Last summer my brother gave me a pot cookie, and I was grateful until I realized that the chocolate chips had been ex-lax. The result of that cookie was a mind-expanding, ass-blowing session of epic proportions in an airplane bathroom. As I stepped out of that befouled bathroom to begin my march of shame back to my seat, the odor immedietaly followed, and in an instant my poo fumes enveloped the entire cabin. I was given every foul look and evil eye imaginable with one memorable sweet grandmother type spelling out a grimace of determined eternal hatred under her furrowed brows. Had I been a terrorist I would not have been so hated as I was on that particular airplane. Babies cried, small children became restless and a couple of the weak-stomached variety made appropriate usage of the airsick bags that the aircrew were thankful they had remembered to stock today. For the entirety of the flight I was treated as a pariah. The lowest of the low. The man whose ass had spoiled flight 523 from Phoenix to Des Moines. The stewardesses would not serve me, the fellow passengers would not talk with me and so I sank deep into my seat and stared at my knees in silence, already planning my revenge.
When I got home I called my brother. He was already laughing when he picked up the phone knowing it was me on the other end. "Ex-Lax, eh?" I said. "Good one." He continued to laugh, and then I told him how his little prank had all played out. I made no statements regarding vengeance, but he must have known that it would be inevitable. But not when, or how.
About six months ago my brother moved back to Iowa from the desert. Whenever we got together he was always on guard, but as of late I think he had almost forgotten, or thought that I had. I haven't. Last weekend I got mine.
The town next to ours has a great swimming pool with three waterslides and all kinds of cool shit. My kids love the place so I go all the time and this time I had asked my brother, Jesse, if he wanted to come along. I sweetened the deal with visions of half naked angels home from college on summer break floating high above the piss and chlorine filled pools containing a heaving mass of children who may have brought their MILF's with them for his perusal. He acquiesced and joined our family outting.
I had worked things out so that my wife would drop all of us off at the pool, so that we would be hopelessly stranded there when the humiliating scene I had envisioned played itself out. Before we left I asked Jesse to make us each a rum and coke in some large yet discreet water bottles so that we could catch a little buzz as we soaked up the sun. Allowing him to pour the drinks gave him a false sense of security, so that when he inevitably when to the john or the snack stand that drink would be there for me to use as the instrument of his doom. Within ten minutes he went to get some nachos and as hoped, left behind his rum and coke and...Viagra!
That's right I dosed that suckers drink with enough vitamin boner to shoot three or four double penetration scenes in Granny Fannys 4. Before long he would have a case of the longest, hardest and by far most embarassing cock in all of history. I acted normal as I noticed the medicine begin to take affect. He would turn his head down and then glance around to see if he had been inspired to heruclean feats of tumesence by some unsuspecting women whom he not conciously yet noticed. Soon, however, the expressions on his face shifted to alarm and he worriedly looked back and forth from his pecker to every other human being who he was afraid might notice his unfailing pants protuberance. Alarm made way for outright fear and shame only to finally crystallize into outright hatred as it dawned on him what was happening, and most importantly, who it was happening because of.
Neither of us said anything, and there was nothing he could do because he was trapped. What with his solidified love salami standing at full attention in his somewhat tight fitting swim trunks (that was just a blessing from the gods, i couldn't have planned on that), even attemping to move about would have exposed proof positive that a pervert was loose in the local swim park and an emergency ass kicking woud need to ensue by the angry fathers and husbands of all wives and children present. As he sat their stewing in the hot humid Iowa summer and uninvited libido, as he stated later, he was pondering fratercide by way of toilet snake up at the anus. He eventually was able to place a towel in such a way that he could somewhat safely retreat to a toilet stall where he admitted to having attempted to inflictpain on his own member in various ways to escape arousal, with no such luck. When he left the bathroom he decided to leave the swimming pool in favor of the surrounding park, only to find that a man with a persistent erection was alot more noticeable without throngs of fellow humans to minimize his presence. So he came back into the pool to await our ride and the passing of his stiffness. By now the worst of his rage had subsided, and what might have been his sense of humor posted stupid grins upon his otherwise dark countenance. Then again, he might have just been thinking about the toilet snake some more.
The details of this story would probably play out just as well in your imagination as I could chronicle them, so i'll leave the story at that. Theres is only one thing that I know. I will never be able to trust my brother for the rest of our lives.