When you gotta poop, you gotta poop.

    And you gotta poop.

    You walk out of Pam's room, and go down the hall to the bathroom.

    Sarah is just exiting the bathoom with a towel around her and her hair wrapped in a towel-turban.

    "I gotta poop," you tell her.

    "That's nice, Brad," says Sarah.  She walks off.

    You enter the bathroom, yank down your undies and sit on the can.

    You poop for a good while, then get up, flush the toilet, close the door, and wash your hands.

    And then it hits you:

    You flushed the diary down the toilet!


    Sigh.  Then go bonk Sandy.

    Return to the basement.

    Go in after it.