It was raining when they lowered the coffin into the grave.

She had been declared death by every doctor out there, except for one blind fortune teller who insisted that she was still alive.

The rigor mortis and the maggots infesting her every orifice showed otherwise.

Yet the blind fortune teller insisted that at least a flicker pf life persisted because only the day before she had given a reading to the woman, whose name she said was Clara, and that’s exactly the way Clara looked and smelled alive.

Her relatives were standing over the grave filling it with tears as they said their goodbyes.

But the goodbyes were premature, for suddenly, Clara bolted upright in her grave and screamed, “Who farted!?”

Grandpa went red and started shaking…..

…because it was actually he who had farted. It was an unfortunate family trait. Oh, but how happy he and his relatives were to see Clara livelier than they remembered she had ever seemed. And prettier. Nothing like a little dirt and a few maggots to give a lass class.

She climbed out of her casket and hopped out onto the grass. Everybody leaped back. Clara smiled and looked at cousin Larry directly in the eyes. It was an icy, glassy stare and cousin Larry felt his hair stand on end…...

…which was odd, because Larry was completely bald. Nonetheless, he let out a whoop (and a fart) and kissed Clara right on her lips. Which was odd, because Larry was gay and quite averse to kissing women anywhere on their bodies, especially ones that had been lying in graves. And then fat Cousin Ralphie loudly announced he was hungry, was there food at this shindig?

Clara invited everybody home for a hot cup of coffee and some family chit chat. Nervously they all followed her home. The house already had a FOR SALE sign outside. She opened the door and everyone went in. They sat around the dining room table while Aunt Tabitha made the coffee. “There’s something you all need to know,” hissed Clara….....

“Our family farting problem has gotten out of hand, and if dear Clara can come back from the dead, we can solve this gas thing if we put our minds to it. Who’s in?”

“Maybe it’s your coffee, Aunt Tabitha,” said Clara. :In fact, maybe it’s your coffee that put ME in the ground.”

Letting out staccato-like farts, they all agreed to put an end to the gassy issue. The first things that would have to be taken off the family menu were beans, cabbage and all types of cheese.
Reluctantly each member agreed to stop partaking of the gas causing culprits. “One last fart, begged grandpa. I promise there will be no more.” They agreed and grandpa let rip a final time.

So final it was, in fact, that he died on the spot. Luckily, an open grave and a whole lot of hungry maggots were waiting.

Back to the graveyard they all went with heads bowed down in shame. Grandpa was sent off and the family went back home letting off silent farts that were absorbed by the chilly night air.
“Home at last”, said Clara.

“Anyone want a cup of coffee?” hissed Aunt Tabitha.

There were no takers.

They all went upstairs to bed and the only light in the room was a strange glint in cousin Larry’s eyes. How weird!

And the moral(s) to this intensely odd little Halloween tale is…

If you visit this family, avoid Auntie Tabitha’s coffee, keep an eye on Larry and Clara, and always take a Beano or two before eating dinner there.

Goodnight and sleep tight while poor old grandpa’s remaining farts filter out of his dead body killing the worms and maggots. HAPPY HALLOWEEN.

Back atcha.

Very nice, P and Z! The bold use of flatulence drew me in and wouldn’t let me go ;-)

That riveting tale kept me on the edge of my seat while holding my nose.

Another story?

Once upon a time there was a ghost who loved fart smell.

And so he lived his afterlife in despair, because he lost his olfactory senses when he died.

Pondering his condition, he considered his secondary obsession, music, and found himself seized with dread at the realization that merciless loli might deprive him of that pleasure as well.

He began experimenting with possession of living people and experiencing their senses of smell through the connection. After some searching he found a dwarf.

Unfortunately, the little person had a tin(y) ear. So the ghost started looking for another host.

The next host came in the form of a retired lady opera singer who had once been world famous.

But now she was a has-been, and having squandered all her earnings on meth, she now wastes away in the sewers.

Which is a rather good place to start,
if soon to be possessed,
by a ghost with a fetish for fart.

So the ghost enters the opera singer who in turn starts singing, her shrilly voice echoing in the sewers. We all know nothing is over till the fat lady sings, so on and on went the song while the ghost waited for a fart to emerge….

While the lady sang away, the ghost pondered his best fart finding spots, and decided to make her visit a frat house.

…but before leaving the opera house, the diva sang one last aria. It commenced with a grand fanfare of horns and ended with an even grander fanfare of escaping gas. The ghost was quite pleased with himself.

Having recovered from the illusion that the sewer was an opera house, she stumbled about , making way to a fraternity full of beer drinking fart blasters. She found a house in full swing, which could not be difficult on a friday night.

Upon seeing the shit covered homeless person approaching the front door, the republican party goers quickly drew their various firearms and started shooting at her immediately.

The ghostly possession made her spry as could be. She dodged the bullets, and snuck in the back door, to a shower where she immediately turned on the water and began singing.

But the NRA fanatics would have none of it. Outraged by this blatant trespassing, the house owner grabbed his sawed of shotgun, kicked in the shower door, and blasted the woman in the face.

The ghost within her was horrified, as the ambulance rushed the now comatose victim to the hospital. The woman dreamed only of her friends in the sewer opera house and a wonderful sextet

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0ItN6J5wSlM

She died within two blocks, so now she was a ghost too. She immediately jumped into one of the frat boys, and the ghost which possessed her jumped into another. She guzzled warm beer, and farted, while the first ghost stood behind, smelling and smelling.

START OF A NEW ONE: ” It was a regular winter night. The two night guards on duty at one of the local Walmarts were battling to stay awake. As they were trying to keep each other awake with old school stories…......

