My body isn't happy. It's as if, with this sudden unexpected exercise, it's gone into shock mode, no it's retaliating, and has closed the bay doors. Holding hostages ransom if you like (crude) until normal service is resumed.
I'm being terrorised by my own bowels. Yeah? Well send in the SAS! I refuse to back down. Hear that?
Off for a slow walk to laxative shop.