He was overcome by fatigue. He tried to push, in vain, the shit would not stop. He cried to himself the cramps rumbling up and down his abdomen, cried for the floor, and the mess he would have to clean. He thought about all of his life choices leading up to this moment. He thought of the smoothie, the Hamborger, The sausages. All gone in under fifteen minutes. But he would pay. He was paying. He tried one last time to push, save what he could. He blanked out. At some point, Tom stopped breathing.