People don't have party's in their colons, do they? This guy sure does. Read on to learn about how it all came about, and why he now joins the great neverending party in his colon.

The Colon Party

I do not remember ever origionally having a problem with my colon, but in recent months I've come to discover that there is a small cave resort that has been causing me constipation problems. After one particularly strainful poop during which I discovered my third nipple, I had a revolation come to me. While a particularly slimey poop was coming out, I heard a small voice. It distinctly sounded like a muppet. I knew that muppets did not live in or near my bathroom facilities, so instinctively I decided to investigate. The first few places I looked for the source of the voice in turned out to be dead ends. I checked in the bathtub, and under the dead body. All that seemed to be in the bathtub was the pigeon that lives in the drain hole. He cooed at me and I consiquencially stopped up the drain. The body seemed limp as usual, none of the signs that it might be coming back to life, which I doubted anyway. I then proceeded to check under the sink, in the cabinets where I keep the trash can and toilet paper. I was mezmorized under the cabinet for a good three hours by the psychadelic colors and the hypnotic music that floated out from within. When I finally came to, I realized that the voice I had origionally been searching for was now much louder and seemed to be coming from behind me. I bent to get a better view of the source, and came to discover that it was somewhere on my back side, or rather, my ass. After adjusting myself on top of the counter so that I didn't fall off, I held up a vanity mirror, and looked through it into the big mirror on the wall. What the big mirror then reflected back to me made me stop short in my breath. Hanging half way out of my anus, was a very large poop (so thats what that grabbing feeling was). What amazed me about this particular poop however, was the fact that there was a small man wearing blue jeans and a red t-shirt, sticking legs first into the the turd. I immediately asessed the situation and got to work. Luckily, I still had a pair of tweezers laying close by from my tongue hair trim earlier in the day. As I carefully positioned the tweezers around the base of the turd, right down by the anus, the small man started shrieking. I withdrew the tweezers and positioned my mirror more closely so as too see the expression on his face. It did not appear happy. Apparantly, the tweezers were squeezing the poop around his legs and causing him severe discomfort. I realized that the situation called for more drastic measures than I had origionally assessed. I proceeded to walk bow legged toward the kitchen, where I might obtain some sort of cutting device. Upon retrieving a pair of scissors from an unlikely crevice below the dishwasher, I hurridly waddled back toward the bathroom. Upon resuming my squatting position on the counter, the small man started yelling profanities that I dare not repeat. Rather than leave him there as a punishment, I opted to go ahead and remove him to alleviate my anal discomfort. I positioned the scissors carefully around the base of the turd, carefully avoiding the flesh of my swollen sphinctor muscle, and sliced into the turd with one swift click of the scissors. Then I realized my mistake. I had unintentionally forgotton to catch the end of the turd when it became separated, which caused it to fall with a sickening plunge into the sink. It stuck, flat side down, on the porcelien. I jumped down from the sink, and released my sphinctor muscle. I felt the warmth of the poop as it slid back into a comfortable position inside of me, closing off my anal opening. I then proceeded to take my trusty magnifying glass out of my rear leg pocket, so as to get a better look at the small man trapped within the turd. When I focused in on his face, I realized that he was looking at me with an expression of total bewilderment. His eyes were darting back and fourth, trying to take in all of my enormous face. It only occured to me then how big I must look to him. He was no bigger than my little finger. As I watched him wriggle and squirm, trying to free himself from the turd, I was overcome with a sense of pity. I felt very sorry for the little man, not just because he was lodged in a piece of poop, but because I realized that he had been living in my colon for who knows how long. I reached down with my index finger and stroked him on the top of his tiny head. "Don't worry little guy, I'm not going to hurt you. I'm here to help." He apparantly understood what I was saying, because the muscles in his face relaxed and he seemed to get a bit more comfortable in my presence. "Want me to help you out of there?" I asked in a minuscle voice? "Yes.", came a tiny reply. I reached down with two of my fingers and placed a firm, but not tight grip around his waist. I counted to three, and with a sickening slurp, pulled him out of the turd. I then placed him on the counter beside the sink. He began wiping the large smears and tiny chunks of feces from his pants. After what seemed like ten minutes of me staring at him in awe, he looked back up at me. "Thank you, giant. I was sure to die in that thing." I gave him a look of pity, and spoke very politely to him. "Why were you stuck in my feces my little one? What is your name?" He replied very quickly, as though he were afraid to speak of it. "I don't know how I got into the poop. The last thing I remember before being in the turd was taking a shot of bile juice and falling over the back of the couch. Then I woke up, and I was hanging from your anus. Oh, and my name is Tim." "Is there anything I can help you with Tim?", I asked. "Yes, there is", he replied, "I need to get back to my home, where my relatives are having a party. They will be missing me." I wondered for a moment about where exactly he lived, and then decidedly asked him. "Your colon." he replied. I knew then that I must be suffering from some sort of ailment, because I specifically heard him say that he lived in my colon. I asked again, this time more slowly. "Where do you live Tim?" He replied again with the same answer, "Your colon sir." I could not understand how he could live in my colon, and even more, how many others might be in my colon. I inquired into this. "Tim, how could you live in my colon? It's not a habitable environment, nor is it clean. And you said you have relatives there?" "Precicely," he replied, "We've lived there your whole life. When you were born, we were also born, inside your colon. It's a lovely warm place, with a very high humidity; perfect for people of our kind." I wondered at once, what he meant by 'his kind', so I asked. "My kind, the colon people of course. We are a tiny race of humans that have hives in every large humans colon. It is not normal however, for us to be flushed out with a bowel movement. I don't know exactly how I am supposed to get back inside you." I pondered this for a minute, deciding on whether I really