The Poot Pillow

My nephew received a whoopie cushion in his stocking this year. I believe he called it a poot pillow. Anyway, it made Mr. Bitchford think of this time that I farted in K-Mart, and he couldn't stop laughing. It was pretty fucking funny, so I thought I would share with you all. First of all, no one goes to K-Mart in Eastwick. They all go to Wal-Mart, which is why I was at the K-Mart in the first place. I was in the face wash aisle, and Mr. Bitchford was two aisles over. There was no one around, and I had bent down to examine the Oil of Olay line of beauty products. I let a giant, loud, and stinky fart rip. As I looked up, there was a horrified woman staring at me from the end of the aisle. I hadn't seen her before. I did what any sane person would do in this situation. I looked at her and said, "Ewww. You're gross." I turned around, and Mr. Bitchford was at the other end of the aisle. He was doubled over with laughter. I walked towards him and whispered, "Just fucking walk away...fast." So, I left that poor soul on the beauty aisle, and she had to lay claim to my rank ass fart. Sorry.