"Inhale my vengeance!" Mr. Scoop shrieked as he sat at his computer.
Lo, there was much farting.
Farts don't go well with Malbec. Neither does atomized Febreze, no matter how tightly I clamp my hand over the top of the wine glass as Mr. Scoop darts around the room with an aerosol can like an apologetic, but spastic monkey.
Ok. Maybe not so apologetic:
"I will never apologize for my vengeance! Yea, look upon my anus and tremble. I walk the world and clear whole rooms as I do so with my mighty wind. My gas is a gift unto man. A killing gift."
"I promise I will never give you beef and cheese again in one sitting", I said. "Just, please...stop...", I croaked.
"Oh, no. There must be more beef and cheese. I will be in first class tomorrow on the way to San Diego. The ManTM must be made to know how I feel about...things..." There was more gnashing of teeth. Wailing. Stuff.
"What things", I asked.
"The 'Weekly World News' has gone out of business for one thing. Plus I think first class needs to start offering midgets for lap dances. Midgets are funny. Oh, and...I should be allowed to poke other first class passengers with a stick. At will. Especially when then are snoring while I'm trying to watch the in flight movie."
"The last in flight movie we saw was 'Titanic' - who in Christ wouldn't want to be distracted from that? And, we're not even booked to sit in first class."
"Who said we were booked to sit in first class," Mr. Scoop replied as he filled a small cooler in his carry-on with roast beef and spray cheeze. Yes. I said cheeze.
I expect I'll be blogging to you tomorrow from Git-mo.