Ill Placed Rucksack

I have been loose of bowel over the weekend, so much so that I dare not venture out. It started on Friday evening on a packed commuter train on my way home from work. As to be expected I was seated by a beautifully attired woman when I felt a rumbling in my guts. I clenched myself hoping the bubbling sensation would subside, at least 'til the next stop when I would be able to alight. But no it continued, unlike our crowded train which was inching forth at the pace of a wounded snail. I weighed up my options; squeeze past lady lovely and through the standing passengers to the loo, thereby losing my seat or sit and wait 'til the next station and make a dash for the platform toilets. I covertly checked for directions to the train toilet. The train ground to a halt. I waited. I wanted to be discreet but my intestines were having none of it, emitting a low, thunderous sound but thankfully no accompanying smell. The driver announced we were stuck in a tunnel and would not be moving for the next five minutes, at least. A collective sigh from the passengers as they slumped down on their bags and briefcases. I was starting to sweat, I couldn't hold on much longer. That was it I had to go. With directions to the nearest toilet cubicle insight I gathered my belongings and edged my way past Miss Fancy Pants. All was going well as I made it to the aisle, the toilet door was in sight and it was unlocked. Result! I carried on my quest, politely squashing my way past men, women and a dog until I reached the cubicle door and tripped over an ill placed rucksack and expelled the most noxious of fumes. A young man came to my aid but was repelled by the odour - a smell so strong it could be used as a natural pest repellent. I felt so embarrassed I hid in the toilet for twenty minutes until my intestinal fireworks had finished and we reached my station. As I dashed through the door the crowd parted and it was then I realised that bad guts can have hidden benefits and broke wind all the way home.