Story Time Boys and Girls

So last night Hubby and I are sitting in the living room watching TV. Beo is asleep on his bed and the cat is curled up on the couch. A stench of a thousand rotting corpses starts to fill the room. It's worse than rotten eggs, White Castle, and cheap beer. My eyes started to water and I found it hard to breathe.

"What's wrong, baby?" Hubby asks.
"Just wait," I gasp.

Sure enough, the green cloud of death finally reached his locale. "Good God! Was that you?"
"No. I think it was the dog."

We look at Beo, who is sleeping like a log. Hubby gets a candle and finds a lighter, but we're afraid to light it least we blow ourselves out of the house. There was enough methane in that room to send off a balloon. We were terrified of what might happen if we introduced an open flame into the equation, but the desire to breath was greater. We kissed each other and flicked the Bic.

Still alive, but those dog farts could peel the paint off our walls. This is soooooo our dog.