As has become our annual tradition, we asked for your Thanksgiving horror stories and did you guys deliver. There were hundreds of tales of woe, but only one that could be crowned the winner. It's really bad.

But before we can get to that, let's recognize the honorable mentions. All of these commenters received a star (if they didn't have one already). The titles are ours, but the atrocities are all theirs.

But there can only be one winner, ladies and gentlemen. This year is a story that has everything: a disapproving family, an embarrassing situation, and a literal rain of shit. The best worst story was this doozy by JustLainey.

My first Thanksgiving with the family of my soon to be husband. The house was completely full of guests and the toilets had been working overtime. No one told me that. Gorgeous formal dinner with copious toasting and rich, dreamy food. My body was a running machine in those days and I was consuming mostly healthy food leading up to this moment.

Well, 30 minutes after lunch I began to feel very uncomfortable. Very. So I snuck off to one of the guest bedrooms upstairs, which unfortunately for me was located directly above the library where everyone had gathered to "digest". After I began to feel some relief and started to feel human again, the toilet decided that I was the person and this was the moment to stop admitting new contents all together. As I flushed there was a discernible pop, gurgle and then a volcano of waste and water began to saturate the floor.

After what seemed like an eternity, I managed to turn off the water at the source and was left standing in a 2 inch lake of shit. As I stood in stunned horror there was a frantic knocking at the door. It was my mother-in-law warning me not to flush. "Too late" I managed to whisper. She scurried off and I was left sobbing in mortification. In a flash, she brought back a stack of old towels, bleach and a bucket and I got to work.

Finally, after 30 minutes of hysterical cleaning, crying and laughing, I managed to sanitize myself and the bathroom. However, to my horror as I walked down the stairs and looked into the library, I saw a bucket brigade and a frantic swarm of people up on step ladders holding towels up to a soaking, dripping roof. Yep, my shit was raining on my future family. I ran out of the house and refuse to play in the croquet tournament the next day. The marriage didn't last.

A croquet tournament? The horror! Congratulations to the winner. Email me to redeem your case of Skyy vodka so that you can ease the burden of this awful memory at least a little bit.

Thanks again to everyone for participating. If any of us have to be miserable, at least we can do it in good company.

[Image via Shutterstock]