I was minding my own business on the tube this morning, when i felt the familiar rumbling in my guts warning me that wind needed to be broken. This was not unexpected, as the night before i had stuffed myself with more chilli than a family of fat Mexicans. There were a fair few of my fellow commuters in the carriage so a pant ripper was out of the question. Using my years of training, i let fly a stealth pump that would have made a cold war spy proud. Unfortunately, the stench was akin to a dead dog that had been used as a latrine by dysentery victims and left in the sun to cook. To be honest, it brought tears to my eyes and made the corners for a Verucca treatment poster curl up and go brown. It was that dense that i could actually see it travelling down the carriage, reminding me of black and white footage of gas warfare on the Somme. Like this footage, i was intrigued to see what kind of damage it would inflict. I was not to be dissapointed. Victim number one was seen to twitch his nostrils and then to actually look around the floor, as if a shit house rat had crawled on and died by his feet. Victim number two did me a favour by wafting it around even more with his copy of the Metro, so much so that it woke up victim number three, who said out loud "Christ!" and looked around him all confused, as if waking in the middle of a nightmare. The crowning glory though was the female who went to walk on the carriage at Bond Street, sniffed, and walked straight off again looking horrified. In keeping with my kind nature, i let another off at the bottom of the escalators at Westminster. It was heavier than air and lingered like nerve agent at the bottom, while i chuckled watching people walk through it retching, as i rose higher. I feel much happier now. Please share your similar stories.