I Want My Props Back!

So I have been challenged by Mr. Damfino to match Deit's Muslim/Buddhist/Existentialist joke on my blog yesterday. He won't give me props unless I do, so I assured him I would have something mindblowing to earn the respect of my peers once again. I may not have achieved that, but here's what I came up with anyway. Keep in mind that many of the people in the poem are from different eras, so please don't mention that it's historically inaccurate for them to be together, because it is highly unlikely any of them liked chili either.

Ahem.

In a premise that may seem silly,
These authors sat down to eat chili
Nietzsche and Sartre sat inches apart
Lacan, Jung and Camus
they were there too
since they all enjoyed chili and brew

Lacan gazed at the pot which was poised for fiasco
As he went nuts with the habenero Tabasco
They drank and they ate and all was great
Until a quarter to eight, the group's bowels met their fate

First Jean Paul Sartre
let out a great fart
which pierced the air
and gave Jung a great scare

Nietzsche asked, "Jung, was that you?"
Jung shook his head and points at Camus
Lacan said, "Alright, come clean. Camus, was that you?"
Camus looked shocked. "No, I swear it's untrue!"
while clenching his buttcheeks
and holding back poo

There was gurgling in Jung's hindparts no doubt
who shit so violently his anima came out
"Good God!" Sartre cried, "This gas is as bad as Kant's!"
Jung agreed as he looked for clean pants
Lacan held his gut and ran for the door
with diahrrea dripping all over the floor

A stench filled the room
like a noxious perfume, their digestive tracts
were all but doomed

Nietzsche pinched his nose and loudly said,
"The smell of this room explains why God is Dead!"

Can I get some love now, people?

Come on!!!