Whoa, Easy There, Bessie.

Here's an unknown but terrifically titled classic western.

The Lineup: An oversized cowboy, his fearless 1:2 scale sidekick, and the nice girl who works at the sundae shop on Miller Street.

Fart Factor: Pretty huge with that title. Man, if it was just that title against the cloud background, I would have already said 20 out of 10.

Most Likely Fart Suspect: That wasn't a fart. One of the rancher's cows shit outside your bedroom window.

Sitting In the Back Pew.

The lineup: The always-pissed Ice Cube, the always-working- blue Katt Williams, and the always-making-that-smirk Tracy Morgan.

Fart Factor: 9.3 out of 10. The room is electric with accusation, insinuation, and fresh beef. Katt Williams wishes he weren't so short and close to the ground. Tracy gives a knowing look, telling someone to fess up. Ice Cube ain't havin' it.

Most likely fart suspect: Not Katt. Not Tracy. But I'll be damned if I'm going to accuse someone who was known to have said

I'm meaner than a mutha-fucking hyena, chasing antelope
Put a chrome to your dome, watch it bust like a cantaloupe

Fuck it. YOU tell him.