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The Wife’s Revenge


Seeing as how we’re in hunting season, I thought I’d follow up with another of my favorite tales about this time of year.

There’s something both amusing and disgusting about the common habit of passing gas. This seems to be inherently more of a guy thing – I don’t know if they simply lack the etiquette required to be discreet or if they’re just more full of the commodity that makes the gas. Many a marriage has been stressed by the indiscreet expelling of noxious fumes, and recently a friend told me a funny story of how a hunter’s wife dealt with the problem. I just have to pass it on…

Apparently there was this couple who had been happily married for years. The only friction in their marriage was the husband’s habit of passing gas loudly every morning when he awoke. The noise would wake his wife, and the smell would make her eyes water and have her gasping for air. Every morning she would plead with him to stop “ripping them off,” and each morning he would tell her he couldn’t stop it and that it was perfectly natural. She told him to see a doctor, saying she was concerned that one day he would blow his guts out.

The husband was a hunter, and one day he returned home with a large tom turkey. Normally, he would have done the initial dressing, but he was exhausted from the early hunt and asked his wife to start on it for him.

As she was preparing the turkey, she looked at the innards, gizzard, liver, etc. and smiled maliciously.

She placed all the innards in a bowl and took it upstairs where her husband was sound asleep. Gently pulling off the bed covers, she pulled back the elastic waistband of her husband’s underpants and emptied the bowl of turkey guts into his shorts.

Some time later, she heard her husband waken with his usual trumpeting, which was followed by a blood curdling scream and the sound of frantic foot steps as he ran into the bath room. A few minutes later her husband stumbled downstairs in his bloodstained underpants with a look of horror on his face. “Honey, you were right, “ he whispered breathlessly. All these years you warned me and I didn’t listen…”

“What do you mean?” asked his wife innocently.

“Well, you always told me that one day I would end up pooping my guts
out, and today it finally happened. But by the grace of God and half a jar of Vaseline, I think I got most of them back in.”