A couple has been happily married for years. The only
friction in their marriage was the husband’s habit of
farting loudly every morning when he awoke. The noise
would wake his wife and the smell would make her eyes
water and make her gasp for air. Every morning she would
plead with him to stop ripping them off because it was
making her sick. He told he he couldn’t stop it and that
it was perfectly natural. She told him to see a doctor;
she was concerned that one day he would blow his guts out.
The years went by, and he continued to rip them out. Then
one thanksgiving morning, she was preparing the turkey for
dinner and he was upstairs sound asleep. She looked at the
bowl where she had put the turkey innards and neck, gizzard,
liver and all the spare parts, and a malicious thought came
to her. She took the bowl and went upstairs where her husband
was sound asleep, and gently, pulling back the bed covers, she
pulled back the elastic waistband of his underpants and emptied
the bowl of turkey guts into his shorts. Some time later she
heard her husband waken with his usual trumpeting which was
followed by a blood curdling scream and the sound of frantic
footsteps as he ran into the bathroom. The wife could hardly
control herself as she rolled on the floor laughing, tears in
her eyes! After years of torture she got him back pretty good.
About twenty minutes later her husband came downstairs in his
blood stained underpants with a look of horror on his face.
She bit her lip as she asked him what was the matter. He said,
“Honey, you were right. All these years you have warned me and I
didn’t listen to you. “What do you mean?” asked the wife. “Well,
you always told me that one day I would end up farting my guts
out, and today it finally happened. But by the grace of God,
some Vaseline, and these two fingers, I think I got most of
them back in!”