Shrek was just sitting there in the shower, butthole suctioned to the floor, none and many thoughts behind those eyes, and soup swirling behind those rock hard bumps of a sixpack, a sixpack that could grate cheese. "That sponge man could absorb my intestinal fibres anytime." his brain thinked. The head of his thick, veiny, chunky, fuzzy, wide, long, buff, hefty, muscley, green champion suddenly lead what followed straight upwards, slapping his greasy forehead, shower water dripping onto his swampy narts. He proceeded to snatch his largest bar of soap and penetrated it, slowly, the heat melting the bar before it could break in half. Bubbles formed as he fantasize about that bussy bower. In about 30 seconds he's finished with a "Nyahh~" and Shrek all over the walls, the ceiling, the curtains, the door, the backyard, and the neighbor's backyard, and then he fell asleep, shower clogged by the Shrek juice.