Relax your hold a little

You decide to relax a little, whatever the consequences may be. You're half surprised when you don't immediately begin flooding your pants. Maybe you didn't have to go as badly as you thought.

As you continue walking you feel a dull pressure beginning an inexorable build-up in your mid-section. You try to tighten your hold again, but the feeling keeps intensifying. You can hear that Waylon is talking, but don't pay attention to his words.

In the back of your mind you already know what's about to happen. You begin trying to prepare mentally, telling yourself it won't actually be that bad.

When it starts, you know there's no stopping it. You stop focusing on holding and instead focus on walking as if nothing out of the ordinary is happening. As you stride purposefully forward, the warm gush of liquid alternates between running down one leg and then the other.

As you approach the lights of the gas station, you risk a glance back and can see a long trail of drips and splotches behind you.

Waylon stops talking, apparently having realized that you're not actually listening. You pray that he doesn't notice anything.

The two of you pause at an intersection just outside the glare of a brightly lit gas station. Hurriedly you finish emptying your bladder before the street light changes.