Los Angeles, CA
I went to a Jesuit high school on Park Avenue in Manhattan. It's the kind of environment that bred good manners because if you got out of line some of the priests would either give you detention (a.k.a. JUG an acronym called Justice Under God), or worse, they'd beat the shit out of you.
Mostly every freshman bought a maroon book bag with the school's insignia (with a Latin motto and seal on it). I had one. All the kids in my homeroom had one. The bookbag became prey for someone with serious mental issues.
The Mad Shitter roamed the locker room area and other parts of the school looking for unattended book bags. He'd steal book bags, go into the bathroom, and drop a deuce in the bag. Sometimes he'd take it back to the original scene of the crime. Other times he left the book bag in a random place like a stairwell or in the lower gym. Whenever a student found his lost book bag... he'd open it up to discover a large turd sitting on top. Sometimes the books and turds shifted during transport and you had shit smeared everywhere... on your notebooks, on text books, etc.
One of my friends couldn't find his book bag. He freaked out. Like crying, swearing, and sweating kind of a freak out. He thought about the worst case scenario... the Mad Shitter... stole his bag, then shat in it. He got a note from the school's main office. They found his book bag. It had his name scribbled in big black marker on the side. He sprinted to the lost and found office and picked up the bag. He shook furiously as he unzipped it. He opened up the bag and was relieved to see it was feces free. He was one of the lucky ones. Another friend had his stolen a week later in the cafeteria. It was discovered in the quad with a couple of pebble-like turds. He's fortunate the Mad Shitter didn't have a larger fecal arsenal that day, or worse, ate Thai food for lunch and had an ass-explosion in his bag.
The Mad Shitter stopped one day and no one ever heard from him again. We assumed it was a senior who graduated and moved to a new university and tormented his new classmates. Or the Mad Shitter was one of the trouble makers who got kicked out at the end of the year for bad grades and/or disciplinary reasons. One rumor suggested the Mad Shitter was a disgruntled teacher. Yes, a man of the cloth. I attended a Jesuit high school, so you can image the horrific image of a drunken priest stealing his students' book bags to defecate in. Perfect revenge.
In nomine Patris, et Filii, et Spiritus Sancti... SHITHEAD!
The second Mad Shitter story happened in my dormitory during freshman year. One day, someone went around and took a huge dump in the toilet... but left a massive-sized turd without flushing. I'm talking like legitimate foot long salami. Near perfect shit-torpedoes. It was like a giant bear broke into the bathroom, went into the stall, and deposited a log without flushing. One kid discovered it and knocked on everyone's door so they could see it themselves. It was like finding a dead corpse or paying your respects to a deceased former Head of State's open coffin. Everyone on my floor lined up in the hallway and quietly took turns going into the stall to gawk the shit-sculpture.
Afterwards, we gathered in someone's room and played Nintendo baseball while discussing the culprit.
"It's definitely bigger than a baby's arm."
"Dude, it's bigger than a baboon's arm."
"At least they got all of it in the toilet."
"Better the bowl than in your bed."
"I betcha it was that fucker, Peck."
Over the next month, someone would randomly stumble across an unflushed log. It happened on my floor numerous times before the Mad Shitter expanded his territory and dropped a bomb in the first floor bathroom. My friends and I made a list of potential subjects. We didn't rule out anyone at first and casually inquired everyone's eating habits and daily diet, while we slowly vetted everyone in the dorm.
Each floor of the my dorm was either all-male or all-female. The males lived odd-numbered floors and the women lived on even-numbered floors. The Mad Shitter had clogged up toilets on the first and third floor (where I lived with Skippy). Things got really weird when the Mad Shitter struck on one of the ladies' floors. That really freaked them out, but it offered a huge clue for us. My amateur-detective friends were instantly suspicious of all the girls in our dorm. They could navigate men's floors with ease and no one would think twice if they went in/out of one of our toilets. We shifted our mode of thinking. Perhaps the Mad Shitter was a gal and not a guy? Could we set a trap? Were we really going to stake out all of the toilets? How could we get away with hanging out in the ladies' toilets without getting arrested for pervert peeping tom abbe rant behavior.
We made wanted posters with sharpies and posted them in the hallways and stairwells.
"WANTED! The MAD SHITTER!"Most of the posters included rudimentary drawings of shit piles or banana-like turds. We never caught the Mad Shitter. He/she stopped dropping mammoth-sized deuces before Spring Break. The toilets were log-free for the rest of the year. The Mad Shitter disappeared. He/she got away with it, but must've got spooked out that we were hot on their trail.
At the end of the school year, I moved into my fraternity house. I never thought about the Mad Shitter until two and a half years later. One random night, someone discovered a ginormous unflushed turd in the upstairs toilet. Perhaps it was one of my fraternity brothers who also lived on my freshman dorm? The list was small. Three or four guys. Maybe it wasn't a gal after all? Twenty years later, I still have my suspicions. Who was the Mad Shitter that terrorized Atlanta in the early 90s?
* * *
When I lived in Seattle in the late 90s, I shared a big-ass house in the University District with seven other people. We had a roommate who was the "Mad Pisser" and would urinate on the upstairs bathroom floor. He had bad aim and splashed everywhere. I made a sign on yellow legal pad and a green marker.
"WANTED! The MAD PISSER!"One of my roommates fessed up to the problem. He turned himself in and revealed that he was afflicted with a sleepwalking problem and would get up in the middle of the night and go to the bathroom to leak without watching where he went. He couldn't control himself. During normal hours, he hit the bowl without any problems, but during his sleepwalking trance, he had terrible aim.
I forgave him and told him to buy a mop and clean his piss up. After busting the Mad Pisser, we never had any other incidents.
P.S. If you're a super-fan of Tao of Pauly, then you know I have told stories about the "fat naked guy" who was one of my weirdest roommates of all time. He was much older than us... in his 50s... and he was down on his luck, which is why he had to rent a small room with a bunch of college students and 20-somethings. Anyway, he would sit in the his darken room (only a desk lamp as the only light source) with the door slightly ajar while listening to classical music but he was naked while sitting at his desk. Hence, he was the fat naked guy. Shortly after the Mad Pisser incident, I had to give him a talking to on behalf of a couple of my female housemates who were utterly appalled at his nakedness. He apologized. Fat Naked Guy continued to listen to classical music while naked, but at least with the door closed.