Duncan Hyde

It was the height of summer, a drought, and the place had been locked up for ages and had no way of letting the smell out.

With that, the final curtain call was upon me, and I spewed and shat myself at the same time, right there in the doorway, with the owner standing in front of me looking absolutely horrified.

Now, lads, I didn't just spew and shit.

This was fucking biblical.

It was the reenactment of the scene from The Exorcist.

Shit everywhere.

It seemed to go on forever.

It was violent.

I was in tears.

The owner looked like he was about to die.

I was trying to apologize, but it was fucking pointless.

The damage was done.

I'd shit and spewed on his lino floor, and there was fuck all either of us could tell about it.

The next 10 minutes, I sat beside my car on his lawn, wrapped in a towel, as he hosed the flat out apologizing to me.

Now, he thought it was from the rat.

I didn't have the heart to tell him about that fucking tie joint.

And Casey owned it as well.

He let me have a shower in his house, then we drove back to the motel where we moved some things around and put me in a room where I spent the next two days basically on the floor of the shower.

I didn't weigh myself, but fuck me, I lost some weight.

He had to have known it wasn't the rat, but he didn't say anything.