Folks, I believe I have witnessed a ghost farting. Yes kids, I truly thought that all my haunting experiences would be frightening, horrific, or even death-inducing, but no dice.
Yesterday, at work, I had gone to the bathroom to take a whiz. As I entered, I immediately heard someone in the far stall cut a big one. Being the gentleman that I am, I held my breath without as much as a grumble and proceeded to the urinals (which are located directly in front of the stall where my gaseous friend was pooping. So, I did my business all the while digging my nose into my shirt as to not smell any unpleasantness and went to the sink to wash up.
Here's where it gets scary. Into the bathroom walks a co-worker who greets me at the sink. We chat it up for about 3 seconds and then he goes to the far stall AND ENTERS IT! No one was in there the entire time.
Needless to say, I ran out of there and headed back to work as normal like nothing had happened. But I'm here to tell you now that when ghosts fart, it does not smell of roses like in the movies and them there books. No sir. It smells of heaven and onions.
My sh** don't stank,