the american dungeon master Bellevue, Washington No.3092132 [Reply]
We are nine in a hole. Nothing will get us out of here. But we have eaten, we must relieve ourselves. The first of us to feel the urge climbs out. He has been there for two days now, ten feet away, killed, with his trousers down. We crap on paper and throw it up and out. When we have no more paper, we go in our haversacks. The Battle of Verdun continues. We go in our hands. Dysentery flows between our fingers. We crap blood. We go where we lie. We are devoured by flames of thirst. We drink our own urine. If we remain on this battlefield…..it is because they won't let us get away.
the spanish newfag Palma, Illes Balears No.3092148
Poetry.