GF found this on Reddit. Figured I'd post it here. Had us laughing for hours.
A few years ago, someone asked a straight forward question on reddit.
Reddit, what is your silent, unseen act of personal defiance?
This lead to a number of humorous answers, but none like this. RubyRhod explains how to effectively deal with shitty kids using your own bodyâs biology (without physically hitting the kid). RubyRhod, please explain?
When a kid is being a brat in a noisy and public area, I casually get close to them and fart on their head/face. Iâm really tall so itâs usually a direct hit.
Come again? Did you just say you fart on kids who are misbehaving, even if you donât know them?
If I decide to stare itâs usually with a, âYeah, what the fuck are you gonna do about it?â look.
Iâm about 6â7â so even when Iâm just trying to be friendly (i.e. not farting on a stranger kidâs head) and meeting a family memberâs or friendâs kid for the first time, Iâve noticed they get very âhide between their motherâs legsâ intimidated on sight if Iâm not sitting down. So itâs not hard for me to silence/intimidate a child, especially when Iâm trying to.
However, a few times Iâve been called out. One time I was pretty drunk with a friend at a Target buying Risk (and no, we never finished playing the whole game). This little Mexican 5-7 year old with a mohawk, was being an insufferable little shit in the action figure section. I heard him from like 5 aisles over and it was like nails on a chalkboard. I tell my friend, âIâm gonna fart on this kids head. Watch and learn.â
I saunter on over to the aisle in question and see the vile little prick calling his mom an âidiotâ for not buying him a huge fucking G.I. JOE The Movie vehicle (which pissed me off even more considering how awful that movie was. BUY SOME GOOD TOYS!) âI already bought that one for you and you broke it by throwing it down the stairsâ âSHUT UP. I NEED IT. ITâS THE ONLY ONE I DONâT HAVE NOW.â The mother was younger than me (Iâm mid twenties) and gave a defeated look, âI donât have enough money right now.â âYOU ARE AN IDIOT,â and continued to just berate and publicly shame this woman.
At the time, I was on a strict Chipotle carnitas burrito diet. And while I was watching all this, my stomach gave me an initial warning gurgle (very courteous stomach) telling me I was about an hour away from punishing the toilet. Serendipity! Destiny!
I inch a bit closer to my prey, inspecting some wrestling toys and pondering the weird homoeroticness of the whole âsportâ in general. The kid shouts âFUCK YOU, I HATE YOU!â The mom rolls her eyes and turns her back to the kid to ignore him. And could you believe it, the kid gets on his hands and knees and starts taking the toy out of the box. Itâs go time, motherfucker.
I position my back towards him and at this point am like 2 feet away from him. His head is down, getting frustrated with those god damn twisty tie things, and I go for the kill. I bend down to reach for the one of the toys on the lower shelf. At this point, my ass is INCHES away from this kids head.
Now, generally speaking, the best way to go about this is to act casual, drop your belly bomb, then walk away after a few seconds like nothing is out of the ordinary. I usually go one aisle over and listen to the kidâs reaction in delight. However, today I couldnât help myself. I have my head tilted back looking at this kid out of the corner of my eye, to ensure accuracy.
Iâm so close that from a distance it looks like Iâm about to sit on him,. My friend sees this happening and can no longer contain himself. Heâs covering his mouth, but his âhee-hawâ hyperventilating donkey chortle is fairly audible over the late 90â˛s pop muzak playing on the loudspeakers.
The kid immediately looks up towards the laughter, but canât help but notice there is an ass now directly in his face. Now, Iâm trying not to laugh but also panicking as I just made eye contact with him. He furls his brow and I look over in the motherâs direction, still back towards us. I relish in the moment and the look on this childâs confused and naive face.
The initial blast was mighty and boisterous. I swear I saw his hair blowing in the wind (so to speak). If I wasnât wearing jeans, I think it could have probably blown over an empty soda can. I would call it âa very fun fartâ (A++ would buy again). However, what immediately followed that out the chamber was truly horrifying. The fartâs implication changed without notice and swiftly. It went from a joyous, dry airhorn squeal to a nefarious, hissing mephitis. I think the little moppet noticed the hateful metamorphosis before even I did because he wretched his neck violently trying to get away from the personified evil being fumigated into his soul. Because of his positioning (hovering over the toy, hands and knee), it was all in vain as the only way out was forwardâŚand forward would mean certain death. I had positioned myself well on the higher ground, free to escape or relent at any time and him, poor and immobilized: biding his time until the cruel attack was over. Obviously, this child needed to re-read Sun Tzu.
In total, it lasted about 4 seconds but for that kid, it must have seemed like time was frozen. The long-term severe brain damage which he no doubt suffered, only added to that effect.
When I finished with my bidness (i.e. forcing a little boy to huff my farts), there was a silent, pregnant pause. The kid was clearly shocked and stunned. No one had ever stood up to this dwarf sociopath in his whole life. I had taken the words out of his mouth and filled it with fart.
