Fred Cameron is usually more decisive, but last night's attack of slider-inspired diarrhea pushed him to the brink: Should I risk a ticket by flying through traffic like some NASCAR speed freak, or should I just let loose in my pants?
"I should know better," Cameron admitted later. "I always do this to myself. Most of the time the urge to purge happens at home, but this time I didn't play it safe."
The decision? Let's put it this way: he crapped in his Corolla.
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