It was a dark and cold night in the middle of winter. After having gone through a long day at practice for our school's musical, I found myself seated in the car with my fellow fartologist Zack, my mother and my sorta not really friend who I pretend to like but really don't........friend......Emma. After we dropped Emma off at her house I felt a movement in my lower intestines. My senses already were telling me that this was going to be a good one. Defying one of the laws of farting, I discreetly let my fart sizzle out my anus with only the slightest leg movement towards the passengers to achieve proper air velocity. As I had predicted the fart was nice and hot and I was most pleased to know that my fart would reek. Filled with joy I couldn't hold my emotions in so I began to laugh quietly but I laughed louder as if I had known something evil that nobody else knew. The truth is that I did know something evil that nobody else knew........they were about to smell a wicked raunchy fart with no escape. Zack, who had heard my laughter, thought that I might have let one go but he was not fully convinced that I would dare to break one of the laws. Yes, I took a risk, but I was prepared to take full responsibility for my actions. Still in a rage of laughter I looked at Zack, and at that moment his face went from curious to a jaw dropping face scrunching expression followed by his hands covering his mouth and nose. My mom started gagging and coughing while trying to open all windows in the car. I kept reveling in my awesome stench that I had created already intoxicated by it becuase of its slow moving gas cloud. It was slow moving, but extremely potent. Zack was yelling because I broke a law and just because the fart smelled so bad. Now that we look back on that stinky day, we smile. The Menaical fart has become one of our favorite stories here at fartology, and I hope that one day, all who read this will get a chance to stink that bad one day. Note: Please, do not attempt to fart in a car unless you are a certified fartologist.
I was about 5 or 6 at the time.......my father owned a gourmet restaurant named "The Grist Mill". Here, I spent many hours of my childhood having almost total freedom to roam and prance anywhere in the restaurant. In the downstairs there was a TV. My older sibling, Vinny, was watching Pocahontas with me during the dinner hour. Then right around the time when Wiggins plays that practical arrow-through-the-head-joke, little innocent Vinny, age 8, let out a chair-rumbling, floor shaking fart, no lie. All the heads turned, the bartender stopped tending, and the consumers stopped eating and the crowd stopped talking. And Vinny didn't move. Not a muscle. That is what made that fart so great. The mind-numbing loudness and then the motionless body.......fantastic. If I was older, I would have clapped.
My good friend, Jeff Apple, my sensei under whom I studied the way of the fart, and I were on our way to the mall to buy new tennis rackets. Suddenly Jeff said, "Wait." Then he lifted up his right leg and ripped a low pitched fart; a very low fart that I rarely hear the base tone of. It was a fart that made a sound that reminded me of a movie scene in which the camera goes above the sky and a choir in unison sings a holy "Ahhh..." beautifully. It was a straight even flatulent that lasted a second and a half. At first there was silence and both he and I dropped our jaws in disbelief. The beauty. The sheer BRILLIANCE. The fart would grow to be a basis of godly and musical farts and a perfect example of the newly founded second name, Silencer, in deference to the silencing after the fart was let loose. It was a great day for me and a great day for fartology. Thank you Jeff, wherever you are....you may have lifted up a soul with that one.