Sitting on the throne late one evening…
I felt a shudder as the brown was leaving.

This dump at dusk made me feel uneasy.
The package seemed excessively greasy.

And the impact of this heavy, soggy mash…
Was obvious from its enormous crash.

I feared my precious porcelain would shatter…
Under the weight of this hefty fecal matter.

I raised myself into the air-drop position.
In case the throne failed in its mission.

I peered between my thighs to inspect the damage…
Witness destruction by mammoth brown cabbage.

And alas the porcelain had been torn asunder.
Pieces scattered by the mighty greased thunder.

Defeated by fecal of unprecedented scale…
My loyal commode was destined to fail.

A desperate move to clear away this mush…
The only option left was to press the flush.