The ultimate sneak attack. The unpleasant surprise. It was just a quick helping. A small serving. I barely even nibbled on the appetizer with the Johnson family last night. But you make your way home and eventually nature calls, as it always does. Then like an aromatic demon ninja, the odor hits you. Sharp and pungent like a throwing star straight to your nose. Your nostrils flare with disgust. Your skin between your eyes bunches. You protest but you are stuck on the porcelain throne for at least another minute. The asparagus pee strikes again and it has taken your innocence with you.
But seriously though. A certain someone who shall not be named sneaks asparagus in to freakin’ ev-ry-thiiiiiing. I’ll have completely forgotten that I even had asparagus that day and then sure enough you make your way to the head, let ‘er rip, and struggle for air.
But the worst is when you have it for dinner and don’t use the John until the next morning. Delirious and still half asleep at 6AM you make it rain, and then it hits you. That’s the worst because none of your senses were on and operational to begin with, and without warning your sense of smell is suddenly jolted as if by an 8.0 earthquake.
You asparagus! You screwed it up! Ah, damn you! God damn you all to hell!