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CRITICAL ACCLAIM"…absurd, rude, vulgar and better than I expected it to be." --S.J. Nolan"Seriously if someone needs a laugh, I highly recommend this book." --Cinisajoy"What man doesn't think flatulence is still an important, interesting, entertaining, even exciting aspect of our everyday lives? A man who hasn't been taught the fine art of bottling a fart, that's who." --Angry GamesPRODUCT DESCRIPTIONCelebrating the best of fart fiction, Donald Rump brings you four flatulent tales of love, betrayal and everyone's favorite green gas in one unforgettable volume.Intended for mature audiences. Approximately 11,000 words in all.BOTTLING FARTSCould the greatest power…The path to riches beyond our wildest imagination…The key to reaching the highest level of spiritual awareness and happiness……be obtained by bottling farts???"Shh…it's our secret…" Vlad told the little boy. "Use the power wisely…"THE CHAPPED-ASS CRITICZack Pimpton's ass never felt worse, and it doesn't help that his doctor is a part time comedian. Unfortunately, Zack is quite the bastard himself and accidentally says the wrong thing that causes the mild-mannered doctor to snap.GOING DUTCHBarnabus Prim has reached the end of his rope. Drowning in debt and married to an obnoxious wife who can't stand the sight of him, he decides to do the unthinkable. But finding a way to the afterlife proves more difficult than he imagined.MARRIAGE STINKSMackelroy Puggsley thought he'd heard everything until an odd man named Bilby Bloob shows up in the DMV lobby one morning. When Bilby demands a marriage license for his gassy wife, the old man puts his foot down. Sure, it's one thing to marry your high school sweetheart, but a fart? Who in the world marries farts?BONUS!Four Stinky Stories Vol. 1 includes the bonus story I Am Fart (approximately 1,130 words).
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Odsłuch ebooka (TTS) dostepny w abonamencie „ebooki+audiobooki bez limitu” w aplikacjach 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)
© 2013 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 © Roman Yakovliev (cover, #26123103), Zenihuddin (Bottling Farts, #18101651), Putut Handoko (The Chapped-Ass Critic, #10352988), Denys Fonchykov (Going Dutch, #10024679), Alex Pretelt (Marriage Stinks, #25599197) and Matthew Britton (I Am Fart, #21092413). Fart drawings by Mel Casipit.
The background image for I Am Fart is © Larisa Koshkina and used accordance with the public domain license found here:http://www.publicdomainpictures.net/view-image.php?image=34433&picture=the-house-in-the-field
First Edition (v1.1)
Published on November 17, 2013
Last updated on November 12, 2017
Also by Donald Rump
The Chapped-Ass Critic
I Am Fart (*Bonus)
About the Author
Ad 1: Till Death Do Us Fart
Ad 2: 20 Common Questions About Farts
To all those ravenous fart fiction fans around the world.
Henry Winkle wasn’t your ordinary pint-sized little bastard. He was an exceptionally evil turd who enjoyed taunting others, even giants that could crush his tiny Raisinet balls with ease. No wonder the miscreant was held back an entire year, and his parents had no choice but to send him to the Catholics after he was expelled from the public school across the street. Just two weeks at St. Agnes, he’d already pissed off most of the staff, notably the soft-spoken Father Amos (or was it Anus?) who embraced everyone, even demonically-possessed little shits who enjoyed super gluing nuns to chairs. When his parents received word of Henry’s latest exploits—swapping holy water with toilet water at the front of the church—they wondered if he might be better off at military school. Perhaps they should just load him into a cannon and fire in the direction that they thought Fork Union Military Academy was.
Hell, it was worth a shot.
So it was of no surprise that Henry found his nose again bloodied and tears streaming down his cheeks after getting knocked senseless by a child less than half his size. Perhaps he shouldn’t have told the second-degree black belt transgender student that she hit like a girl.
