Don’t Fault Me For My Flatulence
A young woman and her boyfriend have just recently gotten engaged. This evening the couple has been invited to her fiancée’s parents’ house for dinner. This is the woman’s first time meeting her future in-laws, and she is understandably nervous.At the dinner table, the woman is about halfway through her eggplant parmesan when she is suddenly overcome with a painful bloating sensation. She’s not sure if it’s the vegetables or the cheese to blame, but she is very aware of the haunting realization that if she makes a move for the toilet, she’ll surely shit herself.
Unsure of how to proceed, the woman puts down her fork and takes a little stretch break. She notices her future hubby immersed in a conversation with his parents about a new work promotion, and seizes the opportunity. She shifts her weight back in her chair, uncrosses her legs, and tries to slip out a small pocket of air to relieve some of the pressure on her inflated intestines. Unfortunately, her attempt at a silent fart does not go over so well, and when she recovers from the vibrations she realizes all conversation has ceased and that everyone is staring in her direction.
“Ralph!” The father shouts. “Come here.” She hears a defeated whimper from beneath her chair and looks down to see a small puppy with a red collar sporting the name “Ralph.” The dog doesn’t move. She breathes a sigh of relief and goes back to work on her eggplant parm.
A few bites later and she feels a rumbling in her bowels. She faintly lifts a thigh and tries to sneak another one by. Her fart is monstrous.
“God Dammit Ralph!”
The dog takes a puzzled look around the room and decides to stay put. The woman chuckles to herself and takes a second helping of food. As she cleans her plate that familiar feeling returns to her rectum. Feeling pretty confident, she leans forward and lets another one rip.
“For Christ’s sake Ralph, get out from there before she shits on you!”
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