Ninja Stink
The can food section went on forever. Or at least it seemed that way. Cheryl stopping every third can down the line checking the brand name against her twenty cent off coupon. I mean is it really worth this much time? Two dimes….give me a break! Finally past the green beans, three more steps, and-
“Oh, look cream corn; I’ve got a buy one get one free for this!”
Cream corn, are you kidding me. Its predigested corn kernels. I can chew my damn corn. I just want to go home. The sound comes from behind, the cart’s wheel spins around and around as it emits the squeak of insanity. There must be some way to escape this hell.
I feel this afternoon’s lunch swimming in my belly. It awakens with a low growl. I clench as tight as I can but to no avail. Slowly, yet silently the vapor is released from my clapping cheeks. I look to the left at the woman coming towards my wife and , then to Cheryl; neither have detected the toxic fumes. With the grace of a feline I whisk around the corner without being noticed. I poke my head down the isle as the woman passes to watch the unfolding drama.
Cheryl looks up from her coupon pouch and sniffs the air. The woman behind her puts down her can of asparagus and looks my wife in the face. They give each other a polite smile. Then the woman looks away and scowls then rushes away. Cheryl just stands bewildered.
I walk back to the cart where my wife has resumed her hunt for bargains.
“Hey, babe- oh, God, What’s that smell?”
“Some woman just farted and ran off down that way,” she said.
“That’s disgusting.”
“Tell me about it. Oh, look dill pickles are half off.”
I smile and follow her to the pickle shelf. I am a ninja.
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