Lighthearted, and risk free. Given that this is all anonymous and all that.
When I was fourteen, I was out with my friend after drama club. It was winter and dark and fucking freezing but I was sweating as well as shivering. We were walking to her grandma's house in the next village where I was getting picked up by my stepdad in about an hour. I was quite clearly ill, but my mum had not believed me and sent me to a long day at school. As we were walking, my belly churned and I knew that there was gastric trouble afoot. I excused myself into an innocent looking field for "a wee" but I knew it was not that. Thankfully, there were no street lights at all, so even if someone had come past, they'd not have seen. It was pitch black. My friend kept watch while my bowels evacuated what seemed like water and slime for about five minutes and sweat dripped off my body onto the ground, I can remember how much I was shaking and how I had the weirdest taste of metal in my mouth. When the onslaught ended, I didn't know how to wipe my bum. I took off my school tie, wiped with that and then had no idea what to do so I just discarded it at the scene and shamefully scuttled back to my friend. I was then off school for a week with some kind of horrible intestinal infection.
But the field. The quiet little field I'd chosen to slip over the fence into. It was a graveyard. And I'd relieved myself right next to a war grave. Right before armistice. And left my school tie there. How do I know? Because it was in the school newsletter as a "regrettable incident" and anyone with information as to who the culprit was could report in confidence to the headteacher. I expect the groundskeeper reported it to the school. Even my mum tutted about no respect. Thank god it was over 20 years ago. Nowadays it would have trended with a hashtag and a witch hunt.
And now I have finally told the tale. What's yours?