Yesterday afternoon was my bi-annual visit to my ophthalmologist's office, also known as Dr. Baker's Tower of Torture. I had my eyes poked. I had a ten thousand watt light shined into each eye. I had eye drops to dilate my eyes, and then an even brighter light flashed into them. The most hated piece of torture equipment in my doctor's office is something called the 'Field of vision test', where they make you keep your head stuck in a very warm box with flashing lights. With each flash of a light you have to press a 'clicker' to prove you saw the light. Halfway through this twenty minutes of hell the machine makes a loud beep, and the technician lets out a frustrated breath.
"You moved your eye, and the machine voided the test. We have to start all over again."
It was at this moment that Márkus' revenge hit. I had been trying to hold it back for over ten minutes and is probably why I moved, voiding the test.
I sat there and pretended nothing had happened.
Obviously I was about to explode, and couldn't deny that I had farted.
"Would you like to go use the bathroom sir?"