Ah yes, the giant jug of "Rocket Fuel"*. Here's hoping that I never have to repeat that procedure. Spending the entire night on the throne simply because I was afraid of leaving that place of safety and soiling not only my self, but everything behind me. When it was finally "through", I'd never felt more empty in my life nor as violated. I think it took several days before the "Red Ring" from remaining there so long finally disappeared.
*- so named because you had to get a firm grip on something solidly anchored as it exited otherwise the amount of thrust generated could put one into orbit.
