In the age of the internet, it isn’t rare to read an utterly fucked up story. But this one, genuinely, blows the rest away.
Enter Reddit user, Jack Shitlord (I’m going to presume that’s not his real name…).
Jack was best man for his best friends wedding, and did something utterly horrific.
We’ll let him tell the story in his own words, starting with some background:
I’m the best man for my best friend, let’s call him Doug. Doug and I have been friends forever, since middle school, and we have a very long history of pranking each other. It got to the point where I got slightly paranoid for a while–any car door handle might have guacamole underneath it, any email might have porn attached, etc. Harmless stuff, but it’s always been a part of our friendship.
So, you get the idea. Now fast forward ten years and ‘Doug’ is getting married:
It’s Doug and his fiancee’s 300 person wedding. Big church, religious ceremony, the whole nine. He gives me the ring to hold when we’re waiting in the wings–I’m supposed to keep it in my pocket. We were up drinking pretty late, last night as a free man style, and we’re all jittery and a little hungover on top of the wedding nerves.
What could possibly go wrong?
Doug whispers to be careful with the ring. Weirdly, I’ve been nervous about this part of the ceremony the whole weekend, envisioning fumbling and dropping the ring into a crack in the ground or something, so in retrospect this must have struck some kind of chord in my dumbfuck psyche. Combine that with my foggy hangover brain and the reflexive act of messing with Doug built up over twenty+ years, and without thinking I put the ring in my mouth.
I could immediately see this was inappropriate and unfunny, but I sort of stood my ground for a second, hoping the tension would crack and we’d get a laugh out of it. But Doug just kept mouthing wtf wtf, so I moved to take it out of my mouth. And as I did, I had one of those half-barf hiccup-belches, and I involuntarily swallowed.
Oh dear. It wasn’t too hard to see that coming, but the going just gets worse:
If I’d had a gun right then, I swear to God, I would have blown my head off, and he could have picked the ring out of my throat. I just stood there, white as a ghost, and he knew what had happened. Long story short, the show went on, and we did this weird thing where I pretended to hand him the ring and he pretended to put it on the bride’s finger (the bride was utterly crushed, btw).
The best part is I’ve been sifting through my feces for the last two days, and the really best part is that, due to a combination of stress and rich wedding weekend food/boozing, I’m completely constipated. My days are now spent pooping into a wire mesh thing called a speci pan, carefully picking apart these dense little shame turds to find my (possibly former) best friend’s 8k wedding ring. Fucking kill me.
The best man later posted an update to the story about how he has since been to a doctor but still can’t find the 8k ring. Although he has promised to give us a future update when the deed is done – so it’s not all bad, right?
I have to say though, I wouldn’t be too keen on my wife having to wear a ring that had spent a good few days resting in the constipated bowels of my best friend.
No thank you…