The Storm

A woman invites her date up to her apartment after a wonderful dinner. After a bit of conversation on the couch, they kiss. Passions rise and the kissing gets more intense, as does the pressure in her belly. She realizes that the is going to fart at any moment, whether she wants to or not.

She pushes away from her date and says, "The kissing is stirring up deep emotions in me and I feel the need to express them through music. I want to play a piece I've just learned on the piano, it's called 'The Storm'." She sits at the piano and begins playing. The piece gets louder and more tumultuous, and at the right moment, she lets one rip, loud, but masked by the music. She plays for a bit longer then returns to the couch feeling that she'd dodged a bullet.

A bit later she feels it again. The pressure. She tries to contain it, but she knows that it will soon overwhelm her. "Oh, honey, I have to play again. The passion compels me." She repeats her earlier performance, and at the same part in the 'The Storm', she farts.

Back again on the couch, as the passion continues, she feels the urge yet again. She says, "Baby, I just gotta play 'The Storm' again. I'm sure you're getting tired of the piece, but I must express myself."

She stands and walks to the piano. Her date says, "Go ahead, I love the piece, but could you leave the part out where the lightning strikes the shit house?"