Clouds of black swirled and turned,
As below, his bowels churned,
And his sphincter let slip a foul odor.
◌
When the twister touched down,
The poor man was spun ’round,
Forced to smell his fart over and over.
A Mighty Wind
Clouds of black swirled and turned,
As below, his bowels churned,
And his sphincter let slip a foul odor.
◌
When the twister touched down,
The poor man was spun ’round,
Forced to smell his fart over and over.
Buttercup's House 