Bruce, sitting alone in his train compartment on a long journey, suddenly feels a nature call coming on strongly. He jumps up and runs down the corridor to the toilet. Trying frantically to open the

door, he finds it locked.

Bruce knocks urgently.

"Occupied!" comes a voice from inside.

He groans and hurries to the next toilet. Also locked.

Panic rising, he rushes further down the train, checking every single door. Each one is in use.

Desperate, he races back to his compartment, hoping to hold on until the next station. But the train is moving slower than his patience.

Just then, he notices a small paper cup on the table. In sheer desperation, he grabs it, checks the window for witnesses, and—well, let’s just say he solves his problem.

Relieved but horrified at what he’s done, he looks around nervously. What now? He can’t just leave it there.

Suddenly, the train jerks, and the cup tips over.

Bruce watches in horror as it spills onto his bag.

At that very moment, the ticket inspector walks in.

"Tickets, please!"

Bruce, sweating profusely, tries to act normal as the inspector eyes the suspicious liquid slowly soaking into the seat.

The inspector sniffs the air. "Sir… what’s that smell?"

Bruce stammers, "Uh… apple juice!"

The inspector frowns. "Sir, that does not smell like apple juice."

Bruce grins weakly.

"Well… it’s not fresh."