Jack and Heather had been happily married for 45 years, except for one disgusting habit: every single morning, Jack would unleash a thunderous, room-shaking fart.
For decades, Heather would cringe and warn him, “One of these days, Jack, you’re going to fart your guts out! What are you going to do then?” Jack just laughed it off and continued his morning ritual.
On Thanksgiving morning, Heather was up extra early prepping the feast. While cleaning out the turkey, she found the bag of giblets and a devious idea struck. She snuck upstairs, quietly slipped the raw turkey innards into the back of Jack’s boxers, and went back to the kitchen.
Thirty minutes later, a blood-curdling scream echoed from the bedroom.
Giggling to herself, Heather waited a few minutes before going up to investigate. In the bathroom, she found Jack kneeling naked by the toilet, trembling with tears streaming down his face.
“What’s wrong, Jack?” she asked, desperately fighting back laughter.
Jack looked up at her in absolute horror and whimpered:
“You were right, woman! You were right! I actually farted my guts out this morning… but through sheer determination and these two fingers, I managed to stuff them all back in!”
