By Mike Wenner © 2007
"We're going into the city for drinks and dinner with the college crew. C'mon, and get ready, it's going to be fun," she said excitedly.
"Yeah, sounds great," said John in a sarcastic tone. John was tired after a rough week and the most un-ideal end to 2006.
In the last week of the year, he managed to lose half of the information saved to his computer, lost his most valuable customer, and, well, cut himself shaving. Sure, the last one isn't that big of a deal, but who likes to roll into the holiday parties with a shaving accident. The pictures will be great!
On the way into the city, John's stomach was feeling queasy. He wasn't nervous, since he was meeting up with old friends. He wasn't starving since he just ate some pretzels. And he hasn't worked out in years, so it couldn't have been from sit-ups. Ignoring the feeling, John and his wife arrived at the Greek BYOB restaurant and the fun began.
The wine was flowing, both red and white, the hummus and pita was spread out on the table, olives all around, souvlaki was coming, those green leaf roll things were in abundance, and smiles were on everyone's faces. Hugs and kisses, hand-shakes and ass grabbing – it was the holidays! Everyone sat down at the table and kept on gabbing.
"I hear that so and so is fucking so and so," you could hear from one end.
"I heard that he's gay and hasn't come out yet," could be heard from the middle of the table.
"Hey, see any good music lately," is what was being said on my end.
All in all, good times catching up.
Somewhere in the middle of dinner, John's queasy feeling subsided when he let out a huge fart. He felt it coming and tried to contain himself as best he could so not to embarrass himself since a loud fart at the wrong time isn't always funny. But as you know, a loud fart in certain circumstances can be downright hysterical. Anyway, as John released this huge fart, he was able to keep it silent, but something didn't feel right. He wasn't sure and didn't make a fuss about it and kept on acting like nothing happened.
As everyone was getting up from the table and saying goodbye, someone said to John that he must have sat in something because his, "butt was wet."
"My butt's wet?" John questioned.
Embarrassed since he knew what happened, John scurried to the restaurant's bathroom, pulled down his pants, and noticed a big wet spot in his boxers. A wet spot - no shit, just a wet spot.
"Musta been one of them wet farts," he thought to himself. Really wet farts. Frantically, John tried to dry his boxers and pants. Unfortunately, the damage was done and he just had to pretend he sat in water or something.
John and his wife decided to head back to their friends' house to have a night-cap. When John got to the house, his friend immediately asked him how many fingers he wanted.
"How many fingers?" John asked.
"Yeah, I'm pouring a single malt. How many fingers? Two or three," he said.
"Two, I guess," said John as he rushed off to the bathroom. John closed and locked the door, fumbled with his pants, lifted up the toilet seat and BAM! An ASSPLOSION!
John's ass ripped the biggest dump of his life! It was everything you don't want at someone else's home. This was the type of dump that should only happen in your bathroom. Absolutely disgusting. Nervous that his wife and friends would hear him, his stomach began to get queasy again. Oh no, he thought, and his ass ripped another big one. He unleashed so much crap his body had to be empty.
"What brought this on?" he thought to himself. Stress? Food? He didn't know.
John finished his business and flushed.
But wait, it didn't flush.
IT DIDN'T FLUSH!
John became frantic. The bowl didn't overflow, the popa was gone, and the water was clean. But he didn't hear that final gurgle that a toilet makes when it's finished swallowing down your junk. John decided it wasn't good enough for him and flushed again. Not only did it not flush again, but this time it overflowed on the linoleum floor. Out of his skin, John got as much toilet paper as possible to sop up the water. He had gone through an entire roll when his ordeal was completed. He tossed the wet paper in the waste basket and decided to rejoin his friends.
He figured he wouldn't tell anybody about the incident and try to enjoy his single malt scotch. He took a hefty slug, sat back letting out a huge sigh of relief, and took off his shoes. Ahh...
A friend of John's wife then decided that she had to "pee." John suggested that she didn't go in the same toilet since he had just been doing his own business in there and it didn't smell pretty.
"I live with this one," pointing to his buddy Steve, "this can't be as bad as him," she said with a laugh.
When she was done, she flushed the toilet and then yelped, similar to a dog. "It's going to overflow," she yelled.
"OH MY GOD! STEVE! STEVE! STEVE!"
As Steve ran to the door, I stood up since I knew what was about to happen.
"Steve, get some towels," she yelled. As Steve ran off to the garage to get some towels, his wife looked at John and didn't say a word. She didn't have to – John's wife took care of it.
Mike Wenner is a non-Amish cool guy from Lancaster, PA.
April 08, 2007
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