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March 13, 2025 - Lionel Nation
09:25
POOMAGEDDON: BATHROOM NIGHTMARE AT 30,000 FEET! 💩✈️ Air India’s F*cal Free For All
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My friend, prepare to hear one of the worst stories you have ever heard in your life.
The story of Pumageddon.
A flight into the bowels of madness.
That's exactly what this is.
You see, my friends, if it's supposed to be a routine flight, no big deal, everybody is supposed to be happy.
A simple 14-hour jaunt, nothing more, nothing less, until everything went bad, quickly, and horribly.
A fecal feat, the likes of which you will never...
Be able to recover from.
As I said, it was supposed to be a routine flight, a simple 14-hour jaunt across the Atlantic from Chicago to Delhi.
But what the passengers of Air India Flight 126 received instead was a first-class ticket to the most unspeakable horror known to mankind.
A plane with no functioning toilets, but toilets clogged with human waste, egesta, and, shall we say, detritus.
The nightmare began somewhere over Greenland when a sinister truth began to fester in the bowels of the aircraft.
Something was clogging the toilets.
The passengers, blissfully unaware, continued their journey through the friendly skies, sipping ginger ale, chewing on their microwave-heated samosas, and enjoying the latest Bollywood blockbusters.
But deep, deep in the mechanical heart of the plane, a dark and sinister force was rising.
The toilet terror begins.
At first it was a minor inconvenience.
A single toilet out of order.
A small warning from the plumbing gods.
But then, like an avalanche of doom, the malfunction spread like a contagion, consuming toilet after toilet in its path.
By the time the crew realized the full scale of the disaster, 11 out of the 12 toilets were gone, swallowed by the unspeakable horrors of aviation plumbing failure.
For over 300 passengers, a singular unholy reality set in.
There was but one toilet left.
And it was in business class.
And when it came to their business, well, nobody wanted to wait for number two.
I have no idea what that meant.
Panic at 40,000 feet.
The name of the movie.
Kind of an Irwin Allen production.
What followed can only be described as a psychological experiment designed by Satan himself.
The realization that hundreds of caffeine fuels, samosa-stuffed passengers, without competing for a single bathroom, sent shivers down the spines of even the most seasoned travelers.
It began with silent desperation, nervous glances, crossed legs, Prayer to deities across various cultures.
The more brazen souls attempted to bargain with flight attendants, offering frequent flyer miles, jewelry, and even their firstborns for a chance at that sacred stall.
Then came the chaos.
People formed unsanctioned alliances, cutting deals, promising to hold spots in line in exchange for favors.
One brave soul fashioned a diaper out of a duty-free shard.
The most desperate passengers descended into madness, pacing the aisles, clutching their stomachs, chanting to themselves like prisoners of an airborne purgatory.
The return To hell!
As the station grew dire, the flight crew was left with one impossible decision.
Turn back or risk catastrophic mid-air sanitation events that are incomparable.
Inexplicable.
Some fought against the order, pleading with the pilots to push forward, to persevere, to let them brave the storm of discomfort and intestinal distress.
But in the end, Safety protocols took priority.
The order was given.
Return to Chicago.
Sweet home, Chicago.
For the next five hours, the aircraft was no longer a means of transportation, but a chamber of suffering.
A flying fortress of doom where relief was but a dream and the passage of time stretched into an agonizing eternity.
As the engines roared and the plane reversed course, passengers let out wails of despair, howls, realizing they had endured five hours of travel only to go back to where they started.
It was a flight to nowhere, a loop of misery, a purgatorial holding pattern where relief Remain tantalizing, out of reach.
Then, the landing.
As Flight 126 finally touched down at O 'Hare, passengers poured onto the tarmac, some collapsing in exhaustion, others...
sprinting to the nearest restroom like soldiers storming the beaches of Normandy.
The battle Air India issued a statement referring to the incident as a technical issue.
A phrase, A phrase so woefully inadequate that it might as well have been an inside joke.
Now think of this.
Meanwhile, passengers attempted to rebuild their shattered lives, demanding refunds, and trying to make sense of the horror they had endured.
Why?
One traveler whose cousin had missed their wedding in India due to the debacle described their experience as a never-ending fever dream of despair and bad airline food.
And the aftermath?
You see, questions remain.
What had caused this catastrophic plumbing failure?
Was it the samosas?
A sudden conspiracy?
The revenge of a vengeful toilet deity angered by excessive seat recliners?
I don't know.
And more terrifyingly, could it happen again?
Imagine you were there.
This was not just a flight delay.
This was not just a mechanical issue.
This was...
Pumageddon!
And no traveler would ever be the same again.
Thank you for letting me share that horror with you, my friend.
What do you think?
How would you have reacted?
Tell me what you thought, your thoughts, your own situation.
Has this ever happened to you?
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