Tasty.
Sandy walks into the kitchen.
"Hey, Brad."
"Hi, Sandy."
"Hey, I just got back from surgery. Aren't you going to ask how it went?"
"Uh, OK. How'd it go?"
"No problems. They removed my gall bladder, and stitched me up. In fact, you can see it if you want to."
"The stitches? No thanks, Sandy. I just ate."
"No, I meant the actual removed gall bladder. I had just put it down here on the counter when somebody came to the door."
"You put it on the counter?"
"Yeah, I don't see it now. Hmm,"
"Hmmm," you say, feeling sick.
Sandy gets down on her hands and knees searching the kicthen floor.
"I'd help you look, Sandy. But, uh, I gotta go shave my legs. Bye."
You bolt up to the bathroom, push open the door, and hork your brains out in the toilet bowl.
It's not until after you have composed yourself that you realize that Pam was on the toilet while you uked between her legs.
Fortunately for you, Pam is asleep.
You wipe your mouth off on the front of your shirt and quietly step out of the bathroom so as not to wake up Pam.