(In the living room about 15 minutes before Thanksgiving Dinner with 20 family members and Grandma.)
Gram: I think somebody farted.
Younger Brother: You know what they say Gram, they who smelled it, dealt it.
Gram: (laughs) That's true.
Gram; No, I was wrong, somebody's crapped themselves.
Me: Im shooting daggars out of my eyes.
Dad: Im shooting farts out of my ass.
(A little while later,)
When you're not home I'm going to fart on your pillow.
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