“And we took off-whoosh-into the night. Through the clouds, we hurtled up into the sky. And this man farted. I will never forget it as long as I live. Not only was it the worst fart, it was the longest. Maybe, it was the position he was in, he had squeezed his ass all up. But he was kinda leanin over and pointing his ass up toward me. And it made the strangest noise. It was like cloth tearing.”

“Hey, it's not like we were together for a hundred years or anything." He tapped his fingernail against his teeth and sucked in a breath. "No, wait.""If you don't knock it off I'm going to kick your ass so hard you'll fart everything you say.”

“The man with two plungers for hands never wipes his ass, but he also never clogs up a toilet either.”

“Why was he smiling? Oh crap, I had drooled on him. Or maybe farted? Please, anything but a fart!”

“I think we should break up,” I told him.“Jesus, you’re a pain in the ass,” he muttered and went back to his book.“Seriously, Vance.”“Shut up, Jules,” he said without taking his eyes from his book.”

“His undies had ridden up into the crack of his narrow ass, of which I was treated to a full view of as he turned and tried to go as quietly as possible up the stairs.”