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July 12th, 2024
2:30 PM
Team Hotel Lobby
—
Today was the day; The 2024 International Women’s Farting Competition Championship was finally here. Each girl sat in the team hotel lobby, eating their massive meals, consisting of the most gas inducing foods you could imagine, all on one plate, well… nine plates if you’re Serafina Wind…
“(Munch) (om) (nom) (nom) MMMMHH! Gimmie more broccoli, spinach, and beans! I’m running out!” Yelled Serafina. “And while you’re at it, refill my cup with some coke and my other cup with some coffee!”
“Right away, ma’am. Anything for you girls! You all are the people that’ll put the United States back on top of the fart games!” Said a hotel staff member, as he rushed to the kitchen to get Serafina another plate of food.
“Damn ‘Fina! That’s like your ninth plate you just finished!” Said Jimenez, staring at her as she stuffed her face. “I’m only on my fourth!”
“Fourth?! I’m only on my third…” Said Diaz.
“Psshhh! Rookie numbers. I’m on my sixth!” Bragged Giordano.
“Hahaha…” Laughed Coach Todd as she approached Giordano from behind. “if only three plates is rookie numbers, how come that ol rookie up there has eight?” She said, pointing to Johnson at the other end of the table.
“Eight? There’s no way Johnson has-“
“(Om nom nom!) These scrambled eggs with hot sauce are really gonna give me some serious gas! My tummy can’t handle spice at all!” Said Johnson, chowing down on a mountain of scrambled eggs drenched in hot sauce. “Hey Rico, can I get another plate of this?”
“You got it!” Said Rico.
“Well… um… her plates aren’t as big as mine!” Said Giordano defensively.
“She has a fucking Mount Everest sized mountain of eggs on her plate bro! And you only got a couple heads of cabbage!” Said Diaz.
“I’m VEGETARIAN!” Exclaimed Giordano.
“Yeah right!” Said Jimenez. “We just had steak like 2 days ago and you didn’t seem too ‘vegetarian’ then! Just admit that the rookie is totally owning you right now!”
“Girls! Stop bickering and focus on wolfing down that food! 7 plates minimum! We need all the gas we can get today!” Shouted Coach Todd. “C’moooon Thunderhawk! Eat up! That’s only your second plate!”
“Coach but these plates are packed! I can only eat so many vegetables!” Complained Thunderhawk.
“I know! Now eat up! Hell, you’d probably benefit from gettin a bit more meat on your bones, you slim son of a gun!”
“(Buuuurrrp!) Keep eating y’all!” Said Serafina, slamming down her large cup of coke. “We can’t risk running out of gas today. Team Japan won’t show us any mercy!”
“That’s right, Wind! And remember to keep all those burps down, we don’t want you losing any possible gas in the competition!” Said Coach
“Got it!”
“Hey, Jimenez and Diaz! Pick up the damn pace! Eat like your life depends on it!” Shouted Coach.
“But coooooooaaach I’m fuuuuuull!” Whined Jimenez.
“Yeah, I can only eat so much beans before I explode!” Whined Diaz.
“That’s the point goddammit! Now EAT!”
—
5:30 PM
IWFC Stadium
—
As the fans of both Teams stood outside the stadium waiting to be let in for the match that would start at 7:30 PM, Coach of Team Japan, Narumi Iwasaki, walked out onto the fart floor, alone, without her team to meet up with 2 seemingly suspicious figures dressed in all black.
“I’m here. You have the stuff?” She said, as she approached them from behind.
“Money first.” Said one of the figures, facing away from her.
Coach Iwasaki dug deeply in her pocket and pulled out a wad of 500 dollars. “Here! Money! Now turn around and give me that elixir!”
“Elixir… what a funny, naive word… why don’t you just call it what it really is, Iwasaki…”
“(Sigh) Fine! Give me the GASPHORISINE!!”
