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I’m a real estate agent with my butt hanging out. I walk around your house insulting it while letting out farts. I blame your house for the smell and the noise of the farts—I blame the cracks and creaks—when really, it’s all me. I try to go up the stairs, but my jeans are sagging so low I can't make it; I fall down the stairs, letting out farts as I go. Then I get my butt stuck between the wall and the table; I’m embarrassed and farting, yet I keep insulting your house. I drop my pencil and get stuck under the table trying to pick it up, letting out farts... The smell under the table is so bad that I start to realize it might be me. I want to get out of the house, so I sit in the chair to finish the paperwork and let out one big, nasty fart...