This is a story about a couple who had been happily
married for years.
The only friction in their marriage was the husband's
habit of farting loudly every morning when he awoke.
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 because
it was making her sick. He told her he couldn't stop
it 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 Christmas 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 bed
covers, she pulled back the elastic waistband of his
underpants 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 ran into the bathroom.
The wife could hardly control herself as she rolled on
the floor laughing, tears in her eyes! After years of
torture she reckoned she had got him back pretty good.
About twenty minutes later, her husband came
downstairs in his bloodstained underpants with a look
of horror on his face. She bit her lip as she asked
him what was the matter.
He said, "Darling, you were right. All these years you
have 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, Vaseline and these two
fingers, I think I got most of them back in.
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