wanted him back in my colon or not. Then, in a hurried decision, I made for the store. "Wait here.", I said to him before leaving. He gave me a look of hurt, and sat down on the edge of the counter. "Do you want to come with me?", I asked him out of pity. "Oh yes, I would love to see what a store looks like, I've never been to one." I picked him up and placed him carefully onto my shoulder, where he sat down and started to pick his nose. "Please, don't pick your nose.", I said politely to him. "Sorry.", came the reply. "We're going to have to go in the car Tim, the store is a long way from here. Have you ever been in a car before?" "No, and I don't know exactly what a car is either." "Well that's all right little Tim, I'll show you. Cars are what we use for transportation outside of the colon. How do you get around in my colon, if I might ask?" "We just walk and slide, if you get my meaning." I decided to just leave it at that. We headed out to the car and got in. Tim sat on my shoulder, taking in everything around him. As we made our way across the town to the store, Tim made odd belching noises and a small amount of fluid landed on my shirt. "What's wrong?", I asked him quickly. "I don't know, I feel sick." "That's motion sickness. You're just not used to seeing things go by so fast. I'm sure things don't go very fast in my colon do they?" "No sir, they don't. The fastest we ever see anything go is when the poop is shooting through the main tunnels toward your anal opening. This is totally different." I imagined he was right. The real world looked nothing like the inside of a colon, and I'm sure there are more colors outside the colon than in. Before I knew it, we were at the store. "Tim, I suppose you can stay on my shoulder while we go in here. Just keep your voice down, I don't think anyone would understand what a small man is doing on my shoulder." We went into the store and started brousing the isles. They had everything you could ever imagine, but we were after something specific. I headed straight to the womens unmentionable section. My eyes were filled with brightly colored pink and blue packages that said 'Maxi' on them. After a minute of looking, I finally spotted the item I was after. "Tim, will this work?", I asked as I held up an enema tube. "I plan on putting you, and some water inside the tube, and squirting you back inside me." "I don't think that will work sir, what if I get stuck in another piece of feces on my way in?", Tim replied hesitantly. "I see your point, Tim. Do you have any other ideas?" "Well...." We arrived back at the house and headed immediately for the bathroom. "Tim, I really wish you had told me I wasn't wearing any pants in the supermarket. That was a bit embarassing." "I didn't realize it wasn't normal for the entrance to your colon to be exposed sir. I'm extremely sorry." "That's alright, at least we got something that will work." I sat the bag of items down on the bathroom counter and started pulling them out. Two bottles of lubricant...Four pairs of locking tongs...and one flashlight. "I don't understand what we need the flashlight for, Tim." "You'll see. Just do what I told you." I proceeded to bend over again, after placing Tim on the counter. I did exactly as he instructed me, and placed the locking tongs in different corners of my buttocks, also connecting each set to my anus. The resulting opening that was formed was quite large. It reminded me of a cave I had once visited as a kid, with small pink stalagtites and stalagmites at random intervals. I proceeded to lube up the opening as I had been instructed. "Alright Tim, now what?" "I'll go first, place me in your anus." I wondered what he meant by first as I picked up his small body and placed it inside the opening between my buttocks. "Now grab the flashlight!", Tim yelled out at me. I followed his order and switched the light on. "Now bend over and stick your arm and your head in the opening!" I knew he had to be kidding. "Tim, how am I supposed to do that? And why would I want to?" "You'll see, just bend over and come in. That's what the lubricant's for." I hesitantly bent over and stuck my head far between my legs. I let my arm go in first, wriggling its way up into my colon. Using the other arm, I added more lube to the opening and to my already inserted arm, and counted to three. When I hit three, I shoved my head with all my might toward my anal opening. The lube did its job, because the second I hit, my head slid right in. "Lucky I have this flashlight.", I said to Tim in the dark cavern of my colon. Tim beckoned for me to follow him, so I did, slowly pushing my head further and further up my ass. After what seemed like an eternity of fecal matter and slimey curving walls, we came to an extremely large open chamber. It somewhat reminded me of the molded insides of a chocolate milk carton, and smelled about the same too. What really got to me though, was that there were many many more of the tiny people...and furniture. They had everything a normal house would have, except that it wasn't a normal house, it was my colon. I almost felt out of place, had it not been for the fact that the room was in my own colon. How could this room have been here my whole life, with me never knowing about it? And what's more, if there is always a loud rauicous party going on in my colon, why have I never heard it? There was music playing, though I could not tell where it was origionating from, and people were dancing everywhere. "I'd like you to meet my friends.", said Tim. "Hello.", I said to them all. Apparantly they hadn't noticed me yet due to my size, because when I spoke, they all stopped dancing and turned to see where the voice had come from. "Guys, I'd like to introduce you to your host. It's his colon that we've been having this party in all our lives." "Pleasure to meet you.", came many replies. I was amazed at the politeness of the tiny colon people. They seemed to treat me with great respect, though that was probably due to the fact that if it weren't for me, they would not be here partying. One of the small people came up to my nose and engaged me in conversation. We talked for quite a while, about all manner of things. After a while, I started to realize that the oxygen was becoming quite thin. "Tim", I said, "I don't think I can stay much longer, I'm running out of air." "That's okay", Tim replied, "But will you come back and visit?" "Definately. I'll make it a point to visit you once a week, just to see how things are going." "Great! We can't wait to see you again, it's been a pleasure. And thanks a lot for rescuing me from that piece of feces. I would have been a goner if it weren't for you." "It wasn't any problem at all Tim, I think I've learned a lot today." And so that was my first visit to the colon party. I've been visiting them every week since, bringing them all sorts of new things to play with and use. And now I 'never' take a poop anymore without intensely checking the entire thing for tiny people from the colon party.

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