"AAAAAAAAAAAAGH!" screams Sarah.
She covers herself and stares at you in disbelief.
"Get the fuck outta here, you sick-o!"
Calmly disregarding her hissy-fit, you walk over to the toilet.
Sarah starts throwing shampoo bottles at you, but her hands are wet, and the bottles slippery. She hasn't hit you yet.
You kneel down in front of the toilet, and lift the cover and the seat.
Looking down, you see...