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.
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.