A husband has a real bad habit of farting all the time, daytime, night time, all the time. The wife, growing sick of all the farting says to him, "for God's sake dear, you fart that much, one day you are going to fart your guts out, you need to see someone about this". Hubby laughs, tells her not to be silly, it can't possible happen.
One Sunday morning the wife is up early stuffing a turkey for Sunday lunch, while hubby is upstairs, soundly sleeping in, with a chorus of constant farting every few minutes. The wife see's the dish of guts and turkey insides and has a great idea to scare the husband, and finally get him to seek help for his problem. She get's the dish of guts and gizzard and quietly sneaks into the bedroom, carefully pulls his undies back and tips the turkey guts into the back of his pants. "This will teach him" she said to herself as she quietly snuck out back to the kitchen and continues to prepare for the day's lunch.
A little while later, the wife hears a blood curdling scream from upstairs. She can hardly stop herself from rolling around on the floor in a fit of laughter. Finally, she contains her composure, and notices everything is quiet upstairs.
Just then, the husband, white as ghost, carefully makes his way down the stairs to the kitchen. The wife, barely holding it together again says, "what's the matter dear". He turns to her and says " you know how you said that one day I would end up in trouble if I kept up the constant farting? Well, you were right, this morning I let out a big one and it woke me up, and I found a mess in my undies, I farted my guts out". He continues " but don't worry dear, with the grace of God, these two fingers, and the jar of Vasoline in the bathroom, I got them all back in".
