Every single morning—without exception—the husband would let out an enormous fart the moment he got out of bed, then burst into uncontrollable laughter. And every single morning, his wife would scold him and say,
“One of these days, you’re going to fart your guts out.”
Thanksgiving morning rolls around. The old man is still asleep while his wife is downstairs getting the turkey ready. As she’s holding a handful of warm turkey innards, a mischievous idea hits her.
She quietly creeps upstairs, slips into the bedroom, gently pulls back the waistband of her husband’s underwear, and carefully stuffs the turkey guts inside. Then she sneaks away.
About an hour later, she hears him wake up. His feet hit the floor. Then comes the usual fart… followed by laughter.
Suddenly, the laughter stops.
A scream follows.
Then—ten long minutes of complete silence.
Finally, the old man comes downstairs, pale as a ghost, and says,
“Honey, I owe you an apology. For years, you kept telling me I was going to fart my guts out. Well, today it finally happened. But by the grace of God—and these two fingers,” he says, holding up his dirty index and middle fingers, “I managed to shove them all back in, and I think I’m gonna be okay.”
Leave a Reply