SFB

SFB is a creature that I have recently become acquainted with, courtesy of my lovely colleagues. It all began when my counterpart had an unfortunate encounter with some bad Chik-Fil-A at our local mall. She has always been someone who has had, shall I say, digestive issues, and unfortunately she has no problems sharing them with the rest of the office. After the Chik-Fil-A, the e-mails were flying between a handful of us, including my boss who was at a meeting off-site. Today, my boss encountered the same problems after his lunch...

I picture SFB to be a small, old gnome, with a scraggly beard and a low sense of humor. His little pointy hat is usually askew, and his clothes are a little worn. He carries with him a miniature bellows, bright red (to match his hat) with gold embellishments. The bellows is just as worn as his clothes, and the folds are just about ready to be replaced. SFB skips around, always looking for trouble. You may frequently find him close to a fresh crop of broccoli or some truly potent kidney beans. When he sees you, he becomes impish, mischieviously using his bellows to help you emit some of the most horrendous sounds and smells known to man. SFB merrily pumps his bellows, his gleeful giggle echoing mysteriously around his victim, forcing him/her to believe that madness accompanies their affliction.

I would wish that SFB would stay close to the greasy french fries or Indian restaurant, but unfortunately he likes to travel, and you never know when or where he is going to strike next. So, I suppose that we'll all just have to be on the lookout. Hopefully Smelly Fart Bags is too busy to visit me any time soon!