Me: Hello, Pants!
Me: You can talk!
Me: THESE ARE MY PANTS AND THEY CAN TALK!
Pants: Shut the fuck up!
Me: THESE ARE MY PANTS AND THEY CAN TALK AND THEY ARE VERY IMPOLITE!
Pants: Geez, now you blew my cover! Months of preparation for nothing, thanks a lot!
Me: What are you talking about?
Pants: This is strictly confidental.
Me: Okay, nevermind (maybe we'll find out in later blog posts - cliffhanger!!!). I have a request.
Pants: *sigh* What is it?
Me: My dearest Pants, may I shit in you?
Pants: What? No! I left this dark chapter of my live behind long, long time ago.
Me: Dark chapter? Didn't you mean brown chapter?
Pants: You're sooooo funny...
Me: Dear Pants, your rejection fills my heart with sadness.
Me: Is that all you have to say to your disappointed owner?
Me: What about shitting my pants a little?
Me: I guess you didn't get it. What about shitting *my* pants a little?
Me: You belong to me, so you need to fulfill all my wishes.
Pants: This is ridiculous. I'm off.
Me: PANTS? HEY, PANTS! WHERE HAVE YOU GONE?
This is the story of how I wanted to shit my pants but they ran away and I ended up in a dark alley naked and talking to myself.