It was a dark and storm night when a ship

It was a dark and storm night when a ship crash landed in the ocean. Carrying over 5000 people to Africa.

Although there were no injuries during the crash, a few of the people had bumps and bruises. Luckily, there was a doctor on board. Dr. Jones started treating the

injured passengers but there were too much for him to handle alone. Dead bodies were piling up. He breathed life into some but couldn't save a lot others. Never before he felt so

useful. He'd never amounted to anything. Here he was searching through the planes twisted & burning fuselage for survivors. He dragged them into the strip of jungle cleared by the

medics who first began their work by parachuting into the area. Who knew the undergrowth could be so thick and yet the ground underneath so rocky? Yet even this remote area needed

any kind of poison plant you could cook up. But they didn't, assuming I was just another whiny hipster girl. It was the perfect crime. No one would ever find out that is was me

who farted in the gym. You see, there were so many people working out and straining that it could have been anyone. It was hot and noxious like fermented raw chicken and Dr. Pepper

except over by the triceps machine where a Nancy boy named Marvin Finkelstein dressed in pink sweats and smelling like a French whorehouse was prancing around some 1970s disco tune

(on a WALKMAN of all things). The prancing ponce tripped over the 30 lb kettle bell and fell face first into the ellipical. He turned out to be the best dumbell I ever pressed.