We drove back.
"So, you looking forward to getting home after this?" he asked.
"So you can shit out the stuff we just ate earlier? How you feeling, by the way?"
"I'm looking forward to getting to a bathroom," I said. "Try to save it for the home toilet, not have to pull over in a gas station."
"Oh, you don't want to do that, dude."
Brolin started making diarrhea noises.
"Ahhhh! Plllllllllpppppp! The pain will hit, and you're on your bathroom floor, in a fetal position, can't even make it to the toilet."
"What do you think," he said. "Huh?"
"I don't know. I don't think it's gonna be that bad."
"It might be, though."