Sunday, 17 April 2011

the hunt

Jimmy walked down the narrowed street with buds in his ears feeling like the newest kid on the block. A wave of flatulence came over him. Those around Jimmy noticed that he had no regard for public decency when he was listening to his hip hop raps. He must have been of the mindset that if he can't hear it, noone can. The other mindset he could have been of was the kind of mindset that risky people take. It was the mindset that maybe, just maybe, the gust of gas would come out silently and they'd all be none the wiser. That was a risk Jimmy was willing to take.

And so he continued down the street, boppin' to the beat, leaving a scented trail. Risky Business 101: Never leave a trail. Unfortunately, Jimmy was tardy that day. A pretty risky move if you ask me.

Just then a hooded hooligan stumbled upon Jimmy's scent. Priding himself upon being a man of adventure, he followed it obviously. And obviously he did.

Jimmy walked into Superfresh grocery store, picked up a lime, squeezed out a gust (silent or audible? Jimmy will never know), and walked right out. But something was wrong and Jimmy knew it. He did a summersault to be sure. Yep

"I'm being followed".

And that, Jimmy knew for certain. He refused to let it waver his stride...even though the thought of being tracked by his flatulence sent a shiver down his naturally crooked spine that almost made it straight again.

So the hooded hooligan followed the trail right into Superfresh. Jimmy had most definitely been here. How did he know? Things didn't smell so fresh these days. He circled the store. It appeared the rest of it's patrons had caught the same drift; they were nowhere to be seen. He stepped out of the market. It was now apparent that the trail had stopped. You see, what the hooligan didn't realise was that Jimmy could control his vapors with the best of them. All that was left was a note:

"Flatu-later"

1 comment:

  1. ohhhh, it's good. that's good... it's exquisite.

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