"Here, take my credit card" Rikishi told his husband, Mystere. "When I get home from wrestling tonight I expect the pantry and fridge to be stocked full of groceries and for dinner to be on the table". "Yes, sir" Rikishi's house husband replied, accepting the card. "I'll get right on that". "Be sure you do" Rikishi warned, a stern look on his face. "If not there will be NO spankings for you tonight".
Then Rikishi turned to leave. "I've got a long day of wrestling ahead of me" he remarked as he headed off to work. Mystere heard the door slam. Several minutes passed as Mystere pondered his day. "Well, I better get going" he declared. "You be a good boy, Buttstink" Mystere informed the mangy mongrel cowering in the corner.
"Let me get one last huff before I depart", Mystere said, crouching down next to Buttstink's posterier. "Come on, one fart for daddy" Mystere coaxed. Unfortunately no toots were forthcoming. "Damn you, Buttstink" Mystere roared, kicking the canine cruely in the ribs. "I'll have to pick up some more beans today".
Mystere left the house and jumped in his pink Chevy, the Pinkie Toot Toot. Turning the key, the engine roared to life, then sputtered. Mystere stepped on the gas, flooring it. The car lurched forward. "Opps" Mystere said, throwing the Pinkie Toot Toot into reverse. Pulling out of his driveway Mystere headed toward the highway. "I think I'll stop by the Ralphs shopping center" Mystere decided.
Eventually Mystere pulled the Pinkie Toot Toot into the parking lot of the shopping center (conveniently located right off the highway). Mystere jumped out of his Pink Chevy and strode toward the front entrance of Ralphs. "Let's get this over with" Mystere whined, taking a shopping cart from the front of the store. "Beans, beans, beans" Mystere muttered, rolling his cart down the aisle.
Locating the canned brown beans, Mystere swept a dozen cans of the cheapest beans he could find into the cart. "These beans should produce some excellent flatulence from Buttstink" Mystere said hopefully. "I need farts to get me through the day while Rikishi is at work... and beans are, as I recall, a magical fruit".
"Now what to fix for dinner", Mystere wondered. He settled on some nice juicy steaks. "I'll take some of your finest beef" Mystere informed the butcher. "Beef" Mystere repeated, giggling. "Excuse me, sir" the confused butcher inquired. "This one here" Mystere commanded, pointing to an expensive prime rib. Then he spotted a young Black male carrying a basket containing a bottle of Sprite and a bag of Jolly Ranchers (among other items).
"Geez, that j!g is probably going to shoplift some codeine so he can brew up some Purple drank" Mystere deduced. "The codeine is behind the pharmacy counter. You need to show an ID to buy it" the butcher said, placing Mystere's prime rib on the butcher's scale. "How much of this do you want, sir?" he asked.
"I'll take 2 pounds" Mystere informed the man behind the counter. Wandering away from the butcher, Mystere walked up behind the African American teen. Mystere noted that he was looking intently at items on the shelf. "Time for a sink bomb" Mystere decided. Clenching his buttcheeks, Mystere prepared to let loose a nasty and massive ass gas attack. A small puff of noxious vapor escaped Mystere's anus.
"Not good enough. Come on Mystere, you can do better". Mystere pushed hard, expecting the result to be a rip roaring fart and gas cloud. Instead the result was a explosion of liquid diarrhea. "Oh, gross" the Black teen said, turning. "Did you just shit your pants, man?". The Black youth chuckled. "Yo, check it out, this guy just sh!t himself!". Several other Black youths approached. Some of them pointed and laughed.
Embarrassed, Mystere ran back to the butcher's counter to retrieve his cart. "Your prime rib, sir" the butcher reminded Mystere. "Yeah, I'll take that" Mystere replied, grabbing the wrapped meat and placing it in his cart. But the Black youths followed him, snickering and making jokes. "Get away from me", Mystere cried.
"This guy pooped his pants!" one of the Black youths laughed, pointing at Mystere. Finally, after a few minutes of this, a manager approached. "Is there a problem gentlemen?". "No problem" one of the youths mumbled, walking away. With the Black youths dispersed, the manager turned to Mystere. "What is that HORRIBLE smell!" the manager exclaimed, wrinkling up his nose.
"Those j!gs were harassing me" Mystere complained. "Sir, it appears as though you've shit yourself" the manager concluded after noticing a stream of brown liquid running down Mystere's pant leg and pooling on the floor. "Oh, my God! That's disgusting!" the disgusted manager remarked. Mystere smiled and shrugged his shoulders. "I think you should leave" the manager suggested.
"But I'm not done shopping" Mystere protested. "Regardless, I'm still going to have to ask you to leave. NOW", the manager insisted. "Hold on, Gary" Mystere shot back (noting what was printed on the manager's name tag). "I will leave, but AFTER I've finished my grocery shopping".
Then Gary got a whiff of Mystere's breath. "Ewww! Your breath, it smells like... a thousand stinky farts" Gary decided, a look of extreme revulsion on his face. The manager stepped back to distance himself from Mystere. He pinched his nose between his fingers. "I'm going to get the janitor to clean this up" he said. "When I get back I want you OUT of here" Gary demanded, staring at Mystere through watery eyes.
"Fine!" Mystere yelled angrily. But back out in his car, Mystere laughed. "I got that young punk good" Mystere chuckled, remembering the look of disgust on the punk's face. There was another grocery store down the street a few miles. Mystere decided he'd go there to do his shopping. But first a trip back home to change into some fresh underwear and slacks.
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