The coffee goes in, toffee comes out.
Time to create brown sauerkraut.
The stink is rich, the stink is rank.
I think I’d rather walk the plank.
But the coffee is good, coffee tastes great.
Yet getting the runs is something I hate.
So I fill the bowl, fill it to the brim.
Flush is broken, situation is grim.
With the garden hose I’ll improvise.
But I should have an adult to supervise.
I turn on the tap, I turn it full blast.
It was a mistake, the room floods fast.
The fecal sprays upward like a fountain.
The spray is high, high like a mountain.
I sneakily take leave, I back out super slowly.
Blame someone else for this river of ravioli.