"Roller derby? Wow! I could never play that...mostly because of the little shorts and fish net stockings".
*stomach rumbles*
Oh. Sweet. Jesus. I shouldn't have eaten all those Icy Squares.
Oh no...oh NO...OH no!
I gotta fart.
Hold it in. Hold it in. Holditin. Holditinholditinholditin.
This isn't like those times when you're in an aisle in Superstore with two other people and you can let it go and let everyone blame everyone else. There's only you and her and unless she's missing half her brain, she's going to know it was you.
*rumble grumble rumble*
Nonononononononononono
*mweeeeeeeeettttttt*
Well, on the upside, it was silent. Phew. Maybe there won't be any smell with it.
OHFORTHELOVEOFGOD...get me a gas mask!
Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit.
Grab that binder and hold it in front of your crotch. That will TOTALLY block the smell from emanating outside of the till area.
*waves binder back and forth slightly in a vain attempt to pull the smell back towards self*
Are you insane?!? Now you're just pushing the smell around!!
She knows it was you. She knows it was you. She knows it was you.
Wouldn't that be funny if you pulled a Homer Simpson and you started speaking your internal thoughts?
Wait....am I talking out loud? She's stopped talking...I have to respond to whatever it was she said last. OHMYGOD THIS SMELL IS INTENSE. Don't say that.
"Web design? I've always been interested in that...that must be so much fun!"
Annnd she's talking again...phew. I commented correctly.
That smell. Oh for the love of all that's holy...why won't it dissipate? Why is she even she still in here? HOW is she still standing? I was ready to pass out two minutes ago.
*rumble rumble rumble*
Oh god. Here comes another.
And I don't think it's just a fart.
Don't shit your pants. Don'tshityourpants. Don'tshityourpantsdon'tshityourpantsdon'tshityourpants.
Please go, lady. Please go NOW. You're very interesting, but I don't need bad word of mouth spreading about the crazy store owner who shits her own pants and pretends like nothing has happened.
*fffffffffmmmmmmwwwweeeetttturrrrrlllaapppp*
Oh thank god for another silent one.
Lady, if you can withstand the odiferous power of the Icy Square fart AND not take the hint to leave, you deserve to be bombarded with round two.
But please leave. Please?
She's stopped talking again. Respond back.
"It is a lot of work, but it doesn't feel like that to me...I've turned all of my hobbies and passions into my job".
Safe for another minute.
How do I get her to leave? I can't shit my pants in front of someone. Not again. Think. Think. Think.
"Well, I shouldn't keep you from your errands...you sound like you're a busy lady!"
IT WORKED! She's picking up her purse! Oh Hallelujah! She's leaving! She's leaving!
You know she's never coming back, right?
Shut up brain...right now, I don't care. I've got some paper work to do. Ba dum dum ching!
Wow...even when faced with possibly soiling yourself, you still find the time to crack jokes.
"Thanks so much! Have a great night!"
I know I'm about to....
.....annnnndddd end scene.
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