I remember at my shrink's office back in 1979, in an old Victorian mansion in downtown Tacoma [WA], there were these flights of stairs made for little dinky-feeted people who lived back in those days [late 1800s], and my big clodhoppers were hopelessly outmatched, so the first step I took in descent, my heel which didn't have enough landing for a secure grip, slipped out from under me and I fell hard upon my tuchas and bounced on it each step down the stairs, am guessing perhaps 20 steps, OUCH! each step of the way, I musta made quite a racket because when I reached the bottom, a door opened and 3 heads stuck themselves out and stared at me like I was an alien or something, shrugged, then ducked back behind the closing door.
at work one day, I was full of gas, and try as I might, I couldn't keep it in so eventually one barked out loudly, at which point I stomped on the floor and exclaimed, "dowgy! where'd that duck go?!"