It was 2 AM and all that was open was a Fatburger, so I pulled in. Odd, no helicopters around, must be due to the tornados out near Oklahoma City. I'd never chased a storm in my life but the past 24 hours had been a blur of uprooted trees and flying farm animals. The storm-chase adrenaline quickly wore off when the tornado waxed. Exhausted, everyone fell into a deep sleep dreaming of a bunch of terrorists trying to threaten a passenger with a toothpick. They looked fierce and harmful but he was tired, the hour was late, and the cheese that threatened from the toothpick looked delicious. Wine was needed , and fast. But where the hell does one find wine at an Amish wedding? Good thing he had 2 Percocet tucked in his sock . A moment later a woman from across the room approached me. Her amish garb was drab, but her eyes read something else. She started speaking and sucking on her index finger, batting her eyes my way. She took her finger to my ear, shoved it in, yelling: "Wet Willy!" If only she had not done that! No sooner did the cold finger penetrate my ear, the hugest fart blew out.



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