Bump. This entire thread has had me in bits.
My high school had a strictly-defined social hierarchy that was naturally observed at lunch in the cafeteria as well. This vast, high-ceilinged room had a number of very long tables with attached benches running along either side, which occasionally resulted in the coolest kids technically sitting at the same table--albeit at opposite ends--from some of American secondary education's stranger individuals.
As a sociable inbetweener (
) with friends at both ends of most tables, I came to make the acquaintance of a number of these "lesser lights". One of them was a gregarious fellow named Joe who also happened to be a decent point guard and a bird-faced perv in his spare time. One day with a big grin on his face, Joe casually announced to those of us within earshot that he had set a few "tupper traps" that morning. Someone, it doesn't matter who anymore, made the mistake of asking him what he was on about.
You see, Joe was something of an afartcionado and his adolescent yearning for the forbidden fragrance was strong. So strong in fact, that to preempt any unwelcome flatulent droughts, he had taken to storing old farts in jars and labeling them for future consumption. As if that wasn't alarming enough, we stared in wide-eyed horror as he continued on.
When he ran out of jars, for a laugh and so that his worthiest compositions wouldn't go to waste, he would secretly commandeer examples from his mother's extensive Tupperware collection. Joe would position the container inappropriately, let rip, quickly close the lid, and replace it among the others in the cabinet. He insisted that "everyone likes surprises" and that farts had to "cure" for months before being "ready". Many of those tupper traps probably did too, only to escape one fateful day (if ever....gulp) and envelop an unsuspecting blood relative with aged putrefaction.
I couldn't look Joe in the eye after that day and I freely admit to giving the graduation party at his house a miss. Heaven help me if I run into him at a high school reunion. But without fail, I've taken a precautionary whiff of every Tupperware container I've encountered since the age of 15. I strongly urge you all to do the same.
