One time in Missouri I swear to god a roc pooped on my car as I was driving down the street. Seriously, it was at least a cup of poop, a thick trail starting at

One time in Missouri I swear to god a roc pooped on my car as I was driving down the street. Seriously, it was at least a cup of poop, a thick trail starting at the front of the car, up and over the hood, looping on the windshield, and halfway across the roof. It took minutes of dedicated squeegeeing to clean it.