Ebooka przeczytasz w aplikacjach Legimi na:
Odsłuch ebooka (TTS) dostępny w abonamencie „ebooki+audiobooki bez limitu” w aplikacji Legimi na:
20 Common Questions About Farts
A Lonely, Wayward Fart Named Steve (Episode 1)
Date Like A Scoundrel: 10 Things to Tell Ugly Chicks on a First Date
Bottling Farts (English, Spanish, Italian)
Bottling Farts, Inc. Season 1 (Episodes 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9)
Crazy Authors Volume 1
Finding Floofy (English, Spanish)
Five Reasons Why Dating Hot Chicks is a Bad Idea
Floofed at 40,000 Feet
Four Stinky Stories Vol. 1 (English, Spanish)
Four Stinky Stories Vol. 2 (English, Spanish)
Going Dutch (English, Spanish)
Keeping Wind Laten and the Fate of the World at Bay
Marriage Stinks (English, Spanish, Dutch)
The $500 Question (English, Spanish)
The Chapped-Ass Critic (English, Spanish)
The Would Be Asstronaut (English, Spanish)
Till Death Do Us Fart (English, Spanish, Dutch)
Weekend Getaway (English, Spanish)
© 2014 Donald Rump. All rights reserved.
No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted in any form (electronic, mechanical or otherwise) without the express written consent of the author.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locations or persons living or dead is entirely coincidental.
E-book layout, formatting and design by Donald Rump.
Image(s) licensed by DepositPhotos.com and © Valentyn Pidburtnyi (#40453309). Fart drawings by Mel Casipit.
First Edition (v1.1)
Also by Donald Rump
Episode 1: Disheveled
My Two Cents
About the Author
Ad 1: Bottling Farts, Inc. Season One
Ad 2: 20 Common Questions About Farts
This book is dedicated to the original creator of the Eight Hour Fiction Challenge, Joe Konrath.
Kenneth Price knew from the horrid stench that death was lurking just around the corner. “Please come in, Mr...uh...” Ken coughed the fetid odor from his lungs.
“Wieckowski, but you can call me Vlad.” An old man with thick bifocals stepped in the office. He wore a pair of torn jeans with a hole in the crotch, and a tattered Redskins jersey with faded letters that barely spelled the name RIGGINS. Although Vlad looked as if he’d slept with Oscar the Grouch, he was quite fortunate. A good Samaritan had donated the clothes for his job interview; otherwise, Vlad would be interviewing in his underwear.
“You do realize this is an interview, don’t you, Mr. Wieckowski?” Ken closed the door and sat down.
“Oh yeah, sorry about that. You called for the interview so quickly I didn’t have time to get my clothes from the wash.”
“I called last week.”