I once had to lay on my back for a few days due to an accident. It was about five days, actually. At the end of the fifth day, I needed to turn over, just for a change of scene, and... God Almighty, the shtank stoirm that came roaring out of my mangina was fit to strip the paint off Heaven's gate. It was a serpentine hot air incident, a genuine black swan event.
A good fifteen seconds. It must have been lurking inside my dark places, seething, praying for an opportunity to escape.
And trust me, kittens: It escaped with gusto!
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