Fart Bomb Novels & Stories

I just widened my eyes to the point where it seemed as if my eyes might pop out of my sockets to express my dread while he conferred me a knowing look. "You....You tend to hold your farts in, don't you?" I couldn't help give him the stinky-eye. "What!!" He frowned as if he couldn't even begin to comprehend my state of mind. "You have to. Because that's the only explanation for all of your sh*tty ideas. Since your farts can't find an outlet, they must travel up your spine, into your brain and that's where sh*tty ideas generally come from."

“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.

set this place on fire! Darren then reached into his backpack and pulled out a premade bomb, shocking Jerome and Fred. "What? You guys have never seen a bomb before?" mocked Darren. "This bomb is made by Kurt and given to me as a gift for my birthday years ago." "I was wondering when I could use it. Now would be the time." Darren then placed the bomb on the walkway of the upper level and set the timer to five minutes. "We need to get out of here, quickly. Otherwise, in five minutes, we, along with this house, will be reduced to ashes and dust."

Apparently, I was crying too because if the slick stuff on my face wasn’t tears then there was a HUGE problem. “Sir, the bomb on the microwave was locally made..” Bomb? I’m Claire Wordsworth. Why would anyone plant a bomb in my kitchen? I used to pick my nose as a kid! I still do but not as often. “Contact Mr. Carter, Miss. Wordsworth is hyperventilating.”

The class chanted in unison. Henry continued. "Can we smell it?" "Yesss…" The class' chant ended with a giggle. Oh. Lila could see where Henry led the class and understood why he used fart as metaphor. It was easy for the children to understand. "Nitrogen and oxygen are also a gas like fart. Fart is produced by our body, while nitrogen and oxygen are produced by nature." Henry smiled at the children. "We cannot see nitrogen, oxygen, and fart. Because they're gas. They're colourless and shapeless, we agree?"

I have been reborn, and I happened to return to a point in my life just as Giorgo Romero, the Don, was about to get attacked. After snapping back to my senses, I gingerly placed a hand on my very swollen pregnant belly. My baby was still alive. It still wasn't too late. Amidst the chaos, I took off the emergency alert ring from my finger and threw it into the trash can not too far away from me. The Don was exposed and vulnerable amidst the crowd that was completely out of control. The terrorist had already broken past all defences. His finger was already on the detonator and he rushed up to the Don.

The soft rise and fall of her chest, and the faint crease between her brows, like even in sleep she was still worrying about me. And then, suddenly, it hit me. I had to fart. And it wasn’t the mild, easily ignorable kind. This was definitely industrial strength, and the kind that could kill a small houseplant. I clenched my jaw and stared at the ceiling, trying to convince myself that I could hold it. Probably. The problem was that my stomach was starting to cramp, and every tiny movement felt like someone was stabbing me in the side with a rusty knife. Alright. I just had to do it quietly.

“You’re it. F*ck me as a friend. Get me pregnant.” Green burst out laughing. He couldn’t believe Purple’s request, but after laughing, he looked at her seriously. “I will.”

The prank kind—once lit, they released an unbearably foul stench that clung stubbornly, almost impossible to wash off with water or detergent. Listening to Diana and Natalie's pitiful cries outside, Cyrus chuckled darkly. He picked up the stink bombs and walked toward the door.