I was 16. I was enjoying the virility of my youth. Preoccupied with the usual indulgences of drugs and teenage girls, school was an afterthought. My agenda just didn't allow time for studying.
I had a pretty tight-knit group of friends that year, and our goal was essentially to get in as much trouble as possible. Dave was the humorist -- always doing everything in his power to get attention of any kind. Josh was the pharmacist -- continuously exploring the vast resources of pharmacopoeia that are so prevalent in high school. I was -- well, I'm not sure what I was, but we were a close group of friends who spent a lot of time with each other.
One night we decided to go over to Dave's house to sample some of the fresh greenery we had just obtained. Always the resourceful one, Dave suggested we use his garden shed to bake out. Hindsight being 20/20, I think this was all a ploy. Within minutes of getting inside the shed Dave unleashed a blitzkrieg of hot sputtering farts. The air was already thick, but now I could barely breathe from the rank vapors. We cussed at Dave and punishing him for his uncouth behavior by skipping him in the rotation.
We soon finished our blunt and stumbled inside, giggling like little children. We destroyed Dave's kitchen with a ferocity only seen in the hungry eyes of high teenagers. Dave was ripping so many hot thick pop farts it sounded like he was walking on bubble wrap. He claimed his poor dietary habits were the culprit; we ignored him and continued to eat.
After decimating our food we agreed on playing video games in Dave's room. Now what I didn't mention is that Dave had a 14-year-old brother named Mikey. Mikey was semi-retarded from an accident when he was a child. So we walked into Dave's room and started to play video games with angelic little Mikey soundly asleep on Dave's couch.
I had my back turned, looking through some of Dave's pictures, when I heard Josh suddenly start laughing hysterically. I turned around slowly, not wanting to disturb Mikey's sleep. What I saw was a disaster waiting to happen.
Dave was bent over with his pants and boxers around his ankles. His ass mere centimeters away from Mikey's nose. Dave looked at me with the devilish grin of an older brother and said, "Check it out, dude, I'm gonna rip one right in Mikey's face." I was glued to the drama unfolding in front of my very high eyes.
Something was amiss from the get go. Dave was grunting and making outlandish noises not normally associated with forcing out wet ass coughs. Beads of sweat fell majestically from the tip of his nose. His face was beet red with the excruciating effort being put forth. Then Dave's eyes shot open, his jaw clenched, and his body seemed ready to rip apart with tension. And suddenly a monstrous squirt of high-powered jet-stream liquid turd careened through the air to land on Mikey's face.
We all froze in complete shock and horror. Like a sweet little puppy having a dream, Mikey rolled over on his back and started to stir. None of us could believe the unholy act we had just witnessed.
Mikey brought his hand up and smeared last night's Salisbury steak all over his face. In a sad, pleading voice, as if begging for salvation, he began to speak. "Dave, what's that smell?"
Dave, not wanting to feel the wrath of his parents for his obvious lack of judgment, tried to cover up. "It's just the dogs, Mikey, go back to sleep."
Josh and I were affixed by the exchange between the two. Mikey, with the trusting love of a younger brother, fell innocently back to sleep. Dave ran to the bathroom and came back with a towel to wipe the brown chunky evidence off his brother's face.
I'm in the military. I've seen atrocities in my lifetime that no man should ever have to witness. And yet that night has haunted me for years. Never have I seen a wonderful pastime like dropping fluffy stink meat become so corrupted and nefarious. God bless little Mikey, for he knows not the true extent of the crime he has been spoiled by.