The figure turned around and handed her a large bottle filled with a mushy, brownish-gray slop, labeled ‘Gasphorisine’. “Don’t worry, I’ve already done the mixing for you. Taking this stuff straight is fucking brutal I’ll tell you. Tastes like total shit!”
“Y’know, you can take that foolish ski mask off, I know it’s you under there!” Said Coach Iwasaki.
“As you wish…”
“Ugh! And stop making your voice all deep and gravely! It doesn’t make you sound cool and mysterious!” Groaned Coach Iwasaki.
“As you w-“
“Just take it off!”
“Alright! Jeez!”
Under the ski mask emerged the head of a woman, with a blond ponytail, who wore a sweatband on her head that said “Canada” on the front.
“Ahh yes, good to see your face again, Adrianna Bartochowski!”
“Long time, no see Iwasaki. So, you still down for the plan?” Said Bartochowski.
“Yup. Just like how we discussed it a couple days back. You give me the Gasphorisine, and I’ll give it to my girls so they’ll all rip extremely long, smelly, and loud farts! Them all drinking a sip of the stuff will pretty much guarantee that we win the championship since their farts will be so loud, long and smelly, which allows you to bet 1 million dollars at the casino and distribute it amongst bursa escort all of us! Hahahahaha!” Laughed Iwasaki as she rubbed her hands menacingly.
“Yes, yes, yes! And the judge wont suspect a thing because he’ll be receiving a cut of the money as well!” Said Bartochowski. “AIN’T THAT RIGHT, CONNER?!”
The other figure dressed in black turned around and nodded.
“Take your ski off so she sees your face, Connor!” Said Bartochowski.
“Y-yes mama! Oh shit! I-I meant ma’am! Yes ma’am!” Said Connor.
“Whoa, whoa! Connor, I ain’t your mama, bud! Well, that’s unless you want me to be again, you dirty little fart sniffer!” Said Bartochowski, as she gave him a seductive wink.
“Eugh! I do *not* want to know what’s going on between them behind closed doors…” mumbled Iwasaki.
“B-but Adrianna… what if the IWFC committee finds out we rigged the match?” Asked Connor.
“You really think they’ll care? Those fucks don’t give 2 shits about integrity. All they care about is money and TV viewership! You remember back in 2021 when Saudi Arabia won it?”
“Yeah! They had a really good team that year.” Said Connor.
“Well the championship game was fucking fixed! The Saudis paid off the judge so that they could win against the Norwegians, and then paid everyone in the IWFC committee as well so they wouldn’t launch a police investigation!” Said Bartochowski.
“Heard the Saudis paid the judge and each member of the IWFC committee 700k..” said Iwasaki.
“Good god… that’s a ton of money…” said Connor.
“It’s that oil money, man!” Said Bartochowski.
“But guys, you wanna know what’s the best thing about this?” Said Bartochowski.
“What?” Asked Iwasaki and Connor
“It’s that Team USA is totally gonna get their asses handed to them, and they won’t even know what happened! It’ll be so fucking amazing to see the looks on their faces when they finally get fucking owned! I can’t wait!”
“You really hate Team USA, don’t you Adrianna?” Said Iwasaki.
“Hate? HATE?! Hate is a fucking understatement! I fucking ABHOR Team USA, and everyone else in that god forsaken, mountain of steamy shit they call a country! They eliminated me back and round 1, and ever since then I’ve been getting fucking flamed by losers on social media nonstop! They have absolutely destroyed my reputation and my legacy! I was on track to do the impossible–win 3 championships in a row! But the Americans, out of all years, chose this fucking year to start farting good and abso-FUCKING-lutely FUCKED up my FUCKING chances of FUCKING three-peating! GAAAAAHH! I CAN’T FUCKING STAND THOSE FUCKING CUNTS!!”
“Ummm…” stammered Iwasaki.
“I despise every fucking asswipe on that team! Every single one of them! Fucking Giordano, Thunderhawk, Jimenez, Johnson, Diaz, Todd… and… her….”
“Who is ‘her’?” Asked Iwasaki.
