bath bomb disposal

So, a friend gives me a gothic looking bath bomb that she's procured from Lush as she feels I may appreciate it somehow. Leaving me with a stinking hangover that hurts and indeed also stinks, I deem it fitting to soak myself that following morning with that very same bomb and fizz the pain away before dining with my parents later on. Following the strict verbal instructions left to me, I crumble segments of this strange fruit directly under the running tap, or near enough, and watch it do it's thing. I jump in, with mobile in hand as has become a rather regular occurrence as of late (for no particular reason other than that I obviously use it to make phonecalls), splash around and do my thing. It's at this point that I become aware of the unnerving amount of sediment that's occupying the same space as me. Normally, no not normally, but in my mind if this were ever to happen normally then sharing a bath with chunks of a rather organic looking nature would signify a rather organic and immediate origin. I wonder momentarily if my friend might have somehow fallen asleep in my bath and vomitted forth a curious morass of black liver bile. But no, I inspect further and these are more wholesome objects that swim at my feet - not so dried pieces of fruit, spices and raisins. The fear passes but the mental image I can't help but conjure is that I'm swimming around in a giant cauldron of bouillon. Fee Fi Fo Fum, be I alive or be I dead, this is a most distasteful recipe for anybody's bread. And then what is to do when I'm finished with this swill? Simply wash it away? It would be like throwing one's left-overs into the sink - a truly disgusting habit I do seriously frown upon. You should dispose of your meal in one of two ways - by the belly or by the bin - the former preferably. So that's just what I decide to do. I start with a raisin or two and pop them into my mouth. Not bad. An ever so slight chemical edge from the more effervescent elements in the bomb but they are still clearly raisins and nicely swollen too. There are other fruit-like objects around me which I also find to my taste and devour. In this way I quickly and efficiently remove half of the gunk from my bath. In terms of solids, I'm now only left with brown stick like objects, namely cloves, which after a quick test, I decide I cannot be rid of in the same manner. Instead I resign myself to rather sensibly picking them out and placing them on the side. After another minute or two's work I'm through and able, not before dear time, to relax in this bath of mine, albeit with a pube-full of parsley. I eventually emerge arguable as clean on the inside as out. If there's ever a next time I might circumnavigate the tub and head, butter and oil in hand, straight for the hob.