image [https://i.ibb.co/yhF9p4B/130b.jpg]
“There’s something I haven’t told you guys,” Montana Shingles, the 20 year old Vice-Tremorroid of Bonertania said to her friends Soda Olheiser and the Ratsack Golem. “In my pocket is the enchanted speculum."
"The one that makes anyone you point it at suddenly love you unconditionally?" asked the sack of rats.
"The same. I’ll just go in there, point it at King Fartmeister, and we’ll have the Quantum Perineum free in no time."
"Why didn’t you mention this before!?" shouted Soda, throwing her hands up in the air. Then she added, “Sorry, I didn’t mean to shout.”
"Rumple told me not to use the speculum unless absolutely necessary as the battery is almost completely dead and there’s no known way to recharge it. "
This dialog was heard by Kankersaur, the Fartmeister’s flackfizer, who was listening through the Ear-O-Scope. He repeated what our friends had said to his boss, who at once realized that his dominion was in grave danger. For the Fartmeister knew of the Dirty Wanderer’s speculum and its powers and was horrified at the thought that the vice-tremorroid might show it to him and turn all the hatred in his heart into love. The Fartmeister was proud of his hatred and abhorred love of any sort.
"Really," said he, "I’d rather be conquered and lose all my farts and sharts than gaze at that awful speculum."
Meanwhile our heroes were slowly approaching the entrance to the Fartmeister’s fartcano headquarters. Soda and Mono had put clothespins over their noses in anticipation of the mephitic fart stench within. Soda’s mouth was dry and she was sweating yet cold at the same time. She had never been this scared in her life. Mono reached over and squeezed Soda’s hand and gave her an encouraging smile.
The front doors to the headquarters were like the doors on a mega mall and they opened automatically when our friends came near them, accompanied by a “ding!”. They entered a spacious lobby with a row of elevators on one side, a long hallway on the other, and the entrance to the Fartmeister’s home theater straight ahead. There were no fart ghoul sentries on duty, at least none that the adventurers could see. Mono knew they were walking into a trap but was bolstered by the powerful speculum in her jumpsuit pocket.
Soda, Mono, and the Ratsack Golem entered the spacious home theater. They saw Cydroidobot’s son pinned under a giant thick wet fart, and next to him was a toilet that was made of stitched-and-stapled chunks. Kankersaur stood by the wall with the control panel and monitors and sense tubes, Kommandant Trenchstench and six fart ghoul ninjas stood by the wall covered in weapons. The Fartmeister reclined in his recliner, which could spin around to face any direction he wished. He farted fifteen farts, alternating wet and dry in absurdly rapid succession. Suddenly our friends were all bound in fleshy, moist, pulsating, tumescent veiny vines, like the kind at Goiterhead Farm but meaner, smellier, and brown. Mono struggled but couldn’t get to the enchanted speculum in her jumpsuit pocket. A fart ghoul ninja walked up to them and snatched the clothespins from their noses. Soda felt like she was going to throw up when the rancid scent of the Fartmeister’s fart-filled home theater invaded her nose. Then she did throw up, all down the front of her jumpsuit and hoodie. Then Montana threw up all over herself. Several of the Ratsack Golem's rats had vomited or passed out from the noxious gas.
This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version.
"Well, well, well, if it isn’t the boring sack of crap and some insignificant little girl. And of course, Montana Shingles, the Vice-Tremorroid of Bonertania and super best friend of its beloved Flatulenz Fairy ruler!"
"I hate you, Fartmeister!" shouted Mono as she strained against the vines.
"Well, I don’t hate you!" said the Fartmeister. "Wouldn’t you like to live always in this beautiful fartcano with me? I’ll make a bargain with you, sweet Montana. Remain here and live with me and I’ll turn the chunks golem back into a humanoid and set your little toy robot free and all your buddies can go on their merry way. I’ll have fresh gas cakes gathered for your feasting every day and you shall be co-ruler of all my fart ghouls and throw petrified poosticks at my flackfizer whenever you like. You shall be my stepdaughter or my super best friend or my aunt or grandmother- whichever you like- only stay here to brighten my gloomy kingdom and make me happy!"
"Are you sure he hasn’t seen the enchanted speculum?" asked Ratsack.
Mono laughed bitterly. "Not even to rescue my friends would I live in your stinky fartcano with you. I could never stand the company of such a nefarious jerk-butt."
"Well-” The Fartmeister blew a raspberry- “on you then.”
“Please, Mr. Fartmeister,” said Soda, nervously but loud. “Please let us see the Quantum Perineum! We need one of its toenails to save my uncle, who has been transformed into a puddle of vomit!”
“Why would I help you? I prefer puddles of vomit to people!”
The Ratsack Golem spoke up:
“Even a bad guy like you can realize the greatest power of your life is to be able to help and the greatest blessing a man can have is--”
“Oh shut up, you puffed up bag of vermin!” sneered the Fartmeister. “This confrontation bores me. Summon the executioner!"
Kommandant Trenchstench pulled a black hood out of his pocket, unfolded it, and slipped it over his head.
"Executioner, please torture the little one to death for my entertainment."
"No!" yelled Soda, Mono, and the Ratsack Golem all at once.
"I hear and obey," answered Trenchstench, who then walked over to the theater’s wall of weapons and picked out a spiky cat o’nine tails. He slowly approached the terrified Schlingian tween Soda Olheiser as she struggled against the vile veiny vines in vain.
image [https://i.ibb.co/RytJgg0/130SMALL.jpg]