Phantom Shitter Part 2

Well well well - perhaps I've discovered the secret identity of the infamous Phantom Shitter who plagues the Men's bathroom with his foul rancid poopy sauce? It all happened so quickly - just as of last week. I finished slamming a quart of water and had to pee really bad when I ran to the Men's room to take care of business. No sooner do I unbutton my pants and whip it out and start going full-stream than I hear the door open with a rush of wind only to be echoed with the shitter stall door closing and locking. AND THEN IT CAME. Fecal intonations and baritone calls that could only be rivaled by demon horns and trombones of the underworld!

AH HA! THE PHANTOM SHITTER!!!!

FINALLY!

I finished up draining the lizard when I quickly buttoned up my pants, washed my hands and decided to run outside and wait for the dude before the stench hit my nasal passages. After a month plus of suffering this asshole's raunchy left-over smells, I was going to solve this Scooby-Doo mystery......until.......some douchebag moron came into my office needing my help and I had to break away to assist. GODDAMMIT!!!!

Well, not one to be so easily discouraged, I decided to go from office to office to see who was present at their desks and who wasn't. Where Scooby-Doo stoner hi-jinks fail, the shrewd detective reasoning of Sherlock Holmes can always save the day. I looked all throughout the ground floor of where I work to see who was around and think it's some guy I've seen only once or twice. I don't get out much and mingle with people since I hate my co-workers and pretty much everyone within my building, set aside the occasional hottie MILF I catch a glimpse of. Eh. Whatever.

ALL I KNOW IS THAT I'M ONE STEP CLOSER THAN I WAS BEFORE!!

Goddamn you, Phantom Shitter, you intangible fuck. You abstract queef. You're like the football Charlie Brown never got to kick or the elusive piece of ass Beavis and Butthead were always chasing but never scored. Every clue points me in a new direction but when I think I'm about to uncover your true identity, I'm only stuck back at square one. Mark my words, Phantom Shitter, I will expose you for the smelly geist you are, even if I have to call the fucking Ghostbusters on your ass!

Perhaps I need to invest in higher knowledge in order to solve this mystery - paint the toilet seat with Tobasco sauce and wait for the fucker to run in and wait for him to start screaming bloody murder at the top of his lungs as the sauce works its way up his ass-crack and into his ring sphincter. I think the first degree burns on his butt cheeks will teach him to foul up the bathroom ever again considering he won't be able to sit down for a week ~ !!