#31plays31days Y6 #25. A Fart in Church

fartinchurch.jpg

A FART IN CHURCH – A Short play by Paul Hagen

 

BEULA exits the doors of the church, fanning herself with the weekly bulletin.

 

BEULA: I wore my nicest hat, my nicest dress, my nicest gloves,

And on my arm, my second-nicest purse.

I had my hair all did up nice, ‘cause you know Jesus loves

You so much more when you look nice for church.

The temperature was lovely and just right for early May

The flowers blooming on the silver birch.

The sky was blue, the sun was bright, it was a perfect day,

Right up until it came: a fart in church.

My lady friends said nice things ‘bout my outfit as I entered

I was so glad I made the choice to splurge.

It made me feel so stylish and that made me feel so centered

The perfect way to feel when starting church.

But little did they know the stink that was about to happen:

They’d smell it and then to the doors they’d surge.

That familiar butt-trumpeting that comes just before crappin’ –

And it would happen right there in that church.

The moment, mercifully, came somewhere quite late in the service

In slo-mo, I could feel my cheeks diverge.

And even in those seconds I did get a little nervous

About the egg that I would lay in church.

I thought that it might make a toot and that would leave me blushing;

I had nt clue yet what was to emerge.

A vile thing — like several old jalopies all backfiring

Real resonant was that big fart in church.

But still the worse was yet to come, the thing that sent them running:

That left the folks behind me in a lurch.

And when I smelled it — I admit that it was pretty stunning:

The stink that came off from that fart in church.

It smelled like something left to mold in water but then fried:

Like waste from scientific strange research,

Like I’d grabbed animals that crawled up in my wall and died

And stuffed ‘em in my ass and went to church.

The congregation started — ooh — to gag and some just fled

The final hymn felt like a funeral dirge.

And ain’t nobody stick around for coffee hour to spread

The usual gossip that goes around after church.

I let them all go first — it was the least that I could do;

And now I’m glad to finally emerge

And take me one last look around, realizing what I would do:

I’m gonna need to find another church.

 

BEAULA looks lovingly up at the church — letting out a long and sonically varied burst of flatulence as she does — and LIGHTS FADE TO BLACK.

Advertisements

About misterpaulhagen

Editor-in-Chief of Metrosource Magazine - http://www.metrosource.com. Contributor to Sirius/XM's The Focus Group - http://focusgroupradio.com. Co-creator and Master of Ceremonies of the "Casual Fridays" podcast, which you can download free here - http://itun.es/i6t6b6 - Graduate of Fordham University
This entry was posted in Uncategorized. Bookmark the permalink.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

w

Connecting to %s