Mark was reading a comic book and taking his morning dump. A knock was heard. "Mom? Whaat? I'll be out in a minute!" Mark complained. His mother Debbie barged in.
"I don't have a minute."
"Mom!"
"My bathroom's out of soap, get over yourself. I used to change your diapers, kid. There's nothing down there I haven't seen before."
"Just get out!" Mark cried.
"Don't you talk to your mother like that in my own house, young man!" Debbie ordered, grabbing some Febreze to spray the stench now beginning to form. "It stinks in here, what have you been eating? I know you get free food from your job but you should cut back on that fast food crap. Are you constipated, is that what's taking you so long to poop?" Mark's mom asked. "Can we not have this conversation now, please?" Mark practically pleaded. "You know I'm a certified dietician besides a real estate agent, right? Talking about pooping and farts are kinda my thing. Speaking of flatulence, remind me to get some Beano for you and your father at the store. With all the farting around here from you guys, you'd think the fire department would need to be alerted for a gas leak." Debbie joked.
"I don't fart that much!"
"I wonder if there's any difference between Viltrumite poo and human poo..." Debbie wondered aloud. "Seems to be a lot bigger and stinkier for one thing, I remember one time your dad clogged the toilet with a turd the size of my forearm. I had to cut the turds up into pieces." she finished.
"I don't wanna hear about the poop knife!" Mark wailed. "Just get out so I can wipe, please!"
"Fine, stinky boy. Don't forget to flush when you're done." the housewife told.
The End
