Once Upon a Flatus

While traveling on was the action required,

The view in the windshield was one undesired,

The rear of a van blocked the road outside,

It sure wasn’t speedy that crawl of a ride.

“I need to get going,” exclaimed Mister Red,

“But stuck in this traffic I am. Awfully bad,

It is for the wallet of worker that’s late,

Come on, move it now, I gotta get paid!”

He walloped the horn, and it hee-hawed at once, 

A cloud of fumes was the gassy response,

From van in the front - it disgorged with a toot,

The pipe at the rear did its best to pollute,

“Oh, that’s pretty rude,” coughed away Mister Red,

“This grade of emissions is toxically sad,

It’s noxious, it’s deadly, it’s poison I say,

A hefty old fine this compadre should pay,”

Those words he dispensed, and he pushed at the door,

He walked straight ahead to the van at the fore,

He banged on the rear, he slid to the front,

The dirty polluter he had to to confront, 

He knocked on the glass, and the window rolled down,

The rogue at the wheel sported one nasty frown,

His upper lip popped, and the bottom went puff,

He wiggled his sniffer and snored with a snuff,

“What up,” he inquired with self-pleasing smirk,

“Forgive me my sir, why you act like a jerk?”

Came back Mister Red, “Your exhaust is a crime,

You’re spreading disease, it… should cost you some time,

You’re coming with me, I will take you right in,”

“Whatever you say,” said the rogue at the scene,

He opened the door, and he stepped to the road,

His body was huge, and his shoulders were broad,

He winked, and he sneered, ”Boy… you think, you’re so smart,

“To you it’s a hazard, to me it’s an art,

The sound’s my weapon, its waves I project,

The deafening racket with smelly effect,

I’ll pass one that’s gentle, a whisper at night,

I’ll cut one that’s silent, but it won’t be right,

I’ll whistle, I’ll murmur, I’ll trumpet a bit,

But loud and heavy has got to be it,

My favorite option is one I’ll employ,

Big property damage will bring me such joy,”

The rogue carried on, as he wiggled his rear,

“It’s gonna come out, you better stay clear,”

He grimaced, he groaned, then he let it all go,

Intestinal pressure, the one we all know…

Its rumbling echo pulsated through space,

Its wave of destruction rolled on through the place,

The vehicles flipped, and the pavement got cracked,

The overpass fell on freeway that was packed,

With all the commuters - their end was so sad, 

“This jerk is for real and smells really bad,”

Remarked Mister Red, as he smashed into pole,

He slid to the ground and fell into hole,

From bad to much worse, his commuting had gone

He’s found his villain, the show must go on…