Ladies and gentlemen, we almost lost today.
Before I share my suspenseful tale, I have a request for all you readers out there: we need excuses! Justifications for our experiment, should we be caught by either our adversaries or the police. Leave us comments! As an incentive, if we use your advice to get out of trouble, we'll award you the official Tufts Stinkymeat Hefty Serve 'n Store Plate(tm) upon the completion of our project! (If we use multiple people's advice, we'll divide the plate evenly among them.) But I digress...
* * *
My accomplice, indifferent to the traumatic experience I had yesterday, informed me he had a mid-term at 8 in the morning. He therefore requested that I take the plunge for second night in a row.
All was quiet as I entered the forsaken washroom. The stink hit me quite forcefully as I slid away the corner tile, confirming to that the meat was still safe and sound. The flashlight, now loaded with fresh triple-A's, shined brightly as I placed it over the ceiling.
As I pulled the camera out of my pocket and prepared to take aim, I heard a door slam.
I ducked so that the closed stall door would conceal me. Seconds later, not one, but two people filed into the bathroom! The first made his way to the other shower stall. The second hesitated momentarily, then gave a firm push on my door. It remained shut. Thinking quickly, I made a throat-clearing sound and turned on the shower. I prayed this would convince him to come back later, but he instead headed towards the sink, yelling loudly to his friend that it smelled like shit in here. I was quite tempted to correct him.
It came to my attention that the the ceiling tile was still out of place--and furthermore that the opening was glowing brightly from the flashlight. The hole was small and difficult to see at first glance, but I knew that it would surely be spotted if I left it that way. When my foe walked over to the toilet, I saw my opportunity. I crept back onto the bench, grabbed the light and slid the tile back as quietly as possible.
The guy didn't even bother to flush the toilet (some people do such disgusting things). I scarcely had time to jump back to the floor before he returned to his perch between the two stalls, waiting.
Unfortunately all my hopes of outlasting the other showerer were dashed when a third individual entered the bathroom! I had to get out of there without revealing my identity, so I did the only thing I could think of: I took off my shirt and soaked my head in the shower. I then proceeded to exit the stall, looking downward with the shirt draped over my head. I walked right past them, using it like a towel to dry my hair. A successful getaway.
* * *
For the long-term safety of our experiment, I concluded it was best not to return that morning. I'm really sorry guys! I promise, tomorrow we'll do something special to make up for it... if the plate's still there...
I suppose today's moral is an important one: The longer this project lasts, the more dangerous it will be if we get caught. I managed to escape today without speaking a word to them, but we need to be prepared with witty explanations for a variety of questions. Questions like:
"What are you doing here this time of morning?"
"Why is the ceiling opened?"
"Is that a camera?"
"Did you just take a shower with your shoes on?"
"Did something die in here?"
Your friendly neighborhood stinkographers
Continue to Day 8