A game played by myself and Greg Sullivan at primary school. The premise of the game was that we ran a hotel built entirely out of poo. (Imaginary) guests would come and stay, and we would try and ensure that they never realised the true nature of the hotel. It wasn't just the walls etc that were excretal in origin, however - hilariously, the menu was mainly made up of such delicacies as "burnt sausages" and "lemonade". We also offered a fine range of after dinner cigars.
In retrospect, it's hard to escape the suspicion that the entire game was a a flimsy bolt-on to a rather poor pun - but it still kept us out of trouble. Readers may also be interested to know that as a mature(-ish) adult I harbour no cloacal tendancies and that this was obviously "just a phase".