BOMBS AWAY!
I can’t help it. The urge just comes and—boom! I release what my Daddy calls my deadly stink bombs.
At first, Daddy seemed amused by my noisy emissions. He marveled at how a tiny thing like me could produce such thunderous sounds. He laughs heartily and teases me a lot when he hears me “tooting” away. But then, after eradicating the by-product of my stink bombs three times in a row, Daddy was not quite as amused anymore. I don’t blame him—even I hate the smell of my own poopie!
Meanwhile, Mommy says she’s amused by the way my face contorts each time a stink bomb is en route. I had no idea I looked funny! As far as I’m concerned, I’m just performing a natural biological urge.
There’s an art to stink bomb and poopie ejection. Let’s first talk about stink bombs. You see, it all starts with a rumble in the tummy which builds up to a pressure impossible to contain. Easing the pressure requires hearty “toots” powered by 3 G’s: grimace, growls and full body gyration. The heartier the “toot,” the more intense the 3 G’s.
In the event of increasing frequency of stink bomb ejection, a major poopie cannot be too far away. It’s a must for a major poop to be preceded by a stoic countenance characterized by platter-wide eyes and stone-stiff extended arms and legs. Once these steps are completed, poop is sure to follow. The cue that the dirty deed is done? Sniff the air! Believe me, the scent is addictive. Take my Daddy’s word for it. He says even his dreams are haunted by its distinctive smell.
