F.A.P.S.
F. A. P. S. is like diarrhea but it burns so bad you think your butt is on fire. No chunks. Just pure misery.
My boss got F. A. P. S. in the meeting. The room went silent.
I had F. A. P. S. and my pants are now a permanent part of my body.
My little brother had F. A. P. S. and cried like I killed his goldfish.