I grew up in a small town in the Texas Panhandle. It wasn't a bad place to be as a kid but was very boring as a teen. Nothing to do. Nowhere to go. Same people every day that you have known your whole life. While I was in High School, there was literally nothing at all to do on a Saturday night but hang out. Most of the places that we hung out at were along back roads. Me and my friends would all park our cars at night along side some road away from town. Drink some forbidden beer, lie about our sex lives, and brag about what we would do once we managed to get out of school.
On one particular night of drinking and lying and bullshitting, one guy decided that he needed to relieve himself. Not just with a beer induced whiz, but with what is sometimes euphemistically called a number two.
Well...this guy seemed to have some aversion to snakes, of which there were plenty of in that part of the world, so he decided to take advantage of the clear and varmit free area offered by the paved road we were parked alongside. Just us guys. Nobody ever used the road during the night. Somebody had a stash of napkins from a local drive thru. So off he went into the middle of the road to do his bizzness.
Right about half-way into the process.....headlights come up on him from around the corner.
The guy frantically tried to pull up his pants but was so flustered that all he managed to do was get them twisted up around his ankles. In a desperate attempt to get out of the way of the car that was quickly approaching, he started doing a mad hop and shuffle to the side of the road. The car zipped by and I remember a flashbulb image of an older couple staring open mouthed at some kid with his pants off dancing on the road. The guy managed to get to the side of the road where he promptly fell into a culvert covering himself with stickers and mud.
The rest of us were roaring. I thought I would never again laugh so hard in my life.
Until somebody yelled "snake".