Had a friend who worked at subway, gave me the hookup on a chicken parmesian sub. Ate it, and notice the chicken was cold, didn't care, munchies are a bitch. Went to friends house, friends not there. Call him, he says 10 minutes. I wait outside in the cold for about 20. Call him back. As I'm talking, I feel lava in the stomach. I had time to say "Oh shit", then instantly puked down the front of myself. As I was puking, lava started flowing out the other end. Happened so fast, no time to drop trow. As he pulls up, I ask him for trash bags. I take off my drawers, lose the puke shirt/shitwater soaked boxers. Notice only a small stain in the jeans so I put them back on. I tell him I'm going to smoke a cig (don't smoke). Call another buddy tell him my car's broke, need a ride. I tell him to open the trunk when he arrives, throw one inconspicuous triple bagged shitty boxer/puke shirt combo in and hop in without a shirt on. It's 10F out, so he asked why no shirt. I tell him I spilt beer. He gives me a ride home, and I finally tell him the story. He damn near pukes laughing while watching me toss said bag. I walk inside, shower/change, take some pepto, and get a ride back to my buddies house while I tell story over some doobage action. My friend no longer works I subway, and I still refuse to eat there.