This is a story about a couple who had been happily married
for years. The only friction¹ 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 gasp² 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
it and that it was perfectly³ natural. She told him to see a doctor;
she was concerned that one day he would blow his guts⁴ 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 malicious⁵ 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 elastic⁶ 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
trumpeting⁷ which was followed by a blood curdling⁸ scream and
the sound of frantic⁹ 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,
"Honey, 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, some
Vaseline, and these two fingers, I think I got most of them back in."

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