The only friction in their marriage was the husband's habit of farting
loudly every morning when he woke. The noise would wake his wife and the
smell would make her eyes water and make her gasp for air.
Every morning she would plead with him to stop ripping them off because it
was making her sick. He told her he couldn't stop and that it was perfectly
natural. She told him to see a doctor; she was concerned that one day he
would blow his guts out.
The years went by and he continued to rip them out!
Then one Thanksgiving morning as she was preparing the turkey for dinner
and
he was upstairs sound asleep, she looked at the bowl where she had put the
turkey innards and neck, gizzard, liver and all the spare parts and a
malicious thought came to her.
She took the bowl and went upstairs where her husband was sound asleep and
gently pulling back the bedcovers she pulled back the elastic waistband of
his shorts and emptied the bowl of turkey guts into his shorts.
Some time later she heard her husband waken with his usual trumpeting which
was followed by a blood curdling scream and the sound of frantic footsteps
as he raced to the bathroom. The wife could hardly control herself as she
rolled on the floor laughing, tears in her eyes.
After all the years of torture she reckoned she had got her own back.
About twenty minutes later, her husband came downstairs in his blood
stained
shorts with a look of horror on his face. She bit her lip as she asked what
was the matter. He said "Honey, you were right. All those years you warned
me and I didn't listen to you."
"What do you mean," asked his wife.
"Well, you always told me that one day I would end up farting my guts out
and today it finally happened. But by the grace of God, some Vaseline and
these two fingers, I think I got most of them back in."
loudly every morning when he woke. The noise would wake his wife and the
smell would make her eyes water and make her gasp for air.
Every morning she would plead with him to stop ripping them off because it
was making her sick. He told her he couldn't stop and that it was perfectly
natural. She told him to see a doctor; she was concerned that one day he
would blow his guts out.
The years went by and he continued to rip them out!
Then one Thanksgiving morning as she was preparing the turkey for dinner
and
he was upstairs sound asleep, she looked at the bowl where she had put the
turkey innards and neck, gizzard, liver and all the spare parts and a
malicious thought came to her.
She took the bowl and went upstairs where her husband was sound asleep and
gently pulling back the bedcovers she pulled back the elastic waistband of
his shorts and emptied the bowl of turkey guts into his shorts.
Some time later she heard her husband waken with his usual trumpeting which
was followed by a blood curdling scream and the sound of frantic footsteps
as he raced to the bathroom. The wife could hardly control herself as she
rolled on the floor laughing, tears in her eyes.
After all the years of torture she reckoned she had got her own back.
About twenty minutes later, her husband came downstairs in his blood
stained
shorts with a look of horror on his face. She bit her lip as she asked what
was the matter. He said "Honey, you were right. All those years you warned
me and I didn't listen to you."
"What do you mean," asked his wife.
"Well, you always told me that one day I would end up farting my guts out
and today it finally happened. But by the grace of God, some Vaseline and
these two fingers, I think I got most of them back in."