Just then, her name was called. (Talk about bad timing...!) Quickly she licked her hands clean and wiped them on her pantsuit. Taking a deep breath, she entered the boardroom, conscious to do so in her most prim, ladylike manner.
Now, I should mention that Egg Jenny's giant wool underpants were being mended, so she'd had to wear her tighter red ones this week. Consequently she'd had to make use of her "natural spaces" for extra egg storage.
I suppose the astute reader has already surmised what happened next. The pre-interview snack had of course created a vacuum in Egg Jenny's drawers. Result: a portion of the egg salad was sucked out of her vagina--right as she walked in, as luck would have it--and into her now less-full panties, causing a squelching, fart-like sound to reverberate through the room. Even worse, Fate chose that moment to dislodge a series of hissing burps from the depths of her intestines--whereupon the air soon became redolent of this morning's salami-and-cream-cheese omelet. Traces of tuna fish were also undeniably present.
Egg Jenny's shoulders began to shake uncontrollably.