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my finest hour

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a horror story of a different type. again. reprinted with kind permission from my bad self. criticism and trolling welcomed.


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a while back I was starting a new job, so when i felt the tell-tale signs of being visited by a most heinous scent from my nether region, i couldn't help but feel quite apprehensive about how to proceed. i had long ago established a reputation for provoking reactions tantamount to a response to a personal attack. my vision of enlightening any occasion with such vapors was not often shared. sensing that my immediate supervisor was far enough away for me to be safe, i let loose so to speak.

approximately 30 seconds later I saw her going to the phone in my peripheral vision. she was making a call to the maintenance man to come check something out. i paid this no mind and was feeling rather safe and confident by this point, so i began to fill the air. i produced my most prodigious offering (silent, yet quite potent) when i nearly jumped out of my skin as I heard a voice directly behind me. "can you smell that?" she asked the maintenance man. "yeah, something is not right.", he said.

i couldn't help but turn around, in fear they were both staring at me and fully aware of what the true bedevilment was. they weren't (thank god) but both had faces of dire concern. having long been a practitioner of the arts of evasion when it came to such matters (i had once convinced an entire church pew the pungent stench that could only beg the question "who farted?", was eminating from the elderly woman just in front of us.) i pretended to not even notice anything was out of the ordinary. i was able to abstain for just a couple more minutes. i tried to wait until my break time but it was not to be. The intensity of the great and terrible wind brought tears to my eyes and left me havoc struck. I was then worried about my ability to withstand it's presence. it was truly just too much.

break time. i did a speed walk for the exit. i had to make haste, a male co-worker was bazooka-barfing into a trash can and a female co-worker wqs crying inconsolably. before I could make a clean break, i passed two maintenance men. they were both looking at a hole on the ceiling with a flashlight. bug-eyed as though staring into some harrowing abyss one stated to the other, "i don't know what's up there but i think it's dead. i can't imagine any living creature being responsible for that."