That's the funniest thing I've ever read on this site.
I've got a couple more but they all pale in comparison to that story. Oddly two incidents happened to me the next year in grade 10 gym class, and another two were incidents that happened to a couple other fellers in that same gym class.
my best fart story happened a few years ago when I was getting serious with my gf at the time. We were at that stage where we had just started sharing a bed, and were contemplating moving in together, and she liked to sleep very close to me, or 'spoon' sometimes. Well this one particular night it was hotter than the hubs of hell, and she insisted on spooning, which made the unbearable heat even worse. I asked her to leave me alone a few times, asking very sweetly, telling her how normally I love being that close, but that being that it was so hot could she just not do it for that night. She thought I was just being 'cute' or whatever, and would just giggle and snuggle closer. All of a sudden I feel this pressure building inside, which gave me a wicked idea. I said "if you don't back off a bit I'm going to fart on you." Again she thought I was being cute, and told me to "go ahead" while simultaneously hugging me as tight as she could. So I let the pressure build a bit more, then forced it out with every ounce of strength I could muster. It came out with a kind of *WHOMP* sound, like a concussion charge. She screamed and jumped up as fast as she could, while yelling "I FELT IT ON MY LEG!!! FRIGGIN' GROSS!!!" My response was to roll over facing away from her and say "told you", yawn loudly, and settle in for a nice sleep.
Are you sure you didn't fart because she was trying to emasculate you by being the 'spooner' instead of the 'spoonee'?
When I was a manager at Canadian Tire, I was eating as badly as possible due to long hours and laziness and I had truly rancid gas...ALL the time. I had a good buddy who worked in the warehouse there who often felt the brunt of it all. I would be at one end of the warehouse (picture the length of the Big Box CT stores) and he would call me from the lunch room on the other side of the building to tell me he was meeting me in the back. I would drop a bomb and wait. A minute or so passes and I see him come through the doors to the warehouse waaaay at the other end. To watch his face slowly discover, comprehend, and react to a fart launched about a football field away...it was art. It was as though he ran into a wall, and he would do a 180 instantly and speedwalk back the way he came, cursing my name
I did this a lot in the warehouse. Not planting them, just releasing as it was a quick escape. Well, word was getting around and people spoke of the smells, but I was never busted. I became somewhat of a silent legend, almost an urban myth.
But even a legend has to rise above the norm to earn true status. My time came in the cash room. It was my new escape. I was one of only 4 or 5 who had keys to it, it was only used at set times in the day, and it was close to my department. My new fortress of solitude. Well, it didn't last long. After first christening this 8'x8' room with a brew so vile, I could hardly take it myself, I quickly escaped and shut the door; the perfect crime. Well, 4 hours later, the next cashier came out and complained of a horrible odor. Then the next cashier, and the next. There were descriptions of "rotten meat" and certainties of "corpses in the ceiling". I guess it smelled so bad for so long that the GM actually got a ladder and lifted the ceiling tiles to investigate.
Part of me felt bad for subjecting innocents to that, but the bigger part was holding back snickers that made me snort all day whenever someone mentioned it. Especially when this snooty Welsh chick walked out, complaining. My warehouse buddy, after hearing a few stories, immediately confronted me as the culprit. If I could have kept a straight face, maybe I could have denied it.
This one time, in grade 9 math class... it was one of the most humiliating experiences of my grade school life. The class was silent. I think we were working on problems from the book. Well, I was working on my own problems. I had a fart that I was getting ready to slowly release, but I also had to sneeze. Uh-oh. Can I silently get the fart out before I sneeze? Can I hold the sneeze back a few more seconds?
Oh no! A-a-... hold that sneeze... a-a-... too late, hold that fart! a-a-chooRRRRRRRRRIIIIIIPPP!
I sneezed, and the fart followed with the most force that I ever used to push out a fart. Of course I was trying to hold the fart back. The loudest fart you have ever heard eminated through the classroom out through the hallways and could be heard in nearby classrooms. Then there was a moment of silence before laughter erupted equally as loud as my fart. Everybody was laughing. Even the teacher. A teacher from the next classroom came to our class, laughing, checking to make sure everybody was ok (and probably to find out who she was laughing at).
Of course you could tell right away who let it out because my face was redder than a Flames jersey and I was the only one not laughing. There were people walking by in the hallway at that moment too, and they were laughing. All I could say was "I.. I... I sneezed." Yeah sure, some sneeze buddy.
It took me a while to live that one down. Thankfully there was only a month or two left of school and we would be going to a new school the next year, but the next few weeks were hellish.
