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Soda and the Ineffable Concoction
Chapter 24: In Seeking a Job Nothing is so Effective as a Letter of Recommendation

Chapter 24: In Seeking a Job Nothing is so Effective as a Letter of Recommendation

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When Kankersaur the Royal Flackfizer again looked through the Cosmic Telescope in the Fartmeister’s fartcano headquarter’s spacious home theater he exclaimed:

"Bad luck, sir! All the invaders have passed Vulcanized Village and now are fast approaching the entrance to our headquarters."

The Fartmeister, King of the Fart Ghouls, raved and stormed at the news and his anger was so great that several times, as he strode up and down his theater, he paused to kick Kankersaur upon his shins, which were so sensitive that the poor raptor howled with pain. Then he went to his private executive bathroom and made a huge stinky poo. Not flushing or washing his hands, the king went back into the theater and said:

"There’s no help for it; we must stick these dork-butts in the Poop Chute."

"You mean that huge tunnel dug by the late, great thaumaturge Ebeneezer Poop a thousand years ago?" asked Kankersaur.

"That’s the one!"

Kankersaur gave a jump, at this, and looked at his master wonderingly.

"If you do that, your smellyness," he said, "you will make the Veiny Mammoth very angry."

"Never mind that," retorted the Fartmeister. "The Veiny Mammoth lives on the other side of the world, so what do I care for his anger?"

Kankersaur shuddered and uttered a little groan.

"Remember he has powerful allies, including the ancient parameciums," the raptor pleaded, "and remember that he warned you, the last time you inserted something into the Poop Chute, that if you did it again he would take vengeance upon you."

The Fartmeister walked up and down in silence, thinking deeply. He let out a cheek-flapping fart.

"What do you suppose these invaders want?"

Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

Kankersaur the Royal Flackfizer pressed another button, this one marked with an ear icon. A slimy, pockmarked tube connected to the Ear-O-Scope extended from one of the five holes in the wall. He wiped the goo off the mouth of the slightly pulsating tube and put his ear up to it. For six hours he stood silent, in an attitude of listening, while the Fartmeister grew impatient at the delay. At last Kankersaur spoke:

"They are coming to rescue the Quantum Perineum from captivity, to acquire one of its toenails for an alchemistical concoction." said he.

When he heard this the Fartmeister uttered a fart of rage and began dancing up and down, rolling his eyes, clicking his teeth together and swinging his arms furiously. Then, in an ecstasy of anger he seized a petrified poostick from the bucket of petrified poosticks he kept by his recliner and hurled it at Kankersaur, but the flackfizer ducked just in time and the poostick clattered to the floor. The Fartmeister began to chase his servant around the spacious theater.

After the King of the Fart Ghouls had tired himself out chasing Kankersaur he threw himself into his recliner and panted for breath, while he glared nefariously at his defiant subject.

"You’d better save your strength to fight the enemy," suggested Kankersaur. "There will be a terrible battle when the robotic prince gets here."

"None of them will get here," said the Fartmeister, still coughing and panting. "I’ll pop 'em in the Poop Chute! Every man jerk-face and every lady jerk-face one of 'em!"

"And defy the Veiny Mammoth?" asked Kankersaur.

"Yup," the Fartmeister said. He touched some of the icons on his robe and muttered a thaumaturgic incantation and with a tiny “pffft!” from his butt the entrance to the Poop Chute suddenly became invisible.

The raptor went away shaking his head, for he thought his boss was making a great mistake. The flackfizer went to his quarters and began to work on his resume and writing letters of recommendation for himself, stating that he was an honest dinosaur, a good flackfizer and a small eater.

"Pretty soon," he said to himself, "I shall have to look for another job, for it is certain that the Fartmeister has ruined himself by this reckless defiance of the mighty Veiny Mammoth. And in seeking a job nothing is so effective as a letter of recommendation."

Meanwhile, Soda the Cursed, Chunks, Montana the Vice-Tremorroid of Bonertania, and the Ratsack Golem were getting closer to the Fartmeister’s headquarters. They were journeying along through a smelly, moist jungle when Cydroidobot the Robotic Emperor's son, who marched ahead brandishing his enchanted machine gun, suddenly disappeared. Before the others noticed they too had fallen into the invisible entrance to the Poop Chute. The entrance to the tunnel puckered shut behind them.

Suddenly they heard a loud booming voice. "Enjoy your trip, dork-butts! This will teach you not to cross the Fartmeister, King of the Fart Ghouls!" Then he blew a raspberry.

Our friends fell terrified through the musky darkness. They were descending the forbidden chute that led to the other side of Planet Sifillis.

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