Q2: When was the worst time you farted?

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By: Chris Lynam

A puddle of pee hit the floor.

Forget the test... I honestly thought the kid was dead. Peeing on any other floor would have been so much better.

But not this floor.

There was a framed 357 Magnum on the wall. On the shelf below was a hand grenade.

On the opposite wall was enough Kung Fu weaponry to make you wonder if there was a secret Kung Fu department at Costco.

From the outside, it looked like any neighborhood, single family home. But the garage was a dojo... and my neighborhood friend Jon had peed on the floor.

His floor.

Mr. Tanaka. But when we were in his dojo he was "Master"

 But when we were in his dojo he was "Master"

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This pee puddle had started with a test.

Tanaka had the voice of a guy that kept a grenade of his shelf.

"Horse stance, 5 minutes. Breathe... concentrate."

Let's clarify. The horse stance is a wide position with your feet, as if riding a horse... oh, and it's designed to make your quad muscles hate you forever.

2 minutes in and Jon, my neighbor, broke the strained silence:

"Master, can I go to the bathroom?"

Master: no.

30 seconds of bladder agony later he repeated his request.

Master: no.

Our quads were all dying and our bladder mirror neurons were going haywire watching Jon.

Maybe he was just trying to get out of the test?

Until a puddle of pee formed under his horse stance. It filled into his Kung fu shoes.

The poor kid wasn't faking.

After a moment of pee puddle silence... our test was over and Jon was excused to get cleaned up.

The following week, my brother and I re-enacted the story to everyone. We were a two person comedy act.

We mimicked Jon's face.

We pantomimed the pee flowing down his leg, into his shoes, and onto the dojo floor.

Neither of us dared to imitate Tanaka.

One week later...

Our step-brother Aaron heard the story and, wanting to get in on the action, got signed up for the very next class at Master Tanaka's friendly neighborhood ninja arsenal ("dojo").

Master Tanaka greeted our Aaron like a guy who kept a grenade on his shelf.

He pointed to where he needed to stand and then barked:

"Horse stance, 5 minutes."

We took our positions.

Naturally, we all seemed fixated on Jon and his bladder.

But Jon was locked in. No peeing this time.

My legs began to quiver and my puny pubescent body was fighting this exercise root to stem.

Aside from labored breathing, you could have heard a pin drop.

Then somewhere in my body's physiology, I triggered the tripwire to my rectum.

"FAAAART!"

This was not a grocery story squeaker you could mask with a faux stretch of your back, or a toot you could recreate with your shoe.

Master Tanaka's icy gaze shot at me.

So, like a Kung Fu master in training, I used my ninja skills of speed and deception...

"Aaron."

I sounded offended. How dare he fart like that and ruin my concentration for my horse stance test in the process!

Yes, on his first, and last day in Mr.Tanaka's dojo, my step brother Aaron was hit with my weapon of blame for a flatulence crime he did not commit.

Aaron was embarrassed, Tanaka was a statue of stern concentration, and I was a little ashamed.

And somehow, through it all, it was the kid who peed on the floor a week earlier that passed the test that day.

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