What do you do in a packed club if you suddenly feel your stomach lurch and threaten to expel vile diarrhoea down your legs? Why, you push through the crowds and force your way to the front of the queue for the ladies, mumbling, "sorry, sorry, gotta get through," of course.
What do you do when you discover - after a violent, backsplashing case of the runs - that there's no toilet paper? And that the toilet won't flush? Why, you remove the cistern cover and dip your hands in the water, rubbing furiously at your bits, and then rubbing your hands even more furiously in the cistern, of course.
But what on earth do you do when you open the door and standing in front of you, wrinkling her nose in horror at the overpowering stench you've created, is Kat from Eastenders?