Author - James

Geoffrey had had enough. He’d been embarrassed for nine years by his sister Linda, and was finally out of his tree. Yesterday, she had slipped a melted mars bar into his trousers while he was sleeping, and gone to the teachers at the morning assembly. Mrs Bartofsa had asked him to report to her office, to discuss going doing his business in the toilet, not his pants. He had instantly dropped his head.

The day before had been a whopper. Linda had given Geoffrey his teddy bear in front of the whole class, saying

“here’s your Mr Choochie Woochie, you left him at home.”

She had also splattered him with water bombs, told everyone that he liked to watch Play School, and carved “Linda was here” on an antique piece of furniture. Geoffrey got the blame. She had and even shot him with a slug gun, loaded with slugs!

When he was reading the morning paper, Linda got their Dad’s blowtorch and had blasted the newspaper with a river of fire. Geoffrey quickly dumped it into his cereal. When he had saved the non-burnt, non-soggyfied piece from being eaten by their pet dog, he found the article.

The headline “Archaeologist Finds Fossil of the Century” jumped out at him.

‘Dr Popoffski, a Russian scientist, has found the scorch scorch scorch of the century, a fossilised fart from the Flatulosaurus. It is encased in hardened mud, over scorch years old. It is being held in Lithgow, NSW.’

Geoffrey walked in to his sister’s room to see what she was doing. Linda was writing invitations for her slumber party. That was it! He would make a quick trip to Lithgow, steal the fart and bring it home in time for the sleepover. One hi-jacked helicopter, a stolen fart, a suspicious guard, a giant wooden horse and an arrest later, the mud rock, with its precious contents, was home. Just as the girls were arriving, Geoffrey hid it behind his back.

After the girl had eaten, and were about to go to bed, Linda said;

“Hey, Loser, make our beds!” This was the opportunity Geoffrey had been waiting for. He put the covers on, and, while the girls weren’t looking, he pumped ‘dino-fart’ into small bags, which he hid inside the pillows.

“You can go to bed now, your highnessnesses.” Running out of the room like a flash, Geoffrey locked the doors behind him. The girls lay down, and, putting their heads on the pillows, released the fart. The stench was enormous. It was like a cross between grandma’s undies, a kid’s joggers, a gone off egg, a cow pat, swamp water, dog hairs and a rotten prawn’s head. What really surprised Geoffrey was when the fart bonded with the girls DNA, and they started running around like headless chooks. The next day at school, anyone they breathed on instantly fainted, and the girls had to be put in isolation for three months. The teachers also talked to them about personal hygiene, at the morning assembly. Geoffrey was certain they wouldn’t be teasing him for a while.