Home Forums Hunting & Shooting Hunter's Campfire Who Farted?

Kind of a long story, but worth the read.

Okay, to be fair here, it wasn't technically me, it was my brother. Also this was years ago. However, this remains one of the most incredible mess-ups I have ever personally witnessed and I figured you guys might get a kick out of it.
To set the stage a bit: We're in Rhode Island in the 90s, and myself and my two younger brothers are the children of the children of Italian immigrants. We are descended from the kind of Stoic Catholicism you read about. Church is a solemn, Gothic affair with a lot of silence in between the call and response that makes up a normal Sunday service. Church is a Big Deal™ to my parents at the time, and you are not to mess around during it.
Knowing that, I have to wonder what got into my folks' heads when we went out to breakfast prior to Church and wound up at this small eatery in Wakefield called the Bluebird Cafe.
Going out for breakfast pre-church was rare, but for some reason the decision was made to have breakfast as a family and eschew our normal 9AM service for the one at 11AM instead. On top of that, this place has really good food, but it's also very heavy depending on what you order. The portions are also gargantuan, which our server warned us about when all three of us boys tried to individually order huevos rancheros, but we protested that we were totally old enough to eat an entire plate of this ourselves (bearing in mind I was thirteen, middle son was eleven, youngest was nine). Our parents acquiesced and we all got our individual plates of food.
The huevos rancheros at this place isn't, like, a tortilla with an egg on it, mind you. Oh no. It is a giant dinner-plate-sized flour patty with about three pounds of black beans on it, plus onions, a huge helping of grits, something like four eggs, an alarming amount of melted cheese, and copious hot sauce. One plate is enough to comfortably feed an average human for a day and a half.
I couldn't finish mine. Believe me I tried. Youngest son didn't even get halfway through.
Middle son ate the entire thing in about 45 seconds. He hoovered it up like it was going to get up and run away from him after a couple minutes. I'm sure, somewhere in the back of their heads, my parents could sense the brewing storm, but they said nothing at this point.
They did say something about an hour later as we were driving to church and my brother nonchalantly coughed a few times and then trumpet-blasted out an ungodly long fart in the back seat of the car. It had to have lifted him a foot in the air. I'm pretty sure his seatbelt locked because of it. It sounded like a dying goose put through a megaphone and ended with a pretty bad gurgling noise. He may well have [bleep] his pants at this point.
Naturally myself and the youngest brother instantly lose our minds and are howling with laughter while my increasingly-pissed dad is trying to find a parking spot. By that point the smell had ballooned into the entire cabin of the car and my mom was making gagging noises and frantically trying to get all the windows rolled down while the middle kid sat there grinning like an idiot and the other two of us were gasping for air because of fart smell/uncontrollable laughter. It smelled like a carcass in there for days afterwards. It was bad.
So we finally find a parking spot and my poor dad is trying to get us to take this whole church thing semi-seriously and all three of us have the worst case of the giggles we've had in years. He scolds my brother to not "be disgusting" in church or he's going to be "really angry" and it's "not funny" and finally he just gives up because this is falling on obviously deaf ears for the most part, so he just kind of grabs us all and collectively frog-marches us inside.
Okay so Catholics/Church goers out there: You guys all know that bit in the Lord's Prayer where it goes "the Kingdom and the Power and the Glory, forever and ever" and the entire congregation goes "Amen"?
So my brother needed to fart again. He'd been holding this in for the better part of an hour long service at this point, and clearly by about the 45-minute mark he'd come to the realization that I need to fart had become I'm going to fart. He was cognizant of my dad's dire warning to not do this, so in his head he concocted the brilliant plan to time his fart for the "Amen" part, hoping the sound of an entire packed room of people chanting a single syllable would be enough to mask the sound, if maybe not the smell.
So he went for it.
Problem is, he mistimed it by about a second and a half.
It wound up going like this:
Father: "For thine is the kingdom and the power and the glory, forever and ever." Everyone: "Amen"
beat of absolute, total silence
Ear-splitting, subwoofer-grade, bucket-of-chum-being-emptied-into-the-ocean five second long fart blast which echoed off the walls in the pindrop-silent room.
It was bad, you guys. It was bad. The smell hit an old lady behind us a few seconds later and she actually gave a sort of panicked grunt and clutched at her face, so there was this horrid fart sound then this poor old lady going "uuuggggh!" and reeling backwards into the pew as the smell of rotting kid fart assaulted her and everyone around her.
My brother is trying to pinch it off pretty desperately, which just makes it worse because it goes from this massive boom to sort of squeaking out like a duck before he finally manages to clench enough to keep it in.
As this is going on, picture three young boys all standing there 100% straight up with looks of absolute neutrality on their faces, because that was us trying unbelievably hard not to totally lose our [bleep] and laugh for the next six straight hours uncontrollably. While we were doing an admirable job of this, all our faces were beet red.
Worse, because my brother had pinched off a bit of fart, he was concentrating so hard on not launching into riotous laughter that his concentration would slip and a little squeak of a fart would slip out. This went on for the next thirty seconds or so, interrupting our poor priest as he tried to continue the sermon.
Every time he tried to finish a sentence you'd hear this little frrt and then a sort of quiet hrrnnng as we tried so, so hard not to laugh. All the while the swamp stench of digested egg was drifting around our pew, and entire families were trying to discretely shuffle away from us.
To my dad's credit, he didn't go ballistic on us when it was over. He just looked disappointed/relieved to be out of there. The three of us did not stop laughing until around dinner, and my dad just kind of gave up on the idea of having some kind of punishment and just decided we weren't going to go back to that church for a while.
It remains the single best farting-in-church thing that has ever happened.

My wife and I went to a funeral. We only knew the son of the deceased and son's wife.
The church was overly packed, but we barely found room in one pew and squeezed in.

My wife was seated next to a tiny old lady, and all during the service she passed gas.
Not my wife - but the old lady. Her farts were continuous and burned the eyes as
well as the nose. - The whole church was aware of a problem.

When leaving, I commented to my wife, how sorry I felt for that poor old lady
with the gas problem. My wife whirled around angrily saying, "I DON'T!"

I was shocked! I asked my wife how she could be so heartless as to some
poor lady who couldn't even help herself.

My wife retorted, "Couldn't Help Herself?" "That lady bent over, lifted a cheek,
glared at me eye to eye, and Blasted Away!'

"That Was No Accident." "THAT Was On Purpose!"

If the farter was Adam Schiff he'd still be emphatic it was the other guy.

I work in a refinery and am required to wear a 4 gas monitor. One thing it measures are LELs.

Quote

What is LEL, you may ask? LEL stands for “Lower Explosive Limit” and is the lowest concentration of a particular gas that has the potential to be flammable or combustible. In other words, it’s the minimum amount of gas that will catch fire or explode when an ignition source is present. If a gas concentration is less than the lower limit, there is insufficient gas for the mixture to ignite.

A couple weeks ago while sitting at my desk, I cut a large SBD (silent but deadly) and it set off my gas monitor in full alarm. Everyone in the office now knew what I had done.

I consider that as a high point in my now declining career.

I can always tell when a girl pussy-farts in a nudist colony. I read lips.

I’m laughing so hard I can hardly breathe 😂

Man I laughed until cried ,good story