The Exorcism of My Butt (Short Story)

There are few things in life that make a man cry. The first glance at his newborn child; the first time that fat bully at school kicks him in the balls; or maybe even winning the lottery. But on June 6th at 6 pm it was none of the above that caused the waterworks for my superstitious friend Colonel, my girlfriend, and even me. It was a smell. Not like any other smell. This was THE smell. A putrid act of olfactory violence the likes of which even the nose hairs of Jesus Christ himself would be singed.

We needed a miracle.

It started when I was a kid, you see. A flatulence problem that was always misconstrued as a kid’s idea of a joke. But it was completely involuntary. My sister would chase me through the house after I had hit her and run. Each step would bring a buzzing between my cheeks like a sick engine trying to start. It grew into a silent storm of knock out gas that would spread across a room faster than it could fully escape my body. By college it was unreal–I’m talking a vomit-inducing skunk fest that really emptied a room. Shouts of “OH DEAR GOD” and “WHAT IS THAT” made us laugh for only a second until it hit us in the face too. I often joked that it wasn’t my fault. That it was being controlled by a demon. I mean, what else could make such an evil stench? I made up a demon trying to escape through a portal in my butt. Each attempt failed by a clinch of the butt cheeks. A hellish scent that could really kill had to come from the deepest corners of the underworld, right? Well, I was right.

On that day it started with a poot. It always started with a poot. That poot caught a few glances in the living room where just Colonel and Stephanie kept me company. Laughter followed because of the sudden abruptness of the sound until another poot shook the couch. There was a rumble and an echo as if seismic waves poured from my core. Stephanie punched me on the arm with her bottom lip sticking up under her scrunched nose. The pooting became a long fart and I know what you’re thinking. What is the actual difference between a poot and a fart? It’s the sound and duration. You see, a poot is a sudden burst of air that may make a sound that resembles the literal word poot. A fart is that zipper sound that’s…well… that’s just gross. And it was. A long fart echoing through the room with a wet ending. Colonel put a pillow over his face in terror and Stephanie got up and backed away from the couch.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” she said. The sound was muffled by her hands covering her nose and mouth.

Another fart covered the room with ick as Colonel fell out of his chair and into the fetal position with the pillow tucked into his face. I could tell his mouth was making that shape you get when you eat something sour. All I could think was surprisingly no leaks.

“I…I don’t know. Sorry guys!” I said with my shoulders raised.

My butt started to tingle and another taste of nasty vapor escaped. Everyone’s eyes widened–including my own. The next long fart was the scariest. The couch actually moved a bit this time as if a gust of wind actually blew out of my bottom. The episode of White Collar on TV glitched with the vibrations. Suddenly the room was dense with the foul odor of death. I felt heavy like I had swallowed a rock and the farts began to flow out rapidly like a little kid pretending to shoot a gun with his tongue sticking out. I ran to the bathroom and gripped the toilet as tight as I could. Colonel and Steph were coughing outside the door. Each blow of gas from my rectum shook through my body and into the foundation of the entire building. Lamps fell over and the beds rattled.

Colonel knocked on the door and shouted at me gasping for breath, “IT’S…BRIMSTONE! THERE’S BRIMSTONE…IN…ugh…YOUR FARTS!”

My mind could hardly grasp what he had said in time to realize what was happening before the hellfire poured into the bowl.

“What do you mean brimstone?!”




A black cloud encircled the bowl and surrounded me in the ghastly stench. I could hear a faint laughter from within the porcelain and my butt began to shake wildly.


The dark clouds formed gaseous sculls with glowing eyes. Each of them laughed at my pain from enduring my own brew. They made jokes and blew the stench back at me as they tornadoed around. A knock on the door made my watering eyes finally open again. My vision was blurry and my stomach began to churn from the odor.

“I got this! I got it! Ego te ligo in nomine Jesu!” Colonel shouted.

“What? I don’t get it!”

“Potestate Crucis sancti, potestate pretiosissimi Sanguinis Domini nostri Jesu Christi!”

I could hear water being thrown on the door. The skulls started to twist and contort as if the words caused them pain. Their long gassy faces cried out in terror.

“Colonel what are you saying–is that Latin?”

“Auctoritate sacerdotii mei et per intercessione beatissimae Mariae Virginis, sancti Michaelis archangeli!!” There was a pause. “Um…beatorum Apostolorum Petri et Pauli…Paulee? PAAAAOOO–LEE? Um…and et omnium Sanctorum et te impero recedere Alex et ire…jeez this is hard to say.”

Each word was drawn out like a child trying to sound out the syllables.

“What the hell are you two doing?!”

The demon began to scream from my anus as if the very fabric of time had let one rip. The walls shook while the stink of possession lingered on my skin like a thick fog.

“Steph keep throwing water at the door!” I heard Colonel scream.

“We didn’t even bless it! It’s just tap water!”

“Bless it while you throw it!”



The toilet started to break.

“Guys what the hell is going on out there?! Why aren’t you helping me?”

Colonel cleared his throat the best he could in the ick and started to chant again with a parade of farts after each word, “Ad pedem Crucis sancti sententiam tuam recipere!”

“Guys run!” I yelled with a loud roar of my cheeks right behind my voice. “I think it’s trying to break free!”

“In nomine…No…mine…nom–in–A Patris…I mean Pat–reees, et Filii!”


A series of evil gasses emerged from the bowl. My eyes poured with terror as the Dark One drew near.

“Et Spiritus…-tooos Sancti!”



There was a great cry of agony shrieking throughout the apartment that made us all cover our ears. A blinding flash and a sudden boom of a fart with a soft squeaky end. Then nothing.

I could hear the dust falling from the ceiling as my legs stopped shaking against the white thrown. I wiped the tears from my eyes and gazed around at the devastated bathroom. The tub had cracked and the sink had fallen to what was left of the tiled floor. I was breathing lightly to maintain oxygen, but soon realized that the stench was gone. I took in a deep breath and started to laugh with relief.

“It worked! I think it’s gone!”

Scratches on the door preceded a response, “It did?

“What WAS that? What were you saying Colonel?”

“Uh…well I was actually just reading the lines from The Exorcist.”

“What? Where did you find that?”

“I pulled it up on my iphone a while ago…I thought if it worked in the movie, then why not real-life?”

I started to laugh harder at how ridiculous that sounded. “I can’t believe that. Both that it worked and how bad you are at Latin!”

“Hey baby?” said Stephanie blowing the hair out of her face.


“Were your last words that you loved me?”

“People say funny things when their butt is being possessed.”


We all laughed as the wiring dangled from the tattered walls. The evil gas was gone and the devil in my butt had retreated. The crisis had passed and a powerful lesson was learned. Never joke about or underestimate the bowels of hell.

“Hey guys…can one of you hand me some toilet paper?”

Collectively I heard, “NO!”



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