My sister and I went to a bookstore with a basement level, that by all first appearances is a dark stairwell that leads to nothing: as we’re both walking down ancient wooden steps, each one is creaking so loud it’s practically screaming, and I realize it would also be an opportune time to fart. So I let loose the kraken, and my farts become rapid staccato, machine gun decibel loud. As I turn the corner, I realize a few things: the basement level is well lit and enormous; I am standing on stage with an author who is reading his book to a packed , standing room attendance; the audience had clearly heard everything and they are stifling their laughter.

At this point, my sister was turning into the room and realizing the same thing. She was literally in the spotlight, and I said, “M! Your farts are soooo loud! I can’t take you anywhere!” . At this point, she was paralyzed laughing , turning beet red and sweating under a spotlight. while I calmly walked away, everyone was clearly feeling they have been given permission to laugh quite hard, the author made various bon- mots at the establishment’s expense, and my poor sister, was still under the spot light, apologizing to everyone, while trying to clarify it’s fake news, it hadn’t been her.

It was the best.

TLDR— not me butt my sister