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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)
© 2017 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 (v1.0)
Also by Donald Rump
Episode 8: Disempowered
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.
“Damn, boss. You look like shit.” Floyd Nutley, a certain evil bastard’s personal assistant and right hand man, took a picture with his cell phone and showed it to him. “See?”
Henry Winkle, Fleasburg’s pint-sized supervillain, knocked the cell phone out of Floyd’s hand and slowly sat up. “Where is she?” His voice was distorted through his black gas mask, his breath an unnatural raspy echo.
“You mean that broad who shot up your gas mask and kicked you in the nuts? I think she said that she’d love to stay and give you free rectal exam, but she had a plane to catch, or some shit like that.”
No wonder Henry’s testicles felt like a bag of eggs slammed against a concrete wall. But what the hell was this crap about free rectal exams? Unfortunately, that wasn’t the worst of his worries. “My mask!” He noticed the connecting tube had been damaged, and immediately began to cough.
“It’s ok, boss. I’ve already called an ambulance.” Floyd looked around for his phone and picked it up. Although he put on his mask sideways, somehow he was able to breathe and see out the side despite the toxic fumes lingering.