My roommate had the ability to pass gas at will. (I know, I know....what a great gift, eh?) So, whenever the door-to-door folk came around, I usually let him handle it because passing gas at 20 is hilarious...to be honest, it's still pretty funny at 27.
He'd make a game out of the whole thing. He'd blame a passing dog, or he'd yell at us inside to 'keep it down' or he'd keep asking questions to keep the conversation going. Anything to see how long they'd stand there before making some lame excuse and run away. He kept the 'official' times on a dry erase board on the fridge.
"Sure, I'd love to hear more about Jesus and the Kingdom of Heaven..."
BRaaaapppp
"Keep it down in there, Mike....poor dog...he's got gastrointestinal problems....we think it's the dog food"
Bbbbbrruuupppp
"It's a chore, but we love 'em..anyway you were saying?"
The Mormons almost broke the 10 minute mark once, but I don't ever remember seeing them more than that one time.
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