My grandmother was a concert pianist and in her later years, she gave piano lessons. She and my grandfather became friendly with the parents of one of her students. The father of the student had colon cancer, but they caught it early and were able to help him and the cancer was vanquished. But, every so often he had to take a stool sample in for testing.
He put his sample in a small plastic container, and put that in a paper bag. The hospital was in downtown Chicago, and he lived in the suburbs, so he took the double-decker electric train, and sat on the top decker where there is a ledge to put your briefcase, umbrella, etc. He got to the hospital, gave the nurse his paper bag and was waiting to see his doctor. The nurse came in, quite confused about his sample and asked him about it. It looked a lot like a bologna sandwich.
Somewhere in Chicago, somebody was about to open up a container of poop for lunch.
Ann