Minutes ago, I awoke with tears of laughter streaming down my face. I immediately shook Sylvia into consciousness to tell her about the beautiful dream I've just had, and now I'm sharing it with you.
In the dream, Sylvia and I arrive in the far future in a time machine. We step out of the machine and see a small village of naked or near-naked humans, living happily in an idyllic garden paradise. Gorgeous violet mountains loom in the distance; a crystal clear river runs through the centre of the community; trees dripping with fruit provide bounty and shade from a warm, bright sun. Every person is beautiful, friendly and peaceful; some have genetically engineered themselves to take the form of centaurs or satyrs. But though they have learned much and built a utopia, so too have they forgotten many things about the past and about themselves. One handsome blonde gentleman approaches us to ask about a great mystery of long standing:
"Excuse me, but do you know why all people have a hole in their bum? It doesn't do anything."
Surprised, I immediately realize that these people of the future must have evolved to the point where they don't need to defecate anymore, processing their food with one hundred percent efficiency. I explain that people of the past used the orifice to expel solid waste.
"Ah!" the man cries. "A vestigial organ, then - useless to us now."
"Well, not so useless," I reply, with a gleam of mischief in my eye. "Watch this."
Then, squinting, grimacing and bearing down, I let loose a tremendous fart, much to the amazement of the crowd.
"Earl!" Sylvia gasps, appalled. To her horror, the villagers are intrigued, and I teach them how to explosively pass gas, comically holding my nose closed with my fingers and blowing to produce the loudest possible blast. Soon the entire village population is producing a cacophony of noise; it turns into a symphony of sorts, toots of different tenors and tones echoing across the valley. I'm laughing so hard I can't breathe, clutching my sides. Sylvia, meanwhile, is completely disgusted by my behaviour, my corruption of Eden, comically sighing and rolling her eyes.
There ended the dream, and my eyes are still wet from laughter. Sylvia groggily summed it all up, half-asleep:
"We travel to the future, and that's your contribution."
Oh the joy to be able to fart without having to worrying about sharting. Truly a utopia.
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