I make my move first, picking up the toy I was âreaching forâ off the low shelf, take a few steps forward and stare at it for a few seconds. On â2 alligator,â the only thing the kid could manage to do was burst into tears. My friend senses danger âthe jig is upâ and his head darts for cover. The mom turns around to see her kid with an open toy, crying on the floor and me minding my own business.
She walks up to him and asks whatâs wrong but the kid canât speak. All he gets out is, âBAWAWAAAWAFARTBAWAWA.â It took every fiber in my body not to laugh. I put the toy back on a middle shelf, turn around, give a final nonchalant looksy and then begin to take my exit.
Sensing that his assailant was getting away scot-free, he somehow managed to compose himself for a moment. He shouts, âHE FARTED ON ME!â I could feel him pointing at me but I continued to act like I was just browsing. I was ALMOST around the corner when the mom goes:
âExcuse meâŚ.sirâŚ.SIR!â
I turn around nonplussed, âUhâŚwho? Me?â while pointing to myself.
âYes. Did YOU just FART on my son?â
Weighing my options, I played dumb. âWhat? I mean, I did fart.â
âOn my son?â
âWell, I mean, technically speakingâŚI meanâŚwhat is âonâ?â
âWhy did you fart on my son?â
At this point the little kid has the look of schadenfreude on his face, happy to see me in trouble. Fuck you, IâM A MAN! I WILL FART ON YOU IF I PLEASE! I turn my attention to the little kid and stare at him, âBecause the whole store could hear him being a little, rotten asshole to his mother so I thought Iâd come over here and treat him like one.â
The mom looks at me, her son and the scattered GI JOE/wrappers/box on the floor. The mom is puzzled as to what to do and says, âJust..just go.â Thatâs my cue! I turn around, walk away with little extra step. I look up to see the black orb of security cameras and all the stories on reddit about unjustly having to register as a sex offender flash before my eyes. As soon as I turn the corner, I book it outside as fast as I can while dialing my friend. Like a true friend, he is right out front with the engine running and Risk in the trunk.
We laugh on the car ride back about the whole scene. With a slight hint of seriousness in his tone, my friend asks me:
âDo you do that a lot?â
âAhhh, not that much. Like once every 6 months or so.â
We both knew I was lying. We got to our other friends house, played risk until 4 in the morning while drinking scotch. Overall, I would say it was a preeeetay preeeeetay good day.
Read more at http://regretfulmorning.com/2013/10...-walmart-hilarity-ensues/#qFuy2HvxK1cdWmPJ.99
A few years ago, someone asked a straight forward question on reddit.
Reddit, what is your silent, unseen act of personal defiance?
This lead to a number of humorous answers, but none like this. RubyRhod explains how to effectively deal with shitty kids using your own bodyâs biology (without physically hitting the kid). RubyRhod, please explain?
When a kid is being a brat in a noisy and public area, I casually get close to them and fart on their head/face. Iâm really tall so itâs usually a direct hit.
Come again? Did you just say you fart on kids who are misbehaving, even if you donât know them?
If I decide to stare itâs usually with a, âYeah, what the fuck are you gonna do about it?â look.
Iâm about 6â7â so even when Iâm just trying to be friendly (i.e. not farting on a stranger kidâs head) and meeting a family memberâs or friendâs kid for the first time, Iâve noticed they get very âhide between their motherâs legsâ intimidated on sight if Iâm not sitting down. So itâs not hard for me to silence/intimidate a child, especially when Iâm trying to.
However, a few times Iâve been called out. One time I was pretty drunk with a friend at a Target buying Risk (and no, we never finished playing the whole game). This little Mexican 5-7 year old with a mohawk, was being an insufferable little shit in the action figure section. I heard him from like 5 aisles over and it was like nails on a chalkboard. I tell my friend, âIâm gonna fart on this kids head. Watch and learn.â
I saunter on over to the aisle in question and see the vile little prick calling his mom an âidiotâ for not buying him a huge fucking G.I. JOE The Movie vehicle (which pissed me off even more considering how awful that movie was. BUY SOME GOOD TOYS!) âI already bought that one for you and you broke it by throwing it down the stairsâ âSHUT UP. I NEED IT. ITâS THE ONLY ONE I DONâT HAVE NOW.â The mother was younger than me (Iâm mid twenties) and gave a defeated look, âI donât have enough money right now.â âYOU ARE AN IDIOT,â and continued to just berate and publicly shame this woman.
At the time, I was on a strict Chipotle carnitas burrito diet. And while I was watching all this, my stomach gave me an initial warning gurgle (very courteous stomach) telling me I was about an hour away from punishing the toilet. Serendipity! Destiny!
I inch a bit closer to my prey, inspecting some wrestling toys and pondering the weird homoeroticness of the whole âsportâ in general. The kid shouts âFUCK YOU, I HATE YOU!â The mom rolls her eyes and turns her back to the kid to ignore him. And could you believe it, the kid gets on his hands and knees and starts taking the toy out of the box. Itâs go time, motherfucker.