“Hey, little buddy. What’s wrong?” Vlad the ancient janitor mopped the floor.
Henry enjoyed talking to the old bag whenever he got in trouble, which was becoming a daily occurrence. Of course, Henry didn’t really like Vlad at all. That would imply that he was anything less than the antichrist. In truth, Henry liked poking fun at the geezer’s tacky plaid pants and man cleavage that bubbled out every time he bent over. Vlad’s hair looked like it had been spray-painted with a can, his eyebrows coiled wildly like pubic hair, and his creaky, old boots belonged in a museum. And even though Vlad wore a pair of thick bifocals, Henry swore that the old man couldn’t find his dick. Curiously Henry confided in him, which made their relationship all the more peculiar.
“Come on, pal. You can tell me.” Vlad leaned on his mop.
“I got in a fight.” Henry shrugged.
“Again? That’s the fifth time this week.” The old man glanced at his watch. “You’ve got to cut that shit out.”
“Yeah, I know.” The boy continued walking.
“So where are you headed? Need to drop off the kids at the pool?” Vlad chuckled.
“Nah, I’ve got to see the principal.”
“Seriously? You can’t do that. They’ll kick you out this time for sure!”
“Yeah, well...I guess it isn’t any big loss.” He gazed at the dilapidated walls and black mold streaking across the ceiling. “What do you think I should do?”
“Well, for starters, you shouldn’t get in anymore fights.”
“But it wasn’t my fault! Leslie accused me of farting and stuck her finger up my ass.”
“Are you sure it was a finger?” Vlad set the mop aside. “Anyways, there are better ways of dealing with those shit-eating little bastards.”
“Oh yeah, like what?” Henry asked.
“Well, you could just bottle farts.” The old man grabbed a bottle of beer from his apron and cracked it open. He took a swig and burped loudly. “Now that’s got one helluva bite!”
“Are you crazy?” The boy looked around. “If anyone sees you drinking on the job, you’ll be fired.”
“Nah, nothing’s gonna happen to me.” Vlad chugged down more.
“Because I’ve been bottling farts, unlike you.” He finished his beer and farted into the empty bottle. He plugged it with his thumb and held it up. “See?”
Although the hallway was dim, Henry could still make out the green gas swirling around inside. “What the heck is that?”
“I already told you. Now take a whiff.” Vlad uncorked the bottle and held it under Henry’s nose.
“Good God!” Henry shrieked. In his brief existence, he’d never smelled anything quite so foul. He shook his head and slowly realized that he was crouched on all fours, drooling on the dirty floor. “What happened?”
“What do you think happened?” The janitor plugged the bottle with a snot rag from his back pocket and set it in the closet. He grabbed another beer and swallowed down a mouthful.
“I don’t know. I was walking down the hall and-”
“And...I don’t remember. Wait, that’s right! I was on my way to the principal’s office.”
Vlad grabbed a penlight from his shirt pocket and shined it in the boy’s eyes. “Acute transient amnesia.” He stepped in the closet and scribbled ‘ATA’ on the label of his freshly bottled fart.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It means that you lost your wits for a moment and fortunately got them back. As it turns out, a little gas can come in handy when you find yourself in a pickle. That’s why I bottle it.” Vlad continued drinking beer.
“Wait...what?!” Henry’s head spun. “What are you trying to tell me?”
“Instead of letting people push you around, let them gag on one of your homemade air biscuits. Sure, finding the right recipe takes a little organization, experimentation and plenty of luck, but hell...look at me!” He polished off another beer and sunk a steamy squirrel in the bottle. “Oh, nice! Do you want to guess what this one is?” He sniffed and offered it to the child.
“Hell no!” Henry jumped back.
“Fine. It’s your loss.” Vlad forced the aluminum cap back on the bottle. “But if you want to be successful like me, then you’ve gotta start bottling farts.”
“But you’re a fucking janitor!” Henry wiped his bloody nose.
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