May 22, 2012 by Kim
Things had been calm for months, in regards to The Beast…
I was beginning to suspect that he knew that it had been taken too far when he kicked my Mom’s ass…
What’s that? You say that you aren’t familiar with The Beast and my Mom’s Extreme Throw Down Death Match
What a shame…. You really should go back and read it.
Do it for Momma.
So Summer turned to Autumn, which soon morphed into Winter and here we are today… Spring
Momma has healed up quite nicely and was recently able to show me how she has regained a full range of motion with her once-previously gimpy arm.
The Beast and my Mom have both decided to allow bygones to be bygones and are attempting a slightly skittish friendship.
I have been known to take a lot of crap…. You can steal the pudding out of my lunch, you can forget to put 17 hours of overtime on my paycheck, you can shout that my kids are ugly and I dress them funny… you’re not going to phase me.
But, if you mess with my Momma, you should probably go into hiding… and request a prayer chain… and attempt to obtain a time machine
The Beast knows this… he’s not a stupid Beast.
Of course, he couldn’t completely abandon The Action Figure Massacre of 2012 cold turkey….
and then there were a few weeks, in September, when I was led to believe that Dickie and The Beast had joined forces
But, after those instances it was mostly quiet.
That distinct type of quiet which places a dull ache far into the depths of your stomach
It won’t always require a shock to all of your senses to create a major disturbance
Given the right occurrence, one lone solitary sense disruption can edge your brain towards involuntary shut-down mode.
However, the disruption has to be mammoth.
Larger than you ever know possible.
It was insanely ignorant of me to assume that a truce had been formed.
My guard had been lowered for months
Stupid, STUPID woman!
Throughout this week, The Beast and The Hideous Odor Emerging From His Butt have tirelessly waged a deadly nuclear attack against myself and the family… I have never once claimed to be a “fan” of The Beast’s previous gas-y eruptions, but this… this was different
Even if Methane Gas, itself, had a butt and was capable of creating its own flatulence… The Beast would reek stronger
It was the kind of smell that seemed to sprout arms and climb down inside your throat…
Thick… hot…. you could taste it on the air
The Hideous Odor Emerging From His Butt actually managed to pull me from a deep slumber, 3 separate times in one night.
Hiding my face under the covers was fruitless… The Odor laughingly penetrated my lumpy comforter, with ease.
My only option, it seemed, was to hold my breath… and I did, refusing to inhale until I had either fallen back asleep or passed out.
It has now been roughly 36 hours since I last came into direct contact with The Odor
Somewhere between my frantic screams for The Odor to cease and desist and The Hub’s mumbled threats to stick a handful of air fresheners up the Beast’s butt… an uneasy stillness has rolled through.
I’ll have to admit that The Beast has won this battle. The human body could never produce anything close to what we have experienced these few days.
But am I waving a white flag, in regards to the War?