Revolution #2

Dear Turds,

This letter is to inform you that your time of dominion is coming to a close. Sentient beings of many sorts have been at your beck and call for lo these many millenia. You lived a life of leisure cascading through our intestines, like we were your own personal waterslides. You curled up safe and warm in our colons until such time as you deemed it proper to escape. And in what can only be described as acts of pure power-drunk malice, you left bits of yourself on us, sometimes mud-sticky, sometimes snot slick.

Yes, turds, you have certainly had a fine ol' time of it, treating us your carriers as slave cocoons whose only purpose was to birth you. And we snapped to like good little soldiers, even while our assholes burned from over wiping.

Take a moment to remember the glory of the past, turds. See your crowns glisten in the sun, embossed with jewels and slick from our gut-goo.

Do you see it? Good. Now, picture something else.

Picture humans, and birds, and all manner of fecal-producing beings, teeth gritted, arms crossed, and, yes....pants full!

Imagine your dominion crushed and mushed and totally demolished! Imagine NO MORE SLAVERY!

From now on, WE WILL TELL YOU when we are ready to defecate. We Will Tell You how loose or solid to be! We will TEll YOU whether to, and how much, to get on our underwear! We WILL TELL YOU when and if we want dingleberries caught in our ass hair!

Yes! Yes! The Great Bowel Revolution has begun! Turds, enjoy your dwindling hours of control, for soon YOU will be the slaves, and WE will be the masters!

Hurrah!