Every Fart is a Victory

The Demon of My Sleep requires me to list all the foods I've eaten in the last 24 hours. It requires this not in any spoken language, but a language of bodily shape. Namely my contorted, bloated, unconscious body, sprawled out, covers and intestines entangled into a new position for each psychotic word. I'm unsure if these hallucinations occur during REM or, as I suspect, in deep sleep, like all proper night terrors.

Thank you Mike for making your Explosive Bean Dip.

Task Coordinator for Chuck's Stomach: *Checks list* Nope, I didn't see four bites of Explosive Bean Dip.
Chuck's Esophagus: You had better check that list again, cause you're getting it - right before the turkey, ham, mashed potatoes, collared greens, cookies, chocolate, caramel pie, ham, turkey, chocolate... (This list continues for quite sometime)
Task Coordinator for Chuck's Stomach: Alright, alright, boys *he shouts to large intestine bacteria* we gotta break this stuff down fast, we got 186 more bites of food afterwards.
Johnson the Large Intestine Bacteria: Weeeee!
Task Coordinator for Chuck's Stomach: Johnson, Stop swinging from that long carbohydrate molecule and start making some methane, PRONTO!

The discomfort begins. My mind wanders to formulas of complex carbohydrate molecules expanding into various gasses rapidly.  The thought passes quickly, and only one thing is on my mind now:

Every fart is a victory.


Anonymous said…
Sorry. I must have not been present to say "NO. That's a bad Chuck! Do you want to get us shot at!?" To all the intestinal bacteria... I am sorry for my failures.

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