I spring up and hold my shirt to my nose, trying to keep any more of it from getting in my lungs, but it’s already there, and I almost throw up all over the seat beside him. But he hasn’t moved, not one inch, and the drool below him has become a puddle all around his feet.
I lean in closer, still trying not to breathe, as Amy and Tim trail off somewhat down the train car looking very annoyed. His eyes are opened, and as I wait for a blink, my own eyes become dry, he’s not blinking. I slowly put my hand towards the front of his face, wondering if he’s breathing, but he’s not. And suddenly another scent hits me, the man has just pissed himself.
“Oh shit,” I shoot back falling into the seat behind me where an older couple has been sitting very quietly.
“Watch it youngin. Kids these days…” He spouts hoarsely as I apologize and get back to my feet.
“Tim, hey, I think this guy…” I wait to finish until Tim has come all the way back still swinging his arms.
“You better not be walking me into another fog of yours, that stuff’s lethal.”
“No, look. I think this guy just died.”
“What? Dude you’re stupid you know that? Guy ain’t dead.” He looks down at the guy, and slowly looks back up at me mouth agape. “Dude, your farts really are lethal. I was just kidding, but your fart actually killed this guy.”
“Shut up. I didn’t kill him, he died on his own, and I already said, I didn’t fart, it was him. The guy probably just lost control of his body functions and stuff.”
“That’s just like you, you know. Blaming other’s for your own faults. Take responsibility for a change, stand up for yourself. Hell bro, shout it at the top of your lungs: YOUR FART ACTUALLY KILLED SOMEONE!”
He shouts it so loud that everyone turns around or stands up to look right at us. Amy finally makes her way back over.