I didn’t think the story was done. Just because there is one more ghost?

A sudden popping sound came from the area of the toy department.

One of the guards went to see what it was. As he was pacing up and down the aisle….....

A transformer toy came around the end of the aisle, and walked toward him.

Right behind him was the Chucky doll walking towards him holding a knife and in front the approaching Transformer. He let out an almighty scream and the other guard came running to help…......

Suddenly faced with about a dozen knife wielding Raggedy Ann dolls, he realized he was in need if help himself. With a cracking voice, he called police dispatch.

As they were waiting for the cops to arrive, a Raggedy Ann doll dressed in black stopped the other dolls an stepped up to the guard. “Bend down buddy, I wanna tell you something.” The Transformer froze dead in his tracks and everybody waited. The guard bent down and Raggedy Ann said….......

“We are tired of the way things are, see, and there is going to be changes, lots of changes, see?” A puddle formed around the guard’s feet. Raggedy Ann shouted, “Air support!” and suddenly model airplanes were flying all around.

The guards ducked as the planes flew around. Out came the model trains and tractors and even the bicycles started wheeling themselves around. Suddenly police sirens were heard and five cops came charging into the store.

By this time giant teddy bears and stuffed puppies had mad it to the sporting goods department and gardening. They armed themselves with arrows, and rakes, and guns. The officers were held in place by the entrance.

Meanwhile in one of the dressing rooms an obese transvestite who had been waiting for nightfall to come so he could waddle off in a new stolen outfit was jolted into full wakefulness at the sound of the combat grew intense. A wave of PTSD overtook him and suddenly he believed he was once again in Vietnam.

In spite of his size, he managed to remain unseen as he made his way through the store to his objective.

He grinned, thinking of the spectacle he must be, a 70 year old overweight transvestite Vietnam combat veteran

As he made it through the exit, one of the Raggedy Anns spotted him and started running there.

In his halluciation, he thought Raggedy Anns was a Vietnamese soldier and drew his shotgun.

The doll pleaded for mercy. The Transformer got there in time followed by a police officer.

But the police officer was suddenly struck by an PTSD wave and thought that he was dealing with a gun-wielding bear.

As they fought morning broke and the first light entered the store. As if by magic everything went back to normal. The guards found themselves back in their original place ready to hand over to the morning staff. “Quickly, lets pick up all these joints before they arrive, what a night it has been.”

New story:

The morning after Halloween was a disaster. Smashed pumpkins littered the neighborhood, but not the yard of old Crabby McCrab. He had stood guard with his shotgun all night as revelers laid waste to the neighborhood. He sighed and turned to go in the house.

As he turned toward the door he suddenly noticed a large bedraggled looking crow perched on the railing of the porch. The crow cocked its toward at Crabby then muttered “got a cigarette?”

“Sure.” the man said, and gave a cigarette to his crow wife, lit it, and then walked back into the house. “put the trash out while you are at it, Crabby!” the crow wife said.

(When did the crow wife show up? We needed a bit more detail here, @ragingloli.)

Crabby was about to crawl into bed when the neighbor started up his mower. The noise funneled right into his bedroom and Crabby knew he’d never sleep with that racket. He wandered into the living room and flopped into a chair and stared at the wall. It had been such a long night. He was tired, and wanted to sleep, but there wouldn’t be any sleep for a while yet. After the mowing was over, then they’d be weed-whopping next.

@snowberry
the crow that asked for a cigarette is his wife
He finally had enough. “Annabelle (the crow), take care of that nuisance!”.
The crow flung herself into the air, and flow swiftly towards the neighbour.
With tremendous speed, her beak burrowed itself into the man’s throat, puncturing his trachea.
Within minutes, he drowned to death in his own blood.
Annabelle flew back into the house and landed on Crabby’s shoulder.
She moved her beak close to his ear and whispered: “For that, I want some great sex tonight, darling.”

“Holy Crow” yelped Crabby as blood from Annabelle’s gory beak dripped down the front of his imported silk pajamas. ” What have you done?”

“You know how hard it is to wash out blood?!”. Crabby yelled.
“Oh, do not worry. I bought a special detergent just for such a case. Besides, that is not even real silk. You got cheated.” the horny crow replied.

Crabby pondered the spectacle of his wife shopping for detergent, then glanced thru the window at the still noisy lawnmower wandering aimlessly through the neighbor’s vegetable garden. He glanced at the wife, and considered the possibility of a single blackbird “baked up in a pie”.

But only for a second, then he mentally punched himself in the face for even thinking this, as he loved his wife so much.

Besides she was quite literally a very “tough old bird”. “Did you remember to pick up my lottery tickets while you were out shoplifting laundry products?” he inquired.

“Of course”, Annabelle crowed, “they are on the table in the living room. There are some condoms, too *wink wink”

“Your libido will be the death of both of us” moaned Crabby. Already you’ve ruined the upcoming evening for me. ” It’s going to require a good 2 hours of backbreaking digging just to bury that noisy fool next door. Perhaps I can sell his lawnmower on ebay.” I’d better wait til dark to work on it. What if someone finds the body before then?”

“Well, if we can’t bury the body quickly, how about… cutting it into pieces, storing in our fridge and feeding on it?” said the crow hungrily. “Don’t worry, if you can’t eat, I’ll do it for you.”

Crabby whined in exasperation at his hungry wife “But butchering that old goat is harder work than burying him. Besides, you know how bored you get eating the same old thing day after day. I’m tired of trying to chew on these shoe leather tough codgers around here. Why can’t you kill us a nice plump tender 7 year old?”