A poem about a certain type of shit

You're in trouble. You sense tectonic rumblings in the belly of your bowels. Suddenly you are holding onto the side of the bowl splattering shit out like a hippo with it's tails flapping like a propeller.

But then there is a period of respite. The universe shows some mercy.

And without warning or fanfare a lone warrior slowly emerges from the crevice and marches to the beat of his own drum and into steps into the arena...



Cleaning up the carnage and debris that has been dashed along the perimeter. 

Every remnant of the traumatic past is annihilated as he continues forth. 

Every vestige of putridness meets its demise.

The harbinger of hope and renewal. The deliverer of purity

The bringer of sanitation. The restorer of sanity.

Friends and allies refer to him as "Maximus Rimmicus"

We simply know him as the torpedo of justice.