I went grocery shopping recently while not being altogether sure that course of action was a wise one. You see, the previous evening I hadprepared and consumed a massive quantity of my patented 'You're definitelygoing to $h!t yourself' chili. Tasty stuff, albeit hot to the point ofbeing painful, which comes with a written guarantee from me that if youeat it again the next day, both of your butt cheeks WILL fall off.

Here's the thing. I had awakened that morning, and even after two cups ofcoffee (and all of you know what I mean) nothing happened. No 'Watson's
Movement 2'. Despite habanera peppers swimming their way through myintestinal tract, I appeared to be unable to create the usual morningsymphony referred to by my next door neighbors as thunder and lightning.

Knowing that a time of reckoning had to come, yet not sure of just when, Ibravely set off for the market; a local Wal-Mart grocery store that I
often haunt in search of tasty tidbits.

Upon entering the store at first all seemed normal. I selected a cart andbegan pushing it about dropping items in for purchase. It wasn't until Iwas at the opposite end of the store from the restrooms that the pain hitme.

Oh, don't look at me like you don't know what I'm talking about. I'mreferring to that 'Uh oh, gotta go' pain that always seems to hit us atthe wrong time. The thing is, this pain was different.

The habaneras in the chili from the night before were staging a revolt. Ina mad rush for freedom they bullied their way through the smallintestines, forcing their way into the large intestines, and before Icould take one step in the direction of the restrooms which would bringsweet relief, it happened. The peppers fired a warning shot.

There I stood, alone in the spice and baking aisle, suddenly enveloped ina noxious cloud the likes of which has never before been recorded. I wasafraid to move for fear that more of this vile odor might escape me.Slowly, oh so slowly, the pressure seemed to leave the lower part of mybody, and I began to move up the aisle and out of it, just as an elderlywoman turned into it.

I don't know what made me do it, but I stopped to see what her reactionwould be to the malodorous effluvium that refused to dissipate, as shewalked into it unsuspecting. Have you ever been torn in two differentdirections emotionally? Here's what I mean, and I'm sure some of you atleast will be able to relate.

I could've warned that poor woman but didn't. I simply watched as shewalked into an invisible, and apparently indestructible, wall of odor soterrible that all she could do before gathering her senses and running,was to stand there blinking and waving her arms about her head as thoughtrying to ward off angry bees. This, of course, made me feel terrible, butthen made me laugh. Mistake.

Here's the thing. When you laugh, it's hard to keep things 'clamped down',if you know what I mean. With each new guffaw an explosive issue burst
forth from my nether region. Some were so loud and echoing that I waslater told a few folks in other aisles had ducked, fearing that someonewas robbing the store and firing off a shotgun.

Suddenly things were no longer funny. IT was coming, and I raced offthrough the store towards the restrooms, laying down a cloud the wholeway, praying that I'd make it before the grand mal assplosion took place.

Luck was on my side. Just in the nick of time I got to the john, began theinevitable 'Oh my God', floating above the toilet seat because my *** isburning SO BAD, purging. One poor fellow walked in while I was in themiddle of what is the true meaning o f 'Shock and Awe'. He made a gagging
sound, and disgustedly said, 'Sonofabitch!', then quickly left.

Once finished I left the restroom, reacquired my partially filled cartintending to carry on with my shopping when a store employee approached meand said, 'Sir, you might want to step outside for a few minutes. Itappears some prankster set off a stink bomb in the store. The manager isgoing to run the vent fans on high for a minute or two which ought to takecare of the problem.'

That of course set me off again, causing residual gases to escape me. Theemployee took one sniff, jumped back pulling his shirt up to cover hisnose and, pointing at me in an accusing manner shouted, 'IT'S YOU!', thenran off returning moments later with the manager. I was unceremoniously
escorted from the premises and asked none too kindly not to return.

Home again without having shopped, I realized that there was nothing toeat but leftover chili, so I consumed two more bowls. The next day I wentto shop at Publix's. I can't say anymore about that because we are incourt over the whole matter. Bastards claim they're going to have torepaint the store.