Bryce Laughs in the Bathroom

"Argus! I didn't know you were here," Bryce says. He laughs the alarming goblin-like cackles I heard outside in the hallway. "It seems there has been a bit of an incident."

"What are you talking about?" I say. Bryce popped out of a stall when I came into the bathroom.

"I went to a barbeque this weekend," he says. "All you can eat. I must have put away a half-dozen big burgers on Saturday. Along with more than a couple beers. Well, I just laid the mother of all iceburg shits in the toilet. You're not going to believe it, but the toilet won't flush."

"That's great, Bryce. Do you want a medal?"

Bryce laughs, throwing his head back like a lunatic. I begin to wonder: Can people hear us outside? I hope not. I start to edge for the door.

"Wait!" Bryce says. "Do me a favour. This is the biggest dump I've ever seen. Can you get your camera and take a picture of it?"

"Jesus Christ, Bryce! What the hell for?"

"Please? This is historic - I really need this. Just one picture?"

Inspiration flashes through my mind. "Okay - but I want you in the shot, too. For perspective. Like when you take a picture of a mountain or something."

Bryce howls more laughter. "That's a great idea! Why didn't I think of that?"

"Probably because you're a moron," I mumble.

I'm back in a few moments with the camera. "Okay, get in close, now. You're not in the frame."

"God, it stinks! Am I in it yet?"

"No, get closer. Attaboy. Man, that log is as big as your head, Bryce! How did you manage this?" I say.

"Stop it, you're killing me! Just take the picture!"

"I can't wait to send this out on a group e-mail," I mutter.

"What was that?"

"Nothing, dude."

*snap!*