An elderly couple had been married for decades, and life was peaceful—except for one thing.
Every morning, right after waking up, the husband would let out a thunderous fart that could shake the curtains. His wife would bolt upright in bed, waving her hands and coughing.
“For heaven’s sake, Harold!” she’d yell. “One day you’re going to blow your guts out doing that!”
Harold would just chuckle. “Relax, Martha. It’s natural. Everyone does it.”
Years passed, and nothing changed—until one Christmas morning.
While preparing dinner, Martha stared at the turkey’s insides — the gizzard, liver, and all those bits — and an idea sparked. A wicked one.
She quietly scooped the turkey guts into a bowl, tiptoed upstairs, and found Harold fast asleep. Pulling back the covers, she carefully tugged the waistband of his underwear… and emptied the bowl inside. Then she tiptoed out, barely holding in her laughter.
A few minutes later, the familiar rumble shook the house — followed by a scream so loud it could wake the dead.
Martha fell to the floor laughing as Harold ran to the bathroom yelling, “OH MY GOD! IT HAPPENED!”
After half an hour, Harold shuffled downstairs, pale and trembling. His wife bit her lip to keep from laughing.
“What happened, dear?” she asked innocently.
Harold sighed. “Martha, you were right all along. You said one day I’d blow my guts out, and this morning… I did!”
“Oh my goodness!” she gasped. “Are you alright? Should I call the doctor?”
He waved his hand. “No need. With a little Vaseline and two fingers… I got most of them back in.” 💀😂