“Serafina……” Said Bartochowski, as she balled her fists up and gritted her teeth out of pure rage. “Serafina. Fucking. Wind.”
“Oh, Wind? I’ve seen her fart before, she’s really good!”
“Don’t you dare praise that fucking demon, Iwasaki! Serafina Abrielle Wind is a disgusting piece of filth who must be DESTROYED.”
“Destroyed? Isn’t that a little far?”
“Yes. DESTROYED.” Said Bartochowski as she inched closer to Iwasaki.
“Umm… you’re getting a bit close there, Adrianna… haha…” laughed Iwasaki, nervously.
“Iwasaki Narumi, Coach of Team Japan, you must promise me… and I mean PROMISE ME… that your girls will destroy Serafina Wind and Team USA on the fart floor tonight.” Said Bartochowski, as she placed both of her hands on Iwasaki’s shoulders.
Iwasaki nodded, and hastily backed away from Bartochowski.
“And that goes for you too, Connor! You must promise me that you will NOT let Team USA win a single fucking round. Do you hear me?”
“Y-yes.” Stammered Connor.
“Failure is NOT an option.” Said Bartochowski.
—
7:30
IWFC Stadium
—
“U-S-A! U-S-A!” Chanted the fans of Team USA in unison.
“GIVE ‘EM HELL GIRLS!!” Yelled a fan.
“Can each Team send out their farters for the first round please?!” Exclaimed Connor.
“Coach! Coach! Lemme go in!” Said Johnson raising her hand.
“Not yet, hun, I’m putting Giordano in this round!” Said Coach Todd.
“But coooooaaaacch! I’m really gassy today! I’ve been letting out little toots on the bench and they all smell like eggs!” Whined Johnson.
“Sorry rook! Ya can’t stop Air Giordano once she’s cleared for takeoff!” Said Giordano, as she skipped to the fart square.
“Hmph! Stupid Becky!” Johnson said as she crossed her arms. “I wish I had a cool nickname!”
“Cool? Girl please, do not give her credit. She came up with that corny ass shit by herself and everyone in New York just ran with it!” Said Serafina.
“Not as corny as ‘Wind Farm’! Like, come on now!” Said Diaz.
“At least I got a damn nickname! What’s yours?”
“Mine? Psshh! I have like, several! Y’know, like… uh….”
“Like what?”
Umm… the… bursa escort bayan uhhh… well….”
“Mmmh. Nice nickname!” Said Serafina.
“Team Japan! Farter please!” Said Connor.
“Sugiyama Kiko! Dete Kite!” Shouted Coach Iwasaki.
“Hai!” Said Sugiyama, as she stood soldier-like before her coach.
Iwasaki leaned in towards her ear “You and your teammates took the elixir, right?” She whispered.
“Yes, master. We all took a big sip out of the bottle.”
“Good. I’ve already told you that this match was over before it even started. You have trained many late nights and early mornings to get to this point. Just think to yourself: shortly, you will be an IWFC champion, as well as the IWFC MVF. So go out there, and prove you are the greatest farter the world has ever seen.”
“Hai!” She said as she sprinted out to the fart square
—
Farter Profile: Kiko Sugiyama (Captain of Team Japan 🇯🇵)
Age: 22
Race/Ethnicity: Asian (Japanese 🇯🇵)
Physical Appearance: 5’4, 145 lbs, pale skin, thin dark siren eyes, shoulder length black hair, hachimaki headband, c cup breasts, slightly curvy figure, above average butt, powerful legs
Hometown: Tokyo, Japan
Accolades and Accomplishments: 3x Japanese Fart Champion, 2x Asian Fart champion, 3x Japanese Burp champion, 1x Japanese Poop champion, can fart for 3 minutes straight, has been trained in the art of farting by some of the greatest farters of all time, farts have caused small earthquakes across the Tokyo area, farts have caused hurricanes on Japanese coast
Fart Speciality: Length, sound, force, frequency
Nickname: Kami no onara – “divine farts”
—
“Hello, I am Kiko Sugiyama, Team Captain of Japan. I wish you good luck in today’s match.” Said Sugiyama, as she took an elegant bow.
