Maineiac

Once upon a time, there lived a women who had a maddening passion for baked beans. She loved them but, unfortunately, they had always had a very embarrassing and somewhat lively reaction to her. Then one day she met a guy and fell in love. When it became apparent that they would marry she thought to herself, He is such a sweet and gentle man, he would never go for this carrying on. So she made the supreme sacrifice and gave up beans.

Some months later, her car broke down on the way home from work. Since she lived in the country, she called her husband and told him that she would be late because she had to walk home.

On her way, she passed a small diner and the odor of baked beans was more than she could stand. Since she still had miles to walk, she figured she would walk off any ill effects by the time she reached home. So, she stopped at the diner and before she knew it, she had consumed three large orders of baked beans. All the way home, she putt-putted. And, upon arriving home, she felt reasonably sure she could control it.

Her husband seemed excited to see her and exclaimed delightedly, Darling, I have a surprise for dinner tonight. He then blindfolded her and led her to her chair at the table. She seated herself and just as he was about to remove the blindfold from his wife the telephone rang. He made her promise not to touch the blindfold until he returned. He then went to answer the phone.

The baked beans she had consumed were still affecting her and the pressure was becoming almost unbearable, so while her husband was out of the room she seized the opportunity, shifted her weight to one leg and let it go. It was not only loud, but it smelled like a fertilizer truck running over a skunk in front of a Pulpwood mill. She took her napkin and fanned the air around vigorously. Then she shifted to the other cheek and ripped three more, which reminded her of cabbage cooking. Keeping her ears tuned to the conversation in the other room, he went on like this for another ten minutes.

When the phone farewell signaled the end of her freedom, she fanned the air a few more times with her napkin, placed it on her lap, and folded her hands upon it, smiling contentedly to herself. She was the picture of innocence when her husband returned, apologizing for taking so long. He asked her if she peeked and she assured him that she had not. At this point, he removed the blindfold.

There were twelve dinner guest seated around the table to wish her a Happy Birthday.