The Crop Duster

To: Office All
From: Betsy Flanders

Whomever continually passes gas in my row of office cubicles, please stop. It’s not only impolite, but makes us less efficient since we have to vacate the area for a short period of time while your noxious fumes are slowly evacuated through the building’s ventilation system. It’s rude and distasteful, so please don’t do it anymore.

-Betsy

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To: Betsy Flanders
From: Jim Connors

Betsy,
I’m not sure who keeps doing it, but they need to be blanket partied. That’s how we’d handle it back in the Army. The last thing I want to smell is the air that was recently inside someone’s colon unless they ate potpourri for breakfast and washed it down with a vanilla bean frappuccino before crop dusting our row. That would smell pretty sweet, even after intestinal processing, don’t you think?

-Jim

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To: Jim Connors
From: Betsy Flanders

Jim,
I’m not sure that eating air freshener would help with this problem, nor would drinking coffee since this person probably already does (don’t we all? LOL). I also don’t think blanket partying is the right answer, though I admit I’m not really sure what it means. But it sounds scary. This person just needs to stop.

-Betsy

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To: Betsy Flanders
From: Jim Connors

Betsy,
I don’t think I just heard you laugh out loud since you’re only three cubes away from me. Working in such close proximity to each other is like being on an airplane-it’s very easy to get into everyone else’s business (and easy to smell each other’s business too) LOL (did you hear me actually laugh out loud just now?).
Blanket parties were the vigilante justice that kept the Midwest together in the formative days of this country, but if you don’t like that method, how about getting torches, pitchforks, and other farming tools and running the “eau de toilet offender” out of the office like Frankenstein? Would that be politically correct? Or should we just make a false claim of sexual harassment and get them fired the way Peter was run out of here?

-Jim

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To: Jim Connors
From: Betsy Flanders

Jim,
I don’t think you used “eau de toilet” correctly. That’s French for perfume. And what did you mean by that crack about Peter? You’re being rude, Jim. I just want the smell of man ass around my workplace to cease.

There it is again! Whomever keeps doing it just did it again! I didn’t hear anything or see anyone walk by because I was typing this. Did you see anyone?

-Betsy

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To: Betsy Flanders
From: Jim Connors

Betsy,
I didn’t see anything just now except a polar bear pass by the northern window. This crop duster must be a ninja, so I’ll be sure to keep a suspicious eye out for anyone of Japanese descent. What makes you so sure it’s a man by the way? That sounds sexist. Can’t it be woman ass? Don’t females bubble the ghost occasionally? I know it’s not attractive to think about, but women take craps too, right? Unless you’re like a sloth and excrete waste through your skin as a defense mechanism to keep predators away (like Peter). In that case, you would be the perpetrator here, right?

-Jim

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To: Jim Connors
From: Betsy Flanders

Jim,
This has gone too far. You’re being mean now. I’m easily emotionally traumatized. We have a problem that needs a solution. No one should have to put up with farters in the workplace. Even if this person just went to the stairwell to relieve pressure, that would be better than walking down our row and doing it.

-Betsy

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To: Betsy Flanders
From: Jim Connors

Betsy,
I’m sorry if I caused you pain (isn’t that an 80’s song?). I sometimes forget how easily civilians are rattled, kind of like this reporter I knew in Afghanistan before he got injured (his name was Peter, ironically). I just want to help find the office flagellator before you’re permanently damaged.
It could be the person who’s releasing these air biscuits has Crones disease and is unable to regulate their bowel movements and is actually pooping his or her adult diaper at their desk. In that case it would be inconsiderate of us to label this person as a farter when in fact they’re sitting in a warm pile of last night’s corn and kielbasa, too ashamed to get up and go clean themselves. In that case they’d be the company pooper. What a nickname!

-Jim

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To: Jim Connors
From: Betsy Flanders

Jim,
It doesn’t matter what we label him and the thought of someone sitting in their own…#2…is just sickening. Whether it’s solid, liquid, or gas, I don’t enjoy the odor this person is putting out and we don’t have to stand for it. If you have a solution to the issue, please say so. Otherwise, just let me get back to work.

-Betsy

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To: Betsy Flanders
From: Jim Connors

Betsy,
Didn’t we all sit in our own poop as toddlers? Didn’t you make stinkies? And if by “work” you mean getting back to your chatting on Facebook, then go ahead. I’m going to take action. I’m going to set a trap for this person. You know that chemical they put in pools that makes pee turn green? I’m going to find a chemical that does the same thing to the air. When this person walks by stinking up the place, the air around him will turn a fluorescent green. Then I’ll throw a fishing net on him (or one of those man-trapper nets like in Planet of the Apes) and then you nail him with a baseball bat until he stops moving.

-Jim

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To: Jim Connors
From: Betsy Flanders

Jim,
Your propensity for violence is disturbing. First the blanket party comment then advocating we beat a man (okay…or a woman) until they stop moving? Are you sure you’re recovered from your time in combat? I’m not sure I’m comfortable with sitting in your row anymore.

-Betsy

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To: Betsy Flanders
From: Jim Connors

Betsy,
Recovered? Probably not. I once went to Dunkin Donuts and ordered a Boston Cream Pie doughnut, but instead I got a cream-filled chocolate one. It did terrible things to my insides. I tried to sit quietly in the store and enjoy it anyway, but the clerks kept going off in Arabic, saying something about the smell (of the doughnuts I assume) that was keeping the customers away. My friend (the one I told you about from Afghanistan) told them it was their own nasty body odor that made the place so foul, but they persisted. So I flipped out and beat them up pretty badly with a one-gallon milk carton (those things are heavy, huh?). It was really messy.

-Jim

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