Brinkmanshit

By gad sir, Fetch me my commode, For my bow'ls are full to brimming, I fear I must unload. D’you hear me sir? What is the delay? I have a stool to pass, I can not wait all day. I need relief ‘pon my potty, This delay is most unkind, Do you know the strain, Placed ‘pon my behind. I feel the stains amassing, I’ll rupture with the gas, ‘Less I have my thunder mug, Beneath my courtly ass. Well are you happy sir? Now my breeches have gone and split, And the floor of your shop, Is coated in my shit.