“Hey guys, watch this one!” The tallest of the boys pointed from where he and the rest of his buddies were, and looked on as their next unsuspecting victim sat on their trap.
“Prrrrtttt!” Out came the vibrating gassy noise from under the chair. Their latest victim, a tiny boy in long knee socks, became red with embarrassment as the rest of the class turned towards him. The mastermind and his gang tittered from their seats. He had been their sixth victim for the day, yet the trap didn’t fail to amuse them.
“Oh look, it’s Sir Mike!” said one of the boys. “Let’s see what happens.”
Sure enough, it was their history teacher, a large round man with blond whiskers and a shiny bald head. He plopped down on the chair, and, as expected, a fart came out from beneath it. But this was no ordinary fart. This was a thunderous one, and much louder than what they had expected.
“Whoa!” gushed the mastermind. “That was one big whoop! I wonder if he ruined the cushion with that.”
“Uh, no, he didn’t,” said his right-hand boy. “That chair didn’t have a cushion.”
The boys and the rest of the class discreetly covered their mouths with their hands and pretended that they hadn’t noticed anything.