Another Bullshit Barroom Story

I was flying.

I crashed through the window,
waved goodbye to my grandpa,
and was off.

Out in the great blue sky
the sun was shinning, but
the wind was chilly,
and the birds and dragonflies looked at me
strangely.

Of course,
I knew why
their beedy lil eyes
were judging.

I was half naked,
shitting
on a flying toilet.

There was no explanation for this.

There was no stopping it.

I continued on,
going wherever the wind
blew me,
enjoying the view
and laughing at my own farts.

Then, the toilet
stopped,
hovering
right above a police station.

Hello officer,
I said,
can you get me down
from here?
I seem to be
stuck.

Fart, plunk.

My poop fell on his bald head.

I looked down.

He seemed to be mad.

I tried to get away.

That's when he reached
for his gun
and shot and fired.

The toilet was bulletproof.

I laughed,
wiped,
flushed,
and flew to the nearest bar,
where I retold this story
just as I have
told it
to you.

I'm full of it?

Fuck you.

Fart. Plunk.

Not anymore!

Give me another beer!