This is it - the end of Puke Week. I think we’ll all be better off with this behind us. But even D-list events like the Special Olympics get a huge closing ceremony. So I figured - what better way to wrap up this celebration of vomit, than with the most sickeningly descriptive story that was submitted?

Here it is - a real stomach turner from my little buddy Kevin Kubusheskie.

This is probably the worst experience of my life:

Several years ago, when I was still in high school, I was spending the evening at my buddy’s (Aaron) house. We would always steal liquor from his parents’ liquor cabinet and dump it into a flask and roam the neighborhood while drinking. We would steal a little bit of all the liquor we could find, instead of a whole bunch of one kind, so it wasn’t as conspicuous. Little whiskey, little rum, little vodka, little gin, etcetera, all into one flask. We’d roam, we’d drink it down, and sneak back into his house when it was all gone so we could pass out in the comfort of his room.Well, I started to feel ill as I was getting ready for bed. Then, I felt it. The unmistakable feeling that I was going to vomit. The feeling that comes when your stomach tells your brain that no matter what happens in this world in the next 10 seconds or so, I am still going to vomit. It is inevitable.

So, I get up and bolt toward the bathroom. Halfway there, it comes out. So, I slam my hand against my mouth, covering it completely with all my might. Knowing where the toilet is in the bathroom, I decide that I am going to let it all go as I rush into the bathroom door and aim for the toilet. So, the moment of truth comes. Vomit seeping through my fingers as I turn into the bathroom. I aim at the spot where I know the toilet rests, waiting for my sick, and let loose.

Then, time froze. A thick trail of stomach grease froze in midair and everything around me stopped as I realized that the toilet seat and cover were down. The puke landed on the seat cover and splattered onto everything within a 5-foot radius. Again, I covered my mouth with my gross hand as I lifted the toilet seat up. By the time I got it up, the tidal wave of vomit blasted through both of my nostrils and onto everything else that wasn’t previously covered by the first wave.

I puked for about 5 minutes until I finally gained my composure and could sit back to survey the damage left behind by the firestorm of vomit. I literally could not believe it. I spent the next two hours dry heaving and gagging while cleaning up the most sickening and disturbing mess I have ever seen. Not only was I covered in vomit, but my nose was thick with it. Every breath yielded more heaving and more gagging from the most rancidly pungent smell to ever pass through my nostrils.

I had Aaron come look at what had just happened. He couldn’t believe it, either. But no one ever found out about it, so I guess I cleaned it up well. That night and that smell will haunt me forever and beyond. So now, every time I vomit and tell myself how much it sucks, I just think of that one fateful night. Nothing seems even remotely bad when compared to that.