BIG BOY CHILI
>
>         I went grocery shopping 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' chili. Tasty stuff,
> albeit hot to the point of being painful, which comes with a
> written guarantee from me that if you eat the next day both
> of your a$$ 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 appeared to be unable to create the
> usual morning symphony referred to by my next door neighbors
> 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 market; a
> local Wal-Mart grocery store that I often haunt in search of
> tasty tidbits.
>
>
>
>         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, 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 spice and baking aisle,
> suddenly  enveloped in anoxious 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 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, as  she walked into it
> unsuspecting. 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 woman but
> didn't. I simply 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 running, 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 then made me
> laugh. 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!', then quickly left.
>
>
>
>         Once finished I left the restroom, re-acquired 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.'
>
>
>
>         That 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 having shopped, 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
> Albertson'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.