Walking into an ultra-exclusive jewelry store requires a certain level of poise, elegance, and—most importantly—absolute muscle control.

A well-dressed lady was browsing the glittering displays of a high-end boutique when a magnificent, multi-carat diamond bracelet caught her eye. Completely captivated, she leaned deeply over the glass casing to inspect the flawless craftsmanship up close.

Unfortunately, the sudden bending motion caused a sharp, involuntary, and completely unscripted betrayal from her digestive tract. She broke wind.

Horrified, her heart skipped a beat. She froze in place, her eyes darting frantically around the silent, marble-floored showroom. She prayed to the retail gods that the soft ambient jazz music had masked her acoustic accident, desperately hoping no one was nearby.

Slowly, she straightened up, only for her worst nightmare to materialize. Standing mere inches behind her was an impeccably tailored salesman.

Cool as a cucumber and displaying the absolute pinnacle of five-star professionalism, the man smiled warmly. “Good afternoon, Madam. How may we assist you on this fine day?”

Blushing furiously, but desperately clinging to the tiny hope that he had just walked up, she cleared her throat and pointed a trembling finger at the display. “Sir, could you please tell me the price of this lovely bracelet?”

The salesman didn’t blink. He leaned in slightly and whispered, “Madam, if you farted just looking at it, you are going to absolutely shit yourself when I tell you the price.”