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Anonymous Coward
User ID: 304314
United States
05/19/2009 06:29 PM
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I went to the Home Depot recently while not being altogether sure that course of
action was a wise one. You see, the previous evening I had prepared and consumed a
massive quantity of my patented 'you're definitely going to shit yourself' road kill
chili. Tasty stuff, albeit hot to the point of being painful, which comes with a
written guarantee from me that if you eat it, the next day both of your butt cheeks
WILL fall off.

Here's the thing. I had awakened that morning, and even after two cups of coffee
(and all of you know what I mean) nothing happened. No 'Watson's Movement 2'.
Despite habanera peppers swimming their way through my intestinal tract, I was
unable to create the usual morning symphony referred to by my dear wife as 'thunder
and lightning'.

Knowing that a time of reckoning HAD to come, yet not sure of just when, I bravely
set off for the Depot, my quest being paint and supplies to refinish the den.

Upon entering the store at first 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, Shit, gotta go' pain that always seems to hit us at the wrong time.
The thing is, this pain was different. The habaneras 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,
forcing their way into the large intestines, and before I could take one step in the
direction of the restrooms which would bring sweet relief, it happened. The peppers
fired a warning shot.

There I stood, alone in the paint and stain section, suddenly enveloped in a noxious
cloud the likes of which has never before been recorded. I was afraid to move for
fear that more of this vile odor might escape me.

Slowly, oh so slowly, the pressure seemed to leave the lower part of my body, and I
began to move up the aisle and out of it, just as a red aproned clerk turned the
corner and asked if I needed any help.

I don't know what made me do it, but I stopped to see what his 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,
and I'm sure some of you at least will be able to relate.

I could've warned that poor clerk, but didn't. I simply watched as he walked into an
invisible, and apparently indestructible, wall of odor so terrible that all he could
do before gathering his senses and running, was to stand there blinking and waving
his arms about his head as though trying to ward off angry bees. This, of course,
made me feel terrible, but then made me laugh.. ........BIG mistake!!!!!

Here's the thing. When you laugh, it's hard to keep things 'clamped down', if you
know what I mean. With each new guffaw an explosive issue burst forth from my
neither region. Some were so loud and echoing that I was later told a few folks in
other aisles had ducked, fearing that someone was robbing the store and firing off a

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, praying that I'd
make it before the grand mal assplosion took place.

Luck was on my side. Just in the nick of time I got to the john, 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 what is the
true meaning of 'Shock and Awe'. He made a gagging sound, and disgustedly said,
'Sonofabitch, did it smell that bad when you ate it?', then quickly left.

Once finished and I left the restroom, reacquired my partially filled cart intending
to carry on with my shopping when a store employee approached me and 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.'

My smirking of course set me off again, causing residual gases to escape me. The
employee took one sniff, jumped back pulling his shirt up to cover his nose and,
pointing at me in an accusing manner shouted, 'IT'S YOU!', then ran off returning
moments later with the manager.

I was unceremoniously escorted from the premises and asked not too kindly not to
return. Home again without my supplies, I realized that there was nothing to eat
but leftover chili, so I consumed two more bowls.

The next day I went to shop at Lowe's. I can't say anymore about that because we are
in court over the whole matter. Bastards claim they're going to have to repaint the
Anonymous Coward
User ID: 516671
United States
05/19/2009 06:49 PM
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Bravo! You've past English Composition. Your Pulitzer Prize awaits... P. S. Eat something else before the award ceremony..
Anonymous Coward
User ID: 682683
05/19/2009 06:56 PM
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