You two were at a nice restaurant for a dinner date. Gaz’s face scrunched up a bit.

You asked him, “What’s wrong?”

“I might need a blow one.” Gaz says.

“Blow?” You echoed.

“Fart, love.” Gaz answers.

You replied amused, “Go for it.”

Relieved at your words, he lets out a silent but deadly one. You continued to speak, “I wonder who’s it going to hit first.” Gesturing to the three older men in suits behind our table and in the line of fire to Gaz’s fart.

The first one started gagging, second one was in tears, and third cried, “Who could’ve done this to us?!”

As the both of you held back a laugh.