A bunch of us in my squadron partied hard that night at the local TexMex joint in Orange Park, FL. Lots of tequila, lots of cerveza, margaritas, nachos, etc. We pretty much closed the place down and headed home, getting rides from friends’ sober wives. But some of us had to get up early so we could head down to Daytona for the Twin 125s, Daytona 500 qualifiers. My buddy (Capt at UPS now) swung by my place in is single cab Ford150 to pick up me and my roommate (at UAL now, was my best man 8yrs later) at about 530a. All 3 of us are hung over as can be, still a bit tipsy, actually. I was sandwiched in the middle between 2 big guys that each weighed more than 225. And we head south towards Daytona. After a couple miles we realized we forgot the tickets, so we pull into a turn lane to make a U-turn to head back, right behind an Orange Park Police cruiser. It was a long light. While sitting there I let one go, in close quarters, 3 guys in the cab of an F150. Next thing you know, while I’m grinning ear to ear, both guys are gagging and they flung their doors open. My buddy driving puked. First and only time I’ve ever made anyone puke like with a fart. My other buddy graded me out as 9.5, said the only way to get a 10 is to make myself puke. 😂👍🏻