hearty breakfast. Today, he dines on my fresh shit, my very own diarrhea.