So yeah. This is one of those stories I’ll deny if anyone I know ever connects the dots, but here we go.

I have this cart battery—pretty standard, nothing fancy. It’s about the size of a lipstick tube, smooth, rounded edges, and for reasons I still can’t fully justify (curiosity? boredom? untreated chaos in my brain?), I decided to, uh… see if it could multitask.

Cut to me in the previous class period, bored out of my mind during a film lecture, and my brain just goes: “Hey, what if we, like… y’know…” I won’t go into anatomical detail, but let’s just say the battery saw a side quest it never signed up for.

Fast forward to next period—I’m in the bathroom, and my friend walks in while I’m washing my hands. He goes, “Dude, what smells like literal sewage in here?” And I immediately freeze because yeah… that smell? It was my poor cart battery in my backpack. It was not okay. Like, it smelled like something had died, come back, and died again.

I panicked and blamed the plumbing. Then I left. Fast.

Now I can’t even look at the thing. I feel like it’s judging me. I KNOW I can’t use it again (for either purpose), but I also can’t throw it away without imagining someone finding it and unlocking this dark chapter of my life.

TL;DR TIFU by turning my cart into a personal experiment and learning the hard way that some devices should never be multipurpose.