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The Hope and the Horror
Breaking the Silence
A funny thing happened when my wife and I were in the gem section of the Smithsonian's National Museum of Natural History.
We were by the Hope Diamond — amidst a large crowd gathered around, necks craned, trying to get a glimpse of the cursed rock. Suddenly — like a loud clap of thunder — I hear a magnificent fart. This explosion, I quickly determined, came from my wife! I looked at her, my eyes wide and mouth agape, unsure how to respond to this unexpected turn of events. With a similar expression, she returned my stare; her hand covering her mouth in horror.
I then observed the masses of onlookers, which were now unfortunate ear witnesses, glance uncomfortably at my wife. The time seemed to slow down, as often is the case during episodes of tragedy and turmoil.
Run Like the Wind
I finally spoke. "What the fuck?", I said in my lowest voice possible. Not that the "F" word would be any more disturbing to the crowd than the atomic bomb from my wife's ass, but I felt poise and prudence were necessary in such a place as the Smithsonian.
The words barely passed my lips when she exploded in uncontrollable laughter. The contagion of laughter infected me and we quickly fled the scene like fugitives. We both laughed until our stomachs ached and tears streamed from our eyes. We sat down on a bench trying to get control of ourselves while people passed by us staring in confusion.
A Bloody End
But this story goes on still.
As we sat on the bench doubled over in laughter, people staring at us like we were high, her nose started to bleed uncontrollably. This further convinced the onlookers that we were under the influence of some dastardly substance. Blood flowed from her nose steadily. I ran to the bathroom, still laughing, and got some tissue for my hemorrhaging wife.
After about 5 minutes of trying to control it, the bleeding finally ceased. We rose from the bench to continue our tourist activities, breaking out in intermittent laughter when the memory hit us.