Fart Bomb Novels & Stories

"This is what we call the soldier's Wallet. Inside it are small tiny matchstick look alike sticks, except their not matchsticks, their 20 metal bombs. They can be reused at least five times, you take one end and connect it to the end of another metal stick then throw it to the enemy, two seconds only, the whole thing blows up gas. Any kind of gas you have put into it, before blowing it out there." "A gas bomb?" I asked "Yes." "Who invented these gadget's?" Mika asked curiously "Does it matter?" Sam asked "Yes because I don't want to hurt the feelings of the inventor, if that inventor is you." Sam chuckled. "I know, but they can be useful." "They already are useful. Thank you for putting in

The bag Brian carried contained some GANGNAM bomb: A bomb that releases gas that kills all poison and bacteria at the circumference of 3 meters. GANGNAM bombs can only be sold in the black market. Apparently HOHO has deemed this bomb as illegal products soooo. Brian set the bomb off and broke down the metal door. We heard the muffling of the doctors. Their eyes were filled with fear, and expressions proving they were terrified. Their shivering body were as if begging us not to kill them. "Goodbye!" *BANG BANG* "I wanted to shoot them.." Brian pouted. "Now we both know what happens once you kill someone, we're not gonna repeat it." I chuckled.

Plus if we stayed up late enough we'd actually be able to see how our destruction upset everyone. The fun in destroying shit is seeing how much it upsets people. The potatoes and eggs were a success! I found myself wanting something more though. There was one more thing I had up my sleeve. "You guys wanna see something crazy?" I asked. "Pull over." Henry did so. "What do you got man?" I opened my backpack. "Tristian is that a fucking bomb?" Viola asked. "It's more like an explosive. Not like a big one though." "What are you doing with that, man?" Chris asked.

I mumble, a profanity that I heard by never said, perfectly fitting for the situation. All of these crates around me are filled with dynamite. There has to be at least twenty crates in here, probably containing fifty sticks each. My stomach turns as I sigh and accidentally get a lungful of the dynamite smell. I want to leave right now, from this carriage and from this circus, but I don't know how. My knees are shaking and I feel so sick that the room is spinning before my eyes. What do these psychopaths want to do with this much explosives? What kind of circus—?

They called me a genius ! “ …. of donkeys !”, they completed their sentence before screaming, “All warriors on alert, all warriors on alert. The volcano, Mt. Joy Stone is about to erupt !! We repeat …. ” And that’s how all the three stinky farts ran out of my dorm’s window, door and teleporting themselves respectively out of there but not before opening three cans of tear gas. These fvcking b*stards ! “WE WILL KILL YOU !!”

~ZZZZZZZZZZZZ~ The very moment the cube touched the ground, blue electricity flashed in a radius of 4mts followed by a zappy noise, all the pishach in the vicinity of 4mt dissolved like a large scoop in an ice-cream brick, a big hole cropped up in the middle of the swarm. Frankie was a person who always had a passion for tools and weapons, so he took charge of distracting them with the help of his most favorite tools — 'Disintegration Bombs'. These bombs, as the name suggests, disintegrates the victim into uncountable ions and molecules. The bombs had a fixed range of 4meters. Everything in the vicinity vanished into oblivion.

“Well, it’s a good thing I don’t pack light.” With a dramatic flourish, she pulled out three lumpy, dirt-crusted spheres, each one about the size of an apple and wrapped in what looked suspiciously like baked pastry. Micah raised a brow. “Are those–?” “Pie bombs,” Jane said proudly, giving one a little shake. It let out a faint sizzle. “Frieda’s specialty. Flaky crust outside, pure hell inside. Think of them as explosive shepherd’s pies.” Cristobal let out a low whistle. “You really do bake your emotions into violence, huh?”

“Fabian, focus your eyes on the road, it’s not time for playing now, or teasing me.” “I just can’t help glancing at the beautiful lady at my side.” He joked. We stopped at the gas station, and while I was waiting for him. I saw a strange man who looked nervous and like he wanted to do something crazy. While I was in the car, he threw a bomb inside and ran away. Fabian was in the store buying something, but I was shocked and afraid for my life in the car. So, I thought quickly and jumped out of the car right away before the bomb exploded in three seconds.

Bob casts a tense glance at Frank, who turns his eyes at yellow-haired Bill Cranston, my head of security. Bill is a small, stout man with a rounded belly that started growing rapidly early this year after he got married. He shifts his weight uncomfortably from foot to foot. "Um, Alpha," he stammers, "technically, it's not a bomb . . ." I glare at him. "Then what is it?" "It's a firecracker, sir," he says. "An industrial-grade, pressurized novelty charge." I frown. This is ridiculous. I scan the rest of the room. None of them look surprised. Bob and Frank are watching me with cautious, guarded expressions. Did one of them set this up as some sick, fucked-up practical joke?

Deep breathing, steady, steady… oh dear, I think I’m gonna fart. “Hard to tell Crystal, probably the midget one that’s been acting like she had a dynamite up her arsehole,” Edna grumbled, and a bolt of fear shot through me, I only just managed to avoid bumping my head on the exposed wood beams under the bed in my shock. Me? I did not have dynamites up my ass! And I was no damn midget! It’s called a general average ya big fucking doughnut titan! I hissed inwardly, unable to resist rolling my eyes to the back of their sockets like a mobile switchboard.