To the insensitive, inconsiderate, degenerate walking turd that boarded Southwest Airlines flight 15 out of Dallas Love Field for Houston Hobby Airport this morning and cracked off not one but three extremely noxious farts in the presence of a captive audience of over 90 fellow travelers, I wish to warn you that you have been marked for death for your crimes against humanity and my nasal passages since you are clearly an Al-Qaeda operative engaged in terrorist activities on American soil.
I mean, seriously, do you not understand the physics and chemistry of life aboard a pressurized aluminum can traveling at an altitude of over 30,000 feet above sea level moving at a speed of approximately 75% of the speed of sound. Under those conditions, it is not possible to escape your foul stench. There is no place for it to go but into the nostrils of your cabin mates.
Could you not wait 50 short minutes to unleash your gas attack in the terminal building where the air is not trapped and recirculated? Are you so out of shape that you can’t clench your anal muscles enough to pinch off that air biscuit before it makes a break for it? Was it too much trouble to stop off at the restrooms before the flight to drop the load that was so desperately trying to escape your body? Or were you self conscious about making use of the two conveniently located aircraft lavatories? I can certainly understand bashful bowels; butt, please, have some common courtesy. If you don’t want to hover over the flying port-a-potty for fear of contracting some unknown microbes with a serious stash of frequent flier miles, at least have the human decency to step in, close the door and allow your aroma the freedom it so richly deserves in a place where it’s expected to smell foul.
Be it known, that you will be tortured extensively before being summarily executed. We will find the most lactose intolerant, bean burrito freaks there are and lock you in a small room whose only air source is a room full of those freaks eating from an extensive Mexican food buffet. There will only be milk to drink in that room.
You will tell us who the other members of your cell are and what plans you have made for gassing unsuspecting travelers. You will tell us who is financing your organization, and who is supplying you with the ingredients for your weapons of mass nausea. Then you will be slathered in barbeque sauce and staked in a pen of hungry pigs to be eaten alive in a fit of irony that would surely be struck down by the Supreme Court as cruel and unusual punishment if anyone where to consult them before carrying out your sentence. Which we won’t. ‘Cause your appeal has been summarily denied…dirt bag. Go bust a fluffy somewhere else.