A Chilli Story, and other potty humour

 I've been unable to find out who the author was, 

but it's an interesting read just the same.

I went grocery shopping the day after I had made and ate a massive quantity of my patented 'you're definitely going to $h!t yourself' chili. Tasty stuff, albeit hot to the point of being painful. It comes with a written guarantee from me that if you eat it, the next day both of your butt cheeks WILL burn off.

This chili experience was different. I awoke that morning, and even after two cups of coffee nothing happened. Despite habanero peppers swimming their way through my intestinal tract, I could not produce the usual morning symphony that my next door neighbors call 'thunder and lightning'.

Knowing that a time of reckoning HAD to come, yet unsure of when, I set off for the local Wal-Mart. Upon entering the store all seemed normal. I selected a cart and began pushing it about, dropping items in for purchase. It wasn't until I was at the opposite end of the store from the restrooms that the pain hit me.

Oh, don't look at me like you don't know what I'm talking about. I'm referring to that 'Uh, Oh, gotta go' pain that always seems to hit us at the wrong time.

This pain was different.

The habaneros in the chili from the night before were staging a revolt. In a mad rush for freedom they bullied their way through the small intestines, forced their way into the large intestines, and before I could take one step in the direction of the restrooms which would bring sweet relief, the peppers fired a warning shot.

There I stood, alone in the spice and baking aisle, suddenly enveloped in a noxious cloud. I was afraid to move for fear that more of this lethal vapor might escape me. Slowly -- oh so slowly -- the pressure left the lower part of my body, and I began to move up the aisle and out of it, just as an elderly woman turned into it.

I don't know what made me do it, but I stopped to see what her reaction would be to the malodorous effluvium that refused to dissipate.

Have you ever been torn in two different directions emotionally?

Here's what I mean. I could've warned that poor woman but didn't.

I watched as she walked into an invisible, and apparently indestructible, wall of odor so terrible that all she could do before gathering her senses and fleeing was to stand there blinking and waving her arms about her head as though trying to ward off angry bees. This, of course, made me feel terrible but it also made me laugh ... BIG mistake!

When you laugh, it's hard to keep things 'clamped down.' With each new guffaw an explosive issue burst forth from my hind end. Some were so loud and echoing that I was later told that shoppers in other aisles had ducked, fearing that someone was robbing the store and firing off a shotgun.

Suddenly things were no longer funny. 'It' was coming, and I raced off through the store towards the restrooms, laying down a cloud the whole way, and praying that I'd make it before the grand mal assplosion took place.

Luck was on my side.

I got to the john and began the inevitable 'Oh my God', floating above the toilet seat because my ass is burning SO BAD ... purging. One poor fellow walked in while I was in the middle of the true manifestation of 'Shock and Awe.' He made a gagging sound, disgustedly said, 'Son of a bitch!', and quickly left.

Once finished I left the restroom, reacquired my partially filled cart and made to carry on with my shopping when a store employee approached me.
He said, 'Sir, you might want to step outside for a few minutes. It appears some prankster set off a stink bomb in the store. The manager is going to run the vent fans on high for a minute or two which ought to take care of the problem.'

That of course set me to laughing again, causing residual gases to escape. The employee took one sniff, jumped back, pulled his shirt up to cover his nose and, pointing at me in an accusing manner shouted, 'IT'S YOU!'
Then he ran off.
He returned moments later with the manager.
I was unceremoniously escorted from the premises and asked none too kindly not to return.

Home again without having shopped, I realized that there was nothing to eat but leftover chili. I ate two more bowls. The next day I went to shop for provisions at Albertson's. I can't say anymore about that because we are in court over the matter.

Bastards claim they're going to have to repaint the store.