A Swig of the Vile

Arthur sat by the fire, nursing a bottle of whiskey. It had been a long day of hunting and he was looking forward to a nice, relaxing evening in camp. As he took a swig from the bottle, he heard a commotion coming from the other side of the camp.

Curious, Arthur got up and walked over to investigate. To his horror, he saw some of the other gang members gathered around a bucket, laughing and pointing. Curiosity turned to disgust as Arthur realized what was in the bucket – liquid shit.

One of the gang members, a mischievous young man named Micah, was holding the bucket and egging on the others to take a drink. Arthur couldn't believe his eyes as he watched one by one, the gang members took a swig of the foul-smelling liquid.

Feeling a combination of horror and amusement, Arthur approached Micah. "What in tarnation are you doing?" he demanded.

Micah smirked and held out the bucket. "Just having a bit of fun, Arthur. Want to give it a try?"

Arthur's stomach turned at the thought of drinking liquid shit, but a wicked idea crept into his mind. With a devilish grin, he took the bucket from Micah's hands and raised it to his lips.

The other gang members gasped in shock as Arthur took a long swig of the vile liquid. He didn't swallow – he couldn't bear the thought of actually ingesting it – but he played along, pretending to enjoy the taste.

As he lowered the bucket, Arthur burst out laughing, unable to contain his amusement at the horrified expressions on the faces of his comrades.

"Ah, you bastards got me good," he chuckled. "But I'll have the last laugh, mark my words."

And with that, Arthur walked away, leaving the gang members speechless and wondering what other tricks he had up his sleeve. It was a moment of camaraderie and mischief that would go down in camp lore for years to come. And though Arthur never did drink liquid shit again, the memory of that night would always bring a smile to his face.