Another toilet flushes, but Sam barely hears it. He can't peel his eyes away from the gruesome sight of Blaine's brown-stained hand rising from the steaming pile of goop, like a zombie breaking slowly from its grave. "Blaine!"

Kitty tackles him, pushing him forward. "Run!" she screams. "He's a goner!"

"He's drowning!" He stands his ground, whereupon Kitty simply abandons him. Yeah, she's like that; she figures that, since they'll all pop back to life within the hour, why bother? But Sam… it's, like, hardwired into his brain to help. Especially when it comes to the people he's really close to.

He doesn't get the chance to move backwards, though, because Jake and Unique bowl into him next, pushing him along. "Shit happens, man!"

"Why did not Unique bring her running heels?" said girl wails, clopping along in her two-inches.

Sam casts one last glance over his shoulder, just in time to witness a shit-faced Blaine disappearing underneath the second stinky payload. Then Brittany's dancing behind him, urging him forward with little musical melodies that totally do not match the current mood of the situation.

They hit the criss-cross web of detecting lasers, indiscriminately setting off every single one in their frantic sprint for the distant end of the hall. When they've this far up Shit Creek without a paddle, they're not too picky about triggering five more dumps… though the roar of flushing toilets that rumbles overhead suggests that more than five extra dumps are on their way.

"Let me sing you the song of my people," Brittany trills, bouncing along merrily as if they aren't up to their mouths in shit. Which, technically, they're not; but, as the last two bringing up the rear of the No, You're Going To Die Battlefront, Sam fears that they'll be the next ones to drown.

"Not a song!" Sam huffs, barely keeping pace with her. The blonde can probably run tons faster than him, but he gets the feeling that she's maintaining a tiny lead to urge him to catch up to her.

She cheerfully inserts a bounce into her step as the terrible, continuous, gurgling, slopping sound of an approaching shitstorm splashes its way toward them. "Honey, let me sing you a song/ And listen to my words as they come out wrong/ But don't run away, run away this time!"

He briefly takes a moment to wonder just how Brittany's brain is wired that encourages her to burst into song with every thought. Does she think in song? Does she come up with all the words herself, or does she keep an iTunes library in her head? Or what if she's really a Transformer and lost the use of her mechanical voice box and has to use radio transmissions to communicate—

His meandering train of thought loses its shit and crashes and burns when, without warning, a nasty pile is deposited right in front of them, caging them in. The part of his brain that still has its shit together registers that loads of excrement are being dumped at random further down; this is not cruel fate, but a strategized approach to slowly drowning its victims.

Ahead, Artie screams like a little girl, frantically dancing in knee-deep waste. A little bit further down, Unique yanks on Jake's long arm, popping him free of some nasty poo. Leading them up front, Kitty is up to her boobs and not really giving a shit.

"Young hearts, out our minds/ Runnin' like we outta time," Brittany sings, grabbing his arm and yanking him out of his frozen state of observation and straight toward the revolting brownness. "Wild childs, lookin' good/ Livin' hard just like we should!"

"Noooo!" is all Sam can scream, before his brain tells his mouth to close NOW or else...

Then they're over their heads in shit. It's actually just the right temperature for comfy-ness; possibly fresh. Running through it is equivalent to trying to crawl through molasses, but with chunks. Bits and pieces, clumps and lumps brushing past his face and traveling down his shirt and pushing their way up his nose.

Sam wants to cry. Blaine had to die in this, alone. He didn't have anybody holding his hand, pulling his limp body through—

A second and a squelching pop later, Sam is through to the other side. He's alive!

Plus he can't help but smile toothily (even though the stuff that drips through his teeth tastes like shit) as Brittany continues to spout lyrics happily, pulling him along by his hand. "Looking for some trouble tonight/ Take my hand, I'll show you the wild side/ Like it's the last night of our lives/ We'll keep dancing till we die!"