Not Smelling Like a Rose - or a Pumpkin

This person I know was at home alone doing the dishes. It was oddly calming, the house was quiet and cool. Being alone, she decided there was no harm in passing gas occasionally. Dishes almost done, she stood there tooting away and couldn't help but notice that her gaseous emissions smelled strangely of raw pumpkin. That was new. Sure, she'd noticed a hint of Doritos before, occasionally pork product, microwave popcorn, but pumpkin? Dishes finished, she started sweeping up the kitchen, still pootering in a lady-like way as the need took her, and the scent of pumpkin was definitely there.

This was really weird. Worthy of note, even.

Sweeping the debris from the kitchen floor into a dustpan, she opened the trash bin and to dump it. The trash was full of pumpkin pulp from the three jack-o'-lanterns they had carved the previous day.

It was with a sadness she realized her gas did not smell like pumpkins. The pumpkin smell was just too dominant and disguised the stink that surely existed.

There is no moral to this story or relation to writing.

The end.