I was beginning to inflate. Getting bigger and bigger ever since I began the list, a very long list, of people whose necks I would like to wring. It filled three foolscap pages. I have a very long memory. My fury knew no bounds. All that hate had been building up. Now it had to go somewhere.
My shirt buttons popped and the belt on my trousers flew off as if on a spring.
My singlet and underpants tore down the centre. I was butt naked.
In my birthday suit!
Then before I was about to pop, a funny thing happened. I began to fart. Not small whiny ones but big ones like summer thunder.
And a funnier thing happened. Each time I let it rip the gas formed the outline of one of my enemies: Greg, Tony, Jason, the dude who side-swiped me at the intersection, the cop who issued me the fine …..
They were anthropomorphic farts. And they stank. And they went on all afternoon.
But the good thing was my dimensions shrank, a little more with each fart. It was very satisfying. I’m glad they stopped when they did else there’d be nothing left of me. I felt so good though, once the breeze had swept away the foul smell, I tore up the list and compiled another. Of people I liked. It was very short.
John Malone 