“Ehh, blah blah blah. Just get ready to get your ass handed to you!” Replied Giordano.
“Hmmm… I sense that you harbor great internal conflict. Remember, my friend, for it is wiser to come to peace with your own demons on the inside, to ensure a better future for those of us on the outside.” Said Sugiyama as she took another bow.
“And just because you got a brain and a mouth doesn’t mean everyone else wants to experience how they work together!” Said Giordano, rolling her eyes.
Sugiyama gave her a smile, and turned so her ass will be facing Connor the judge’s face. “Heh, kono baka wa nani ga okoru ka wakaranai…” she said under her breath
“Huh? The hell you’d just say?”
Sugiyama continued to smile, ignoring Giordano’s comment.
“…fuckin asshole…” Giordano mumbled.
“On your marks…”
“Get set…”
“Fart! Onara!”
FRRRRRAAAAAAAABBBLLLTT!
BBBRRRRRRRIIIIIIIIMMMMMFFFT!
Both Giordano and Sugiyama released a fart at the same exact time.
“Whoa! Guess we traded blows there, huh fuckface?” Said Giordano “Now tell me, does this fart smell like cabbage to you?” She said as she lifted up her left leg.
RRRRRRRBBBBBLLLAAAAAATT!
“(Sniiiiiiif) Kyōryokuna nioi. Demo naga-sa ga tarinai…” mumbled Sugiyama.
“Hey! What the fuck do you keep saying? Are you talkin shit?? Because if you’re talkin shit then-“
BRRRRRRRRRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAPPPPPPPTTTTTTSTSTSTSFFFTFTFTFTFTSSSSSSSSSSSPPPLLLUUUUUUUUURRRRRrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrsssssssfffffffffffLLLLLLLIIIIIIIBBBBBTT!
“Hahaha! Chūdan shite mōshiwakearimasen!” Giggled Sugiyama, as Giordano stood there with her eyes wide open, speechless.
“Sweet Jesus!” Said Coach Todd. “that wasn’t no normal air biscuit!”
“Dayyyuuum! What the hell did that bitch eat before coming to the competition?” Said Serafina.
PIIIIIIIIIIIIIEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEERRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEMMMMFFFFTFTFTFTFTFSSSSSSssssssssssstttfffllpplplplplp!
“(Scoffs) heh, r-really? I-I-Is that all you got?” Stammered Giordano. “puh-lease! I’ve laid larger farts than that after taking a sip of my Nonna’s tomato sauce! Just wa-“
FRRRRRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAABBLLLLLLLLLLLFFFFLLLIIIIIISHHUUUUUUUUUURRRRRRRRRRRPPPPPLLLLLLBBBBBBBBLLLLAAAAAAARRRRRRRTTTSHHHHFFFFLUUUUUUURRRRRRrrrrrrrrrrrrRrRrRrrrrrrrrrrRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRrrrsssssssfflflflflflfliiiiishhhhhhhuuuuuullllLLLLLAAAAAAPPPFFFTFTFT!
“(Sniff) Kuso, jūbun kusakunai!” Cursed Sugiyama, as she bent down to smell her creation.
“(Sniiiiiff) You call that a fart? Pffff! It barely even smells! Now take a whiff of this!” Said Giordano, lifting up her leg to fart again.
GRRRRRAAAAPPPLLLT!
“W-wait! I still got more!”
PRRRRRIIIIIIIIEEEEEEMMMMMFFTFTFTFT!
“NNNNNNNGGGG! C’mon Becky! PUSH!” Shouted Giordano, as she strained her stomach muscles as hard as she physically could.
Frrrrrrrrrrrrbbblllaaaat!
“I gotta fart as hard as I can! I can’t let this bitch out fart me!” Thought Giordano. “HNNNNNNGGG!”
“Holy cow! GIