Brian sat alone on his bed slowly rubbing the balloon giraffe he twisted his penis into with
his left hand. With his right he continuously honked his nose with ever increasing
frequency. Bridget had gone home to shower and change, and Brian took advantage of the
alone time. After he finally came Brian couldn’t help but think how masturbation was
going to be a totally new thing from now on. He cleaned up and went downstairs to wait
for her. His appearance very much the same from yesterday, the only difference is that his
eyebrows finally finished transforming into the perfect upside down U’s located high up on
his forehead. Brian noted that his butt, which made its usual whoopee cushion sound as
he sat down, was now beginning to get very sore.
Brian turned at the sound of the door opening, lifted a butt cheek and let out a fart.
Bridget entered carrying a shopping bag and wearing very tight jeans, a pair of small
boots with a 2-inch heel, and a very tight leopard print sleeveless shirt. “Hey there!
How’s ole Stinky Butt?” Bridget teased.
Brian got up and looked cross with her. “That’s not fun…” A loud fart escaped Brian’s butt
filling the room with a horrible stench, “…ny,” Brian finished and hung his head in shame.
“Hey don’t worry about it fatty big butt. I brought something to help with that.”
“What?”
“This,” she smiled as she pulled a gas mask from the shopping bag. She laughed at
Brian’s obvious discomfort.
“Oh your a riot Bridget, hyuck”
“Did you just hyuck?”
“Y…Yeah. I couldn’t, hyuck, help myself.”
“Something new everyday,” Bridget said as she was marveled at her own handiwork.
Brian began tenderly shifting from side to side squeaking each time as he redistributed his
weight.
“What’s up with you?” Bridget inquired
“My, duh, butt hurts. Nuk, Nuk.”
Bridget shook her head at Brian’s new speech patterns and looked back at him. “Your butt
hurts?”
“Yep.”
“Must be all the gay clown sex.”
“That’s not funny, hyuck.”
“Sounds like you thought it was.”
“No it really hurts, like , der, something is trying to get out.” All of a sudden Brian’s butt
exploded in one fart after another. They just wouldn’t stop as both of them began to
panic. Bridget panicked because she thought her chronic flatulence list item was out of
control, and Brian because he couldn’t even slow down the streams of farts. Bridget began
pushing Brian outside the front door. “What are you doing?!? I can’t go out there!”
“Yes you can! No one is going to recognize you! And if you don’t hurry we’re going to
suffocate in here from your stank ass!”
Brian faced with no real choice stepped outside into the night air. He lived at the end of a
cul-de-sac and there were very few houses, to attract too much attention. Once outside
Brian headed for the street. Once he found the pavement he doubled over in pain, the
farts getting louder and more intense.
Bridget watched in horror. She wanted revenge, sure, but she didn’t want to torture him
with pain.
Brian in the mean time felt something leaving his butt as the farts became more intense.
Finally with one mighty fart the pain was over and out popped a unicycle that he
instinctively mounted. He was amazed how he knew exactly how to ride it, and seemed to
have perfect balance. “Hyuck, No way, Hyuck,” he whispered to himself.
Bridget was both relieved and amazed as she watched Brian peddle around the cul-de-sac
as if he had been riding that unicycle since birth. She watched as he made sharp turns,
moved forward and backwards, sped up to almost ridiculous speeds, and slowed down
without any problems. Brian then began to circle around her very tightly.
“Throw me some, duh, objects,” he said to her.
She looked around, “Like what?”
“Anything!” He shouted more out of need than anger.
Bridget picked up a few rocks, about the size of golf balls, and threw them to Brian as he
peddled around. He caught them and started to juggle. He started with 3 rocks, but as
Bridget threw more and more he ended up with twelve in total. He had no problem
keeping up with the numbers and juggled with two hands, then one hand, and then split
the group up and juggled six in each hand separately. All while peddling around on the
unicycle. It was one of the most amazing things either of them ever saw. Finally he was
finished and threw them to the side.
Brian then halted the unicycle in front of Bridget. He gave a little hop up and came down
on the unicycle, which amazingly went back up into his butt. He fell to the ground and
immediately popped up onto his feet, with a small fart.
“Where did it go Bridget?” asked as she checked the back of Brian’s pants and couldn’t
find a hole for it to have slipped into.
“I…I don’t know,” he replied as he inspected his own bottom.
“Can you bring it back?”
“I don’t know. Hee Hee. Let me try.” And with that Brian concentrated and farted loudly
and sure enough the unicycle appeared under him again.
“Make it disappear.”
Brian then made it disappear the same way he had before. He made it appear and
disappear a few times, until both were satisfied he could do it whenever he wanted to now.
Bridget spotted car lights coming as Brian did little tricks on his new toy. “Better get
inside if you don’t want anyone to see you,” she told him. She was amazed to watch him
ride up his front walk and into the house, even riding up the two small steps at the door,
like it was nothing. She walked behind him and watched as he picked up the TV remote, a
vase, and a medium size knick-knack of his mother’s and began to juggle them again,
almost as if it was relaxing and natural for him to do so. She smiled to herself about how
her revenge was working out and closed the door and shouted to Brian, “Hey I think we
may need to air the place out! You know because of your gas attack earlier, Fattie Stinks-
a-lot!”