The Great Battle

A Story by Mike Ockbig

“A majestic piece of literature, a story for the ages” — Adolf Hitler

As he worked away, tapping rapidly on the keyboard, the class had fallen dead silent. Everyone was fixated on reading their textbook. Out of nowhere, the teacher began to feel something odd. He ignored it at first. But the sensation was was building in the pit of his gut. A quiet, gentle rumble followed soon after. He stopped typing and peered anxiously down to his belly. He could feel the pressure continuing to build. Eventually, he felt as if his stomach was going to explode. “Oh no” he thought desperatley to himself as he realised something troublesome was brewing up. He gripped the armrests of his chair tightly, like his life depended on it. His cheeks clenched firmly together and satup indestructably, like two boulders, against the mushy cushion of the chair. His face became red and drenched in sweat and he produced the most uncomfortable looking strain on his face. He was entering the critical stage of his struggle. His insides began to burn painfully but he put up a valiant resistance. He had never wanted anything more than to supress the imminent disaster which was about to unfold. The pressure continued to build and build. Any second now he was surely going to erupt. The teacher began to quake uncontrollably in his seat. His backside was saturated with sweat. This was the worst case of swamp a*s he’d ever suffered. Despite this, he remained determined to overcome his body’s call to nature. He was forced to exert every single sinew he was made up of in order to accomplish this.

Eventually, however, he snapped.

The gentle hush of the class room was suddenly replaced by an ungodly cacophony. It was like something out of a warzone. His digestive perfume filled every nostril in the vicinty, soon after. The stench alone, was enough to disprove God’s existence. The teacher had lost his battle with nature. The harrowing laughter of the classroom, to this day, continues to keep him up at night.