November 2004

Grandpa Drops Bombs to Save Thanksgiving

SOUTH JERSEY - In what is being hailed as a brave break from mundane holiday tradition, Evil Robots Co-Founder and Editor-in-Chief, Grandpa contributed to the disorder at his in-laws Thanksgiving dinner. The dinner, which was hosted in the South Jersey home of his wife's parents, was enjoyed by all, but left many wondering why Grandpa seemed to enjoy himself more than in previous years.

For the previous five years, Grandpa's Thanksgiving traditions have mainly involved sitting and pretending to ignore people. This is because every year, for the two hours leading up the day's meal, his in-laws bicker and fight with each other at an embarrassingly high rate.

"Christ," said Grandpa, "It's either 'get out of my way' or 'no, I wanted the other pan!' As if it were their first day in the fucking kitchen, AND they forgot company was in the damn house. Because of them, Thanksgiving is my least favorite holiday."

In a prepared statement, Evil Robots' CEO and Co-Founder, Godzilla, expressed dismay. "That sucks, pal," Godzilla started. "Thanksgiving is the best holiday without presents or a cookout. Personally, I enjoy it thoroughly BECAUSE while everyone is preparing dinner and doing the dishes I stand around like it's my first day in the kitchen and I've forgotten that company is in the damn house." Godzilla concluded, "Then again, dude, I'm far more charming than your retarded in-laws."

In a stroke of genius, Grandpa decided not to leave the house when the childishness began, but lower the level of inane childishness even more. He decided to fill the house with stinky farts.

"When he called me with the plan, I almost puked!" Godzilla, said. "You know, he kinda impressed me sometimes, the asshole. I mean, I LOVE to ruin holidays and special occasions, but What Grandpa Did was impressive. I think he reset the bar."

On Wednesday evening, promising to drive to the 7-11 for a late-night snack, Grandpa instead drove to the Giant grocery store. There he purchased one head of broccoli, 8 ounces of sauerkraut, and a can of black beans. In the front seat of his car, he made a slurry of all 3 items then chased it with two chocolate milks. When he arrived at home, he went to bed, hoping the evil gasses would slowly develop overnight.

By the time he and his wife, Bigfoot, arrived at his in-law's home, he was feeling miserable. The three-bean burrito and the raw vegetables from the night before were aching to be expelled, but he needed to save his precious fumes for his plans. As morning turned into early afternoon, Grandpa could be seen fidgeting and fussing in whichever chair he sat. Every indecent fart he kept to himself would be the stuff of moral victory if he could only hang on for a little longer.

At nearly three o'clock, just before the turkey was ready to be taken out of the oven, a fight broke out. Bigfoot's mother noticed that her husband had thrown out a label with cooking instructions on the back. At the same time, he was trying to move some side dishes onto the oven-top burners. The long-married couple erupted in childish name-calling and unnecessary bitching. The air in the room became quite thick.

At the same time Bigfoot and her sister began to sunk in their chairs, Grandpa rose from his and entered the kitchen. While pretending to pour himself a glass of water, he quietly released a five-second long fart. As quickly as he entered the kitchen, he left, pulling the nasty stench along with him. Smelling his success, he cracked a smile as he drank his water.

The bickering continued, although with awkward pauses, as each in-law pondered whether they should blame the other for the terrible smells overtaking the holiday fight.

"I guess it could have been me," said Bigfoot's mother, "The carrots I had snacked on were repeating on me, and since I was yelling so much, I thought something had slipped out."

Nevertheless, Grandpa's in-laws sniped and bickered at each other for the next ten minutes. Grandpa relieved himself of his gaseous pressure three more times before his wife recognized his smells and ordered him to the bathroom. From there, he sent Godzilla a text message which read: "Mission accomplished. Fartastic smells abound. Did not get fingered."

Godzilla replied that he expected that Grandpa most certainly did get fingered. "Because he's a pussy."