In the world’s worst choose-your-own-path book, we pose this question: what’s your next step? Leave it in the toilet and tell your date, hoping they’re as cool about it as you? Leave it and deny all knowledge? Throw it in the bin, fingers crossed it doesn’t stink out the flat before you can retrieve it unseen, like a poo ninja in the night? Find an implement to break it up, probably the toilet brush, and then stay upstairs as long as it takes to get rid of it?

Or, try and throw it out of the window, realise it’s stuck, tell your date and then get stuck yourself, upside down, in the poo window, resulting in the fire brigade having to rescue you and your date setting up a crowdfunder to pay for the broken bathroom?

As Smyth recalls, “She returned with a panicked look in her eye, and told me she had something to tell me. ‘I went for a poo in your toilet,’ she told me ‘and it would not flush. I don’t know why I did this, but I panicked.’

“She continued ‘I reached into the toilet bowl, wrapped it in tissue paper, and threw it out of the window’.”

It’s at this point Smyth reveals that a “design quirk” of his student house means the window is actually a double window, and the poo she’d dropped out of it was now stuck in the “twilight zone” between glass panes.

This Tinder date escalated into the worst first date story you’ve heard this year