Gas Leak

Story Sent in by Steve:

Ciara and I went to see The Hangover Part II. We had bought popcorn and sodas, and everything seemed like it would go fine.

Before the film began, she sucked down her soda as if her life depended on it. I even commented, "Thirsty?"

In response, she opened her mouth wide enough to engulf the soda cup and belched. Her entire body convulsed with the blast. Her hand went right to her mouth and her eyes went wide. "Oop!" she said, "Sorry!"

Before I could say anything, she followed up her massive blast with a series of aftershocks: *burp* *ulp* *ulp* *bup* *barp* *braarp* *bup* *bup*

Her shoulders shook with each belch. Someone nearby said, "Oh God..."

"Sorry," she said. *ulp* *brap* "bulp*

She stood up and shook. She said, "I'll be right back. I feel like I'm going to pop." She ran up the aisle and left the theater. I followed her, concerned.

She ducked into the ladies room and I waited for about 20 minutes. She called my phone and I picked up. She said, "Steve, do you have a towel or an extra pair of pants in your car?"

"I have a towel. Why?"

"My skirt was... I just need something to wrap around myself, and I think we have to go. Can you run and get it?"

"What happened?"

"Just get the towel, Steve."

I ran to my car, grabbed the towel from my trunk, and ran back. I called Ciara up again and told her that I was going to throw it inside the women's room for her to grab, and I did exactly that. When she emerged a few minutes later, she was still in her blouse, but wore my towel as a skirt and carried a wet mass of paper towels in her arms. I guessed that her skirt was wrapped tightly within.

"What happened?" I asked.

"I want to go home," she said, "Would you mind?"

I didn't say another word about it, but we went back to her place. Aside from a single apology as she left my car, the ride was silent, and I haven't heard from her since then.