This is a Very Special Episode of mattonfire.net. The subject matter deals with flatulence and is extremely immature.
I’m having a great time at this concert. Second row from the stage, dead center. Couldn’t ask for a better view. The band sounds amazing. I hope they play that one song that I really like. I’ll make sure I express my excitement by clapping wildly and exerting a high-pitched man-scream when they play the opening chords. Then I’ll wait until that one quiet part in the song and make that high-pitched man scream again. That’s a good idea. I bet I’m the only one who has ever thought of doing that. I can’t wait for the quiet part. I’m going to scream something really loud and the whole venue is going to hear me and maybe the band will look at me. I’m an awesome concert goer. Maybe I’ll use that little moment to proclaim that the band rocks or that I love the singer. Yes, that’s what I’ll do. Then maybe the band will want to hang out with me after the show and we can go out for pizza and talk about stuff like normal people and not like they’re a famous band. Then we’ll exchange emails and we’ll be pals for life and they’ll invite me to go on tour with them. I’m probably the coolest guy at this concert.
I like this song. It’s catchy and has a nice beat. I’m can’t help but dance. Look at me tap my foot in an exaggerated manner. Oh, now I got my head nodding. Yeah, I’m in the groove, now. Watch out now, I’ve got one hand keeping time on my leg. I might have to take the other hand out of my pocket. Yeah, I’m feeling it now.
What is that? I got a fleeting whiff of what smells like beer-soaked dog food. Okay, it’s gone. That was pretty gross. Okay, back to my foot-tapping. Great, now my whole rhythm is off. Was that a burp? Strangers smell strange.
Yeah, this song is rockin’. I’m totally singing the wrong lyrics, but I don’t care. I’m in the zone, baby.
Oh no, I think somebody farted. Yes, it’s getting stronger. Oh no. Stop breathing. Uh, I think it’s in my mouth. Okay, play it cool, Matt. You don’t want all these people around you to think that you were the one who farted. Keep your eyes straight and don’t move and, for the love of God, keep your mouth closed or else the air from some stranger’s butt will infiltrate your mouth. Can’t they smell it? Why aren’t all these other people reacting to the stankness? They probably think I did it and they don’t want to make me uncomfortable. That’s nice of them, but I didn’t fart.
Oh, lord. This is bad. This is one of those tofu and soy milk farts. And it’s lingering right in this area. Oh, these people think I did it, I know it. Oh, it’s so nasty. My eyes are watering.
Okay, I need to let them know in a non-chalant manner that I didn’t fart. Let me just get the attention of the girl next to me. Yeah, I’ll just nudge her. Oh, great. She’s about 17. She’s probably already tweeted or facebooked that the creepy old guy next to her at the concert ripped a stinker.
I know! I’ll make the “hold my nose” gesture as I point to the hipster dude in front of me. She smiled! Phew. Now she thinks the skinny-jeaned kid in front of me farted. What a relief.
But what if she thinks that I was the one who farted because I made such an effort to convey that I didn’t fart? What if that’s what all these people think now? But I didn’t! I didn’t fart! It doesn’t even smell like my kind of fart. It smells like a stranger fart. And stranger farts are so much grosser than mine.
Hey, here comes that quiet part in the song… get ready for your big moment. I’m the coolest person at this concert.