The Other “F” Word – The Devil Made Me Do It


I read the news to stay current with current affairs and to write redundant sentences, such as this current one. I swear you cannot make this stuff up.  It is out of the headlines of our absurd news. This story appeared out of nowhere like a green methane fog.

Flatulent Demons – that’s right!  It’s now my newest excuse to use on my wife.  It’s the church’s fault that the demon vault has been opened.  Beelzebubblebutt is his namo.  After reading this I am going to the local church and ask for an exorcism. When my affliction remains, I’ll sue for $10 million. I deserve it right? I mean really, I didn’t win honorable mention in the latest Powerball drawing.  I’m entitled to something for my lack of luck in life and high gas pressure content, right?   I have a witness to my possession.  Late at night the grumblings occur and the sheets quake and my wife calls out in agony,

OMG – are you possessed?  What’s inside you?  I swear it’s like a lake of sulfur in here burning my eyes!

See!!!!  I have indisputable corroborating evidence.  Wives never lie! So next time she screams in the darkness, I am going to use a low voice,

This is Beelzebubblebutt, it’s not his fault. Bwahahaha.

She will shake me and I will gently rollover and say, “What?”

There’s a demon in here!

Yes honey I know, I’ve filed motion in the district court against the church.  They failed to exorcise my hiney.

Only you can exercise your hiney. I’m not falling for this for a moment, she says.

Not exercise, like at the gym, like a demon exorcism.  You know the one’s that make millions at the box office?

Well, that’s not funny, now I have to get out of the warm bed and go to the bathroom, you *$(#)#@@!

Geez, humor is so wasted on a wife.  I roll over and then there’s a rumbling, from her side, and a new fog rises, along with the bed. A reddish yellow haze fills the room and I dare take a whiff.

OMG – my eyes, my eyes.  What the *$(#)#@@! was that?

Next thing I know my wife is speaking in tongues – with ten tongues. She twirls her head around and spits pea soup at me.  In a deep and malevolent voice she says,

“My flatulent demon – Assmodeus. Bwahahaha.”

Touche! I high-five her, we have an other-worldly laugh, and I give her a little golden faux Oscar trophy- Winner of Best Special Effects. There’s nothing worse than a showoff wife!  However, when you dare to look on the bright side of life, I now have a class action lawsuit.  Oh, the devil made me do it.

What news article have you read lately that just seemed too unreal and so funny that you accidentally passed a demon?


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