I once heard of an enterprising exchange type who was on the way back from a 'boot shaped land' and somewhere over the Alps when they had an emergency state poo. With the brown caption flashing our intrepid aviator was faced with a dilemma. Go in the immersion suit and face a rather awkward chat with the Squippers or choose the easy option and dice with the reaper. They pinned the seat, unstrapped, took off their LSJ and goon bag and did the deed in a handy sick bag. As the mighty grey fin wasn't equipped with Andrex they used the next best thing..and on return plopped into the squips for new gloves...
