Hoat sat in the bathroom, sitting naked on the porcelain throne. In his hand he held a small green capsule. It might have been his imagination, but it seemed to be glowing. 

"Well, here goes!" He tossed it into his beak and gulped. 

For a moment, there was nothing. It just slid into his belly and dissolved gently. Then, Hoat grunted as his feathered belly bulged out. 

"Oh fuck... there we go..." Hoat grinned as he felt his bowels swelling up. All the poop in his butt was being duplicated and reduplicated as the pill did its wicked work, filling his guts full. He was being stuffed with solid brown mass that was going to come out one way or the other. 

He wasn't going to keep it waiting. 

"Hrnghh-!" He grunted with glee, feeling his tailhole spread and spread wider. He trembled as a loaf of dung, impossibly thicker than his torso, pushed its way out through his butt. 

Within a moment, that single piece of shit had overwhelmed the toilet and impaled it under the sloppy monolith. Hoat found himself projected forwards by the force of his bowels. He flopped on his hands and knees by the door, just as the firm poop pillar dissolved into a sloppy pile, burying the toilet. 

The excited tingle was still rippling through Hoat's bowels, and he knew it was just the start. 

He walked over to the bath and stuck his huge feathered butt over the side. He pushed with deep satisfaction, crowing with delight as the fudgy muck rippled out of him, creating a lumpy, bubbly shit bath of his very own. 

He flopped down into it, the musky mess seeping into his feathers, before sticking his butt up in the air and fountaining his filth all through the room. Poop painted the ceiling, spreading a sludgy brown across the light fixture and splashing across the room. The tiles and floor vanished under the sliding stains. 

Hoat flipped him self up, arising coated in sludge. The mirror and the sink only had faint splatterings of muck. He fixed that with a tightly coiled dump that spilled out over the rim, drowning out the taps. He followed that up with a deluge of sludgy muck that drowned out the mirror.

The door opened. 

"Hey, Hoat. I was just wondering if I could use your shower- WHA-?!" Jules stared at the devastated sludge-pit that had become of the bathroom. Filth leaked out around his ankles and started to flow through the rest of the house. The earthy, humid stink was intolerable and intoxicating. 

The little otter was flushed and panting as he saw Hoat, the big bird coated head-to-toe with dung, spreading his cheeks to push out another turd thicker than he was. 

"Hey..." Hoat said, dreamily. "No showers, but I've got a mud bath ready... Want to join~?"