Fart Football

One night, an elderly couple is sitting in bed. The husband reading while the wife quietly knits. Breaking the silence, the husband leans gently to one side, and unleashes an egregious fart. His wife crumples her face and writhes in near agony next to him, bemoaning the ubiquitous ass mist that was only exentuated by the humid summer evening.

"What the hell was that all about??" The wife cried.

"It's Fart Football!" The husband proudly chirped. "That beauty was worth 6 points." He then grunted whilst clenching his bowels, squeaking out a lone toot. "There's an extra point!"

The wife's disgusted face quickly turned into a coy smile.
"Oh, you call that a fart? That's no fart, THIS is a fart." Enveiling an ass blast reminiscent of Louis Armstrong, the wife vibrated the whole bed with the power of a dozen Nokia cell phones. "Hail Mary touch down!" With no hesitation, she let out a less volumness, but still respectable aftershock. "2 point conversion! Whaddyaknow!"

Now this emasculatory display made the husband none too happy. As the wife sat, arms folded in apparent victory, he conjured up all his strength as he clutched the bed posts for leverage. A lone drop of sweat ran down his nose as he called upon divine strength to secure his man hood. Unerring to his bodily instincts, blinded by the pursuit of honor, his efforts brought him so close, yet so far; he shat the bed.

"What was that???" The wife croaked.

"Half-time, switch sides."