Jesse didn’t know it now but these two words would go on to become the primary reason why he should have told his Auntie he was making fun of her that day, and not trying to emulate her.
If Jesse had a stomach made of cast iron he may be, and let u stress the words MAY BE, able to handle the Gator Crawl; a jambalaya whose base was Carolina Reaper peppers and spicy shrimp designed to overwhelm your sense of taste. It was a right of passage for Laurie and her sisters. Almost every sister in the sorority would shit for hours after just a few spoonfuls and at least two of the sorority sisters had literally farted themselves to death.
Anna Belle enjoyed a pot full at least once a month with barely a mild increase on her ever-present flatulence.
Jesse, dressed up as Jesse Belle, looked around the garden party that Laurie had forced him to attend and saw all the different generations of sorority sisters who had gathered to see the woman who had dared to take on the Gator Crawl by herself.
“I’m so fucked,” Jesse Belle gulped. She went to check out the size of the pot and needed to fan herself off from the very heat that it gave off. Even half a teaspoon would make him fart like Aunt Anna Belle, maybe even two Anna Belle’s.
“Thinking about how you’re so, well, screwed?” Laurie sauntered up and giggled. “Id say about as much as a lady of the night in a prison, sugah.” Her little laugh angered Jesse; it was so rich with condescension and derision. “Now hurry, everyone is waiting on you after all.” Her laugh trailed behind her as she ambled to her seat of honor.
Jesse looked to the Gator Crawl and grumbled. He fixed the bust of his fat suit and resigned himself to his fate. “Fuck it, if I eat enough of this stuff I’ll end up in the hospital and hopefully I can convince Auntie Anna Belle that I’m not worthy of being Jesse Belle.” He poured himself a bowl and sauntered his way back to his seat, unfortunately next to Laurie.
The crowd went silent as Jesse Belle sat down and raised her spoon. Jesse Stare at the crowd staring back at him as she lowered his spoon and brought it to just before his lips. The crowd collectively inhaled sharply. Jesse Belle wondered why. He held out his pinky finger. The crowd collectively sighed. And Jesse Belle took her first bit of the Gator Crawl.
Jesse Belle’s eyes went wide.
His mouth contorted.
And his life changed forever.
“Ah say!” his southern accent kicking in, “Ah can honestly declare that this here Gator Crawl is more delicious that a deep fried southern comfort meal! It may be the single most delicious meal I have evah had!” A raucous and rank fart flew from between Jesse Belle’s legs and instead of the embarrassment he had felt before he felt a sense of pride and relief, “Even my Dairy-Aire is having a southern good time with it!”
Laurie's jaw dropped to the table as she watched Jesse Belle Hoover up the Gator Crawl like the southern belle he was pretending to be. She could barely pick her jaw up as Jesse Belle went back for seconds, thirds, and more. The constant apologies for her farting, breaking wind cutting the cheese, whatever you wanted to call it al began to blur together. Her plan to embarrass Jesse Belle and hold him up to the world as a fake had failed, and might have even solidified Jesse Belle into a real southern lady.
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