I Made Some Chili

[Truckrat]

I went to Bunnings 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 s**t yourself' road-kill chilli. 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 Bunnings, 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 chilli 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 nether 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 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, 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, 'Son-of-a-bitch!, 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 none too kindly not to
return.

Home again without my supplies, I realized that there was
nothing to eat but leftover chilli, so I consumed two more bowls. The next
day I went to shop at Lowes. 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 store.

[fmartin_gila]

You didn't by chance share some of that with Doc's Dog did you?

Fred