I position my back towards him and at this point am like 2 feet away from him. His head is down, getting frustrated with those god damn twisty tie things, and I go for the kill. I bend down to reach for the one of the toys on the lower shelf. At this point, my ass is INCHES away from this kids head.
Now, generally speaking, the best way to go about this is to act casual, drop your belly bomb, then walk away after a few seconds like nothing is out of the ordinary. I usually go one aisle over and listen to the kidâs reaction in delight. However, today I couldnât help myself. I have my head tilted back looking at this kid out of the corner of my eye, to ensure accuracy.
Iâm so close that from a distance it looks like Iâm about to sit on him,. My friend sees this happening and can no longer contain himself. Heâs covering his mouth, but his âhee-hawâ hyperventilating donkey chortle is fairly audible over the late 90â˛s pop muzak playing on the loudspeakers.
The kid immediately looks up towards the laughter, but canât help but notice there is an ass now directly in his face. Now, Iâm trying not to laugh but also panicking as I just made eye contact with him. He furls his brow and I look over in the motherâs direction, still back towards us. I relish in the moment and the look on this childâs confused and naive face.
The initial blast was mighty and boisterous. I swear I saw his hair blowing in the wind (so to speak). If I wasnât wearing jeans, I think it could have probably blown over an empty soda can. I would call it âa very fun fartâ (A++ would buy again). However, what immediately followed that out the chamber was truly horrifying. The fartâs implication changed without notice and swiftly. It went from a joyous, dry airhorn squeal to a nefarious, hissing mephitis. I think the little moppet noticed the hateful metamorphosis before even I did because he wretched his neck violently trying to get away from the personified evil being fumigated into his soul. Because of his positioning (hovering over the toy, hands and knee), it was all in vain as the only way out was forwardâŚand forward would mean certain death. I had positioned myself well on the higher ground, free to escape or relent at any time and him, poor and immobilized: biding his time until the cruel attack was over. Obviously, this child needed to re-read Sun Tzu.
In total, it lasted about 4 seconds but for that kid, it must have seemed like time was frozen. The long-term severe brain damage which he no doubt suffered, only added to that effect.
When I finished with my bidness (i.e. forcing a little boy to huff my farts), there was a silent, pregnant pause. The kid was clearly shocked and stunned. No one had ever stood up to this dwarf sociopath in his whole life. I had taken the words out of his mouth and filled it with fart.
I make my move first, picking up the toy I was âreaching forâ off the low shelf, take a few steps forward and stare at it for a few seconds. On â2 alligator,â the only thing the kid could manage to do was burst into tears. My friend senses danger âthe jig is upâ and his head darts for cover. The mom turns around to see her kid with an open toy, crying on the floor and me minding my own business.
She walks up to him and asks whatâs wrong but the kid canât speak. All he gets out is, âBAWAWAAAWAFARTBAWAWA.â It took every fiber in my body not to laugh. I put the toy back on a middle shelf, turn around, give a final nonchalant looksy and then begin to take my exit.
Sensing that his assailant was getting away scot-free, he somehow managed to compose himself for a moment. He shouts, âHE FARTED ON ME!â I could feel him pointing at me but I continued to act like I was just browsing. I was ALMOST around the corner when the mom goes:
âExcuse meâŚ.sirâŚ.SIR!â
I turn around nonplussed, âUhâŚwho? Me?â while pointing to myself.
âYes. Did YOU just FART on my son?â
Weighing my options, I played dumb. âWhat? I mean, I did fart.â
âOn my son?â
âWell, I mean, technically speakingâŚI meanâŚwhat is âonâ?â
âWhy did you fart on my son?â
At this point the little kid has the look of schadenfreude on his face, happy to see me in trouble. Fuck you, IâM A MAN! I WILL FART ON YOU IF I PLEASE! I turn my attention to the little kid and stare at him, âBecause the whole store could hear him being a little, rotten asshole to his mother so I thought Iâd come over here and treat him like one.â
The mom looks at me, her son and the scattered GI JOE/wrappers/box on the floor. The mom is puzzled as to what to do and says, âJust..just go.â Thatâs my cue! I turn around, walk away with little extra step. I look up to see the black orb of security cameras and all the stories on reddit about unjustly having to register as a sex offender flash before my eyes. As soon as I turn the corner, I book it outside as fast as I can while dialing my friend. Like a true friend, he is right out front with the engine running and Risk in the trunk.
We laugh on the car ride back about the whole scene. With a slight hint of seriousness in his tone, my friend asks me:
âDo you do that a lot?â
âAhhh, not that much. Like once every 6 months or so.â
We both knew I was lying. We got to our other friends house, played risk until 4 in the morning while drinking scotch. Overall, I would say it was a preeeetay preeeeetay good day.
Read more at http://regretfulmorning.com/2013/10...-walmart-hilarity-ensues/#qFuy2HvxK1cdWmPJ.99