There once was a woman who walked regularly from her office in Midtown Manhattan to a hotel across the street in order to use the bathroom, and that woman may have been one of us.

That woman had a friend, at another office job, who carried a book of matches and a can of air freshener in her purse — more willing to set off the office fire alarm than leave any hint of odour in a public lavatory.

That friend had another friend, at another office job, who repeatedly forced her body to do the deed so quickly —

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