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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 © Roman Yakovliev (cover, #26123237), Noppadol Anaporn (Captive Audience, #47736927), Valentyn Pidburtnyi (Butt-Dialing Bastard, #40453309), Karl Kotas (The Would Be Asstronaut, #10460376), Phaisarn Wongkulchata (Wind Laten, #71915691), Nataliia Natykach (Wind Laten, #12780416) and Andrew Grossman (Wind Laten, #38898187). Fart drawings by Mel Casipit.
Background texture for Butt-Dialing Bastard © Pixabay and used in accordance with the public domain license(s) described on the following page:https://pixabay.com/en/sunshine-rays-yellow-background-17828/
Cellphone artwork © Pixabay and used in accordance with the public domain license(s) described on the following page:https://pixabay.com/en/smartphone-cell-phone-149622/
Angry face artwork © Pixabay and used in accordance with the public domain license(s) described on the following page:https://pixabay.com/en/angry-face-emoticon-animations-33059/
Background for Floofed at 40,000 Feet © Dawn Hudson and used in accordance with the CC0 Public Domain license(s) described on the following page:http://www.publicdomainpictures.net/view-image.php?image=204107&picture=beach-wave
First Edition (v1.0)
Published on July 1, 2017
Last updated on November 12, 2017
Also by Donald Rump
Strange Words To Ponder
Cover: Book 1
Cover: Book 2
Cover: Book 3
The Would Be Asstronaut
Cover: Book 4
Floofed at 40,000 Feet
Cover: Book 5
Keeping Wind Laten and the Fate of the World at Bay
My Two Cents
About the Author
Ad 1: Till Death Do Us Fart
Ad 2: 20 Common Questions About Farts
Ad 3: Four Stinky Stories, Vol. 1
The more I do this job, the more I wonder...
If someone lit all of the gas being emitted from everyone’s bungholes at the same time, would the earth explode? Or would it merely smell like my ex-wife?
I guess there’s only one way to find out. Fire in the bungholio!!!
“You can’t be serious,” Barton Rinway lowered his Monday paper. “Well, it wasn’t me.” He shrugged and began reading again.
There was another floof, followed by the collective groan of the other three passengers in the elevator.
“If it was me, I’d have to be a world class ventriloquist—out my ass! Clearly the sound came from the opposite side of the elevator.” He gave an evil eye to the young, blonde receptionist who had recently started working at Rincon Enterprises a few weeks before. Maybeleine, he thought her name was.
“You aren’t seriously going to blame me, are you?” Maybeliene glanced at the three men in the elevator.
“Well, who else could it be? Oh dear...” Barton fanned the stench away with his newspaper. “Women are always the last to admit when they’ve broken wind. Over the years, they’ve brainwashed the masses to believe that they don’t fart because they’re women. But when you’re lying awake at night next to your new bride, the ugly truth toots out of her like smoke signals over your grave. Isn’t that right, Jack?” Barton read off his shiny, gold name tag.
Of all of the people in the world, good ol’ Jack would understand. With this blue overalls, he was obviously a working class man, and a janitor to boot. No doubt he’d mopped many a woman’s stall, and gagged at the odors left behind. “Wasn’t me,” was all he offered.
A gentleman on the other side of Barton, a lean, clean cut, sugar daddy with a black suit and tie, shrugged his shoulders and continued pounding keys on his cellphone.
“Well, that’s the end of it. Give it up so that you may clear your conscience and still have a productive day.” Barton folded his newspaper and tucked it neatly under his arm.
“But it wasn’t me,” said Maybeleine.
“Perhaps it could have been,” said Barton.
“It most definitely was not!” Her eyes filled with daggers.
Right then and there all three gentlemen thought the young lady was winding up so that she could hit the middle-aged man with all her might, but instead another air biscuit popped out and choked the crowd.
Abruptly, the elevator stopped. The gears above squealed, shaking the entire cabin before grinding to a halt.
“See what you did?” Barton shrieked. “The power of a female fart is unequaled. You could kill someone with those, even in your sleep! Unfortunately, when one comes barreling out, there’s little you can do. You just have to batten down the hatches and hope for the best.”
Another rabid air biscuit tainted the air.
“Would you stop that already? It’s not like there’s much air in here,” said Barton.
“Yeah, come on. You’re killing us,” said Jack.
“Fine, it was me. Are you happy?” Maybeleine glared at each of them.
“Of course I’m not happy. You took out the damn elevator with that thing,” said Barton.
“Help!” Jack cried and pounded his fists on the walls.
“Relax, guys. I’ve already e-mailed security. They’ll get us out of here as soon as possible,” said the man in the black suit.
“E-mail? That’s it? What if they don’t check their e-mail for a few hours? We could be dead by then with all of these frequent outbursts.” He pointed.
“I said it wasn’t me,” said Maybeleine.
“Wait...what?! You just admitted it,” said Barton.
“I didn’t admit to anything. I just said that to shut you up.” Maybeleine crossed her arms.
“So then it wasn’t you?”
“Then who was it? David Copperfield? Aliens from outer space? Fucking Quigley down under?” Barton covered his mouth, embarrassed that he’d resorted to profanity.
“I don’t know, I-”
The air broke again, causing all four to cover their noses.
“Good grief! It smells like something died in here,” said Maybeliene.
“Is that the female mating call? Exactly which hole did it come out of?” said Barton.
“You can’t be serious. That wasn’t me.” She cowered in the corner of the elevator.
“Maybe she’s right,” said Jack.
“Right? Has the stench fogged your brain, old man? She’s a woman. They’re always wrong.”
“And they’d rather die than admitting that they cut the cheese. Isn’t that right, my friend?” said Barton.
“Well...” Jack scratched his head.
“Well, what?” said Barton.
“You know that smell when you’ve accidentally stepped in dog poop in the backyard?”
“Well, it kinda smells like that.”
“Are you suggesting that she has a dead animal up there?” Barton exclaimed. “I wouldn’t put it past her, actually.”
Another broken air biscuit sent Barton’s mind spinning.
“If you want to clear your name, young lady, you’ll have to offer further proof. Hike up that little skirt of yours. Let’s make sure that there aren’t any other house pets onboard.”
“What?! No way!” Maybeleine shook her head.
Yet another breaking of wind made their situation that more dire.
“We’re losing air, quickly.” The man in the black suit looked around. “You’d better put a cork in it now, otherwise, we’ll-”
Suddenly Jack dropped to his knees. He wheezed in and out, gasping for air, before falling over in a pile.
“Jack!” Barton shook him. As he took in a breath of noxious fumes, he could tell the air was getting thinner. “Murderer!” He gazed at Maybeleine. As he stepped back, he stumbled into the elevator wall.