Squeezing your butt cheeks together as tightly as you can, you waddle out of the bathroom and down the hallway to the stairs. You’ve made it past conference rooms A and B, and you’re almost through the mailroom, when a cough from behind stops you.

“Perfect. You’re just the, uh-uh-uh, person I was looking for.”

Fuck, it’s your boss. And judging from the leisurely cadence of his nervous tic of a laugh, he’s in the mood to talk.

Your intestines gurgle and twist. You can feel the shit trying to push its way out. Squeezing even harder, you turn, hoping your grimace of pain can pass for a smile.

“What’s up?”

“I have an interesting proposition I’d like to discuss.”

“Mmmm.” You try to look interested. You can feel cold sweat breaking out on your forehead and upper lip.

“Of course it’s totally different from what you’re used to. But I think you’d, uh-uh-uh, really enjoy it.”

Jesus, get to the point. You can feel your butt cheeks starting to sweat. Dear god, please don’t let that mean they lose suction.

“Before I go into the, uh-uh-uh, details, though, let me ask: do you have a passport?”

You nod. What is he offering? It actually sounds like something potentially…interesting. You’d have been intrigued by ‘just not terrible.’

But you can feel your intestines spasming, clenching and unclenching rapidly. This must be what labor feels like.

You can’t hold it much longer.

If you want to hear your boss out about this “proposition,” click here.

If you have to excuse yourself now–Jesus, it might already be too late–click here.


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