Chili Revenge

[radco]

Ripped :) off from the Vulcan Forum,, This is GREAT! LOL Rich

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 sh*t yourself' roadkill
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, sh*t, 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 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,
'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 none 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 store.