Bernard Melcher was a young man with a great future, living in the small town of Wellshire, Indiana. His parents were moderately well-to-do, decent folks. Early on, Bernard exhibited a bright mind and a knack with people. He rose rapidly in the little community, and at the age of 25 was nominated to the town council. A dinner was held in his honor, with everyone of note present. After a lasagna dinner catered by Puccini's, Bernard rose to thank the folks of Wellshire for their trust in him. He stood to thunderous applause, and as it ended, he was suddenly overcome by the aftermath of the lasagna dinner. He grimaced silently, trying to hold back a monstrous attack of flatulence. The crowd squirmed in their chairs as the silence grew unbearable. Suddenly, Bernard released a fart that had the impact of a mortar round hitting the hall. Attendees in the first row fell over chairs in their attempt to reach the exits, children screamed as their mothers searched for them, eyes streaming. Horrified, Bernard fled through an open window.

Ten years had passed, and Bernard was living in Indianapolis, where he had started life over again. After a series of menial jobs, ha had at last attained some measure of self respect again. But always his mind would drift back to Wellshire, a town that now seemed a wonderland of joy and promise. He decided that, after 10 years, he would return.

He parked his car at the end of a quiet, darkened street. He strolled down the lane, the smell of dogwood sweet on the evening breeze."Truly," he thought,"I was a fool to leave." He paused before an open window, smiling at the soft voices of a young mother and her daughter." Mommy," said the little girl, "when is my birthday?" Her mother laughed." Silly! You know it's August 14th, just 3 days before the Anniversary of Bernard Melcher's Fart."

Bernard drove away, never to return.