The Dreaded Fiber-One Bar of Doom 2


Gas Power to the Rescue

First of all, I did not plan on ruining her day, or possibly, her life. I had no intention to utterly defile another human due to my inadequacies.

It started as a typical day at work. I drove in, drinking my diet Mt. Dew for breakfast. Unfortunately, we did not have any more breakfast bars, so, on the way out, I grabbed a couple Fiber One bars thinking they would be about the same. Don’t get me wrong, they were actually quite tasty, but the 23,503% fiber per bar should have been my first clue.  I need to back up a little here.

I am a very regular guy. I don’t mean that “I’m an average Joe and I fit in everywhere.” No, not at all. By regular, I mean that I poop regularly. Scientists considered setting the atomic clock at the Smithsonian to my bowel habits, pooping precisely 2.7 times a day, everyday. These are not wimpy little micro-spurts either.  I am talking about king-sized Baby Ruth’s three times a day. Mm-mm, Baby Ruth (actually more of a Snickers man myself, but the Caddyshack pool scene keeps popping in my head).

Many people need more fiber in their diet, but I am not most people. I should probably eat more of Cap’n Brickos Mega-Constipating Cheezie flavored Hummus-Cement.  Instead, I had two fiber one bars. It took about three hours, but then I felt it. You know it. You’ve felt it. Try and deny, but we have all had The Urge at work. Oh yeah. Fortunately, my primary super power (as previously mentioned) is incredible bowel control.  So, I battled The Urge with sheer mental and sphincter fortitude. The fiber bars continued fermenting toxic colon-smog, but I kept busy with work, and despite the proctalgia fugax, I won the battle and made it out of work. Unfortunately, this is only where the nightmare began.

I walked to the parking garage. For some crazy, horrible, and semi-hilarious reason, I could not emit the seven gallons of gas in my colon while I walked outside towards the parking garage. I pressed the elevator button and got on to take it to the 4th floor (since every morning I walk down four flights but lacked the control to walk back up them). I got on the elevator. My dark nemesis The Urge returned. Fortunately, I was going UP on the elevator and there was ab-so-lutely no chance anyone else would be getting on.  Right?  Who would want to go up from a floor above the ground floor parking ramp? What were the chances?

I release.

No, that does not do it justice. I exhumed a level of atrocious Anus-Swamp Vapor that could have melted steel. It came out as a super-heated miasma more caustic than pepper spray. Even my eyes started watering a bit.  Since I created the deadly fumes, I managed enough partial immunity to stay alive, however, the sheer volume of it even surprised me. It literally filled the entire elevator with its presence. Due to its sheer size and presence, the fart nearly had it’s own consciousness as if it wanted to will itself into existence as a sentient super-villain, it was that amazingly bad. I then went up one level, suffering in my self made stink-coffin, but  was finally relieved to be rid of the monster that had been lurking in my colon for hours.

Then the unthinkable happened.

The elevator stopped at the first floor. A nice looking lady in a business suit stepped towards the elevator. In a split second I had to make a decision.  And, using all the fast paced skills of a trained ER physician, I pounced on the best decision in that millisecond.

I left the elevator.

I watched the door close.

I sat outside the elevator for a second, slightly worried that I may have just killed an innocent woman, but relieved that I did not have to ride up in an elevator and try to pretend that the whole area did not reek from the vicious disemboweled hell I had just unleashed. I then walked up the 3 flights to my car and went home.

Please, random lady in the elevator from the parking garage, if you are reading this (and if your eyes still function), you have my sincerest apologies. I meant no harm. I blame FiberOne.

 

Now go to the upper right of the screen (scroll up) and follow me on my facebook page, or I’ll follow you into an elevator…


Leave a comment

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

2 thoughts on “The Dreaded Fiber-One Bar of Doom