One fateful morning, she awakened early without the aid of Mike's anal outbursts. It was Christmas day and he had no need to get up early.
She, on the other hand, wanted to get her turkey into the oven bright and early. As she began to prepare the bird, she realised that this was the happiest she'd been in a long time. The thought of being out of range when his normally unavoidable release of bowel-pressure hit, filled her with delight. As she began to remove the giblets from what would later become dinner, an idea hit her. It was such an inspired thought, that she stopped in mid-evisceration of the turkey and grinned as she turned the idea over in her head, examining it from every angle, not unlike a connoisseur savoring a fine red wine at room temperature.
This was just too wonderful to pass up.
Still grinning from ear-to-ear, she crept back into the bedroom with the turkey's internal organs in hand. He was sleeping soundly in his usual post-drunken facedown position and she had no trouble carefully sliding a heaped handful of warm poultry-guts into his pyjamas
Back in the kitchen, she went about her food-preparation, eagerly awaiting his reaction to her little joke. She felt like a young child on Christmas morning, scarcely able to control her eagerness for what was soon to come.
After what seemed like hours - it happened.
This morning's blast was no disappointment. The previous evening's 4 bowls of chili, heaped high with cheese and onions accompanied by his usual several beers, caused his sickening emissions to spring forth with the power of an explosion. The windows rattled. A book fell off the shelf. Surely this must have disturbed the neighbours. It had such power that even though she was in the kitchen, her nose was soon assaulted by the conceivably lethal vapors
Meanwhile - upstairs......
He breathed a great sigh of relief and yawning, rolled onto his back. He distinctly felt a wet and stringy presence beneath him. His eyes snapped open. The shriek of terror that he unleashed was even more violent than the noise he had let out just moments before.
Forcing her smirk into a look of concern, she rushed to the bedroom. The bed was empty but the room was full of the rancid stench that could weaken the knees of even the most seasoned waste-disposal engineer. She whirled around, wondering where he'd gone.
She found him in the bathroom. He was standing in front of the mirror, his face a shade whiter than linen. He was shaking slightly, and huge beads of sweat rolled down his face.
"Is there something wrong, honey?", she cooed, trying to mask her pleasure at how well this was working.
In a trembling voice, he whimpered, "Holy shit, Holy shit, You were right. All those times you said it would happen and today it finally did. I woke up to find I had farted my guts clean out.
But by the grace of God, these two hands, and with some difficulty and pain, I have managed to stuff them back in again”
THE END
AT LEAST WE GOT TO THE BOTTOM OF THINGS
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