They were just meeting in the pub - they were on their way to see a friend’s new house. And he really likes his motorbike, though presumably he prefers it without shit smeared all over the saddle.
Okay, since we’re all being so honest here…
A couple of weeks ago I had the weirdest thing happen to me here at work. I’d gone in for a number two and, as I’m usually wont to do, had taken great precautions at the end to make sure I was quite clean and tidy afterwards. I then stood, rebuckled my trousers and before leaving the stall did that little starfish squeeze thing that you do to vacuum seal your anus. It was at that point that I though hmmm… something doesn’t feel quite right here. It was hard to pinpoint but it was like I could feel a little point of resistance and it wasn’t on the inside. So I started to drop my trousers and take another swip at things when all of a sudden I feel something hit my calf and then, out of the corner of my eye, I see this perfectly round little pea-sized particle go roll across the floor. And it was brown. I thought holy shit, what the hell was that… a poo pea? Also, I started imagining it just a minute before when it was holding only my pinkness saying in a very soft voice “Open the pod bay door, Hal. Hal, open the pod bay door.” I still can’t figure out quite how that happened. First time in x number of years and hasn’t happened since but that day I did indeed microcrap my pants.
Ohhhhh, that kind of bike. Gotcha.
If one has the runs in the morning before work, bring undies in a resealable zip lock bag. Also have hand those handiwipes, premoistened. 
My girlfriend is a elementary school librarian, and a couple of weeks ago, a seven or eight-year-old in her class said he had to go to the bathroom really bad. She said he smelled like poo, and asked if he needed any help. He said no, and she excused him to go to the bathroom. He had been gone for a little while, and she decided to have a male teacher go check on him, but before she could, the kid came back. Completely smeared in shit. Clothes, skin, everything. She said it was a freaking nightmare, but the kid barely noticed. When she pulled him aside and asked what happened, he said “Nothing, I just went to the bathroom.”
Another poop-in-the-pants story happened to a friend of my friend’s sister. In high school, they were at a party, and this guy-- who was wearing white shorts-- wanted to show everyone how he could light a fart (apparently he thought the ladies might be impressed). So he gets on his back, spreads his legs high over his head, and gets the lighter an inch from his ass. He laid there for a few seconds with that bite-your-lip-trying-to-fart look on his face, and everyone circled around him giggling with anticipation. Finally, there was no sound or flame, but in a mighty blast, his white shorts turned brown from the anus outward. The ladies were not impressed.
I thought it was a given, if you worked in retail for at least a year, odds are at some point an elderly person would wet or shit themselves in your store. 
Shyly raises hand*
I had a fart surprise me by being extra, extra wet during a smoke break at work.
I simply went into the restroom, cleaned myself up, threw my underwear away, and spent the rest of the day ‘commando’. No one was the wiser.
I have. It was my first week at college, and I spent the day visiting a large city nearby, where I had a meatball sandwich at Subway for lunch. On the train ride back, I felt some commotion in my stomach, which slowly moved lower and lower until there was nowhere for it to go and it attempted to escape from my body.
I got off a few stops early and, awkwardly walking with my legs crossed and stopping every few yards to concentrate on keeping it in, looked for the nearest bathroom.
I finally came across a hotel I had stayed in before and turned into a hallway I thought contained the toilets. Instead, there was only a drinking fountain, and distracted by my anger and surprise I lost ground in the battle.
Luckily I reached the bathroom, in the next hallway, before too much damage was done. There was only a coaster-sized spot on my shorts, which I was able to cover by pulling down my shirt and holding a brochure with my hands behind my back.
On the short walk back to my dorm I ran into my new roomate. I said “hi” and scurried away. Once back I took a shower and threw away my shorts.
I was referring to people who crap themselves farting at people. If you have a medical problem, that can’t be helped. As they say, shit happens.
This is the advantage I have being almost prissy about farts. If I feel a major fart coming on, if at all possible I’ll hie myself to the men’s room and head for a stall. I know we all fart, but I don’t want to be known as “a farter”. You know, where somebody comes to see me in my office and has to think, occasionally for the rest of the day, “I had to go see Spectre about something and man there was a stench in there!”
Yep. On a detox, I was drinking far too much water. it got to the point one day where i drank two litres of water an hour, all day. I felt a little fart come along. I let rip.
I literally filled my boots. Good times.
When AdoptaSon was 2-3 years old, he loved to play outside with only the bare minimum of acceptable clothing on. At least once a week we’d find him in “the stance”, which Mr. Adoptamom called THE KIMSHEE SQUAT.
The poor child would be almost paralyzed because he’d played/waited so long to go the the bathroom that he couldn’t stand up straight, nor could he walk to the bathroom to …ahem… let the train leave the station. We’d have to physically pick him up, bring him to the bathroom, strip him, and set him down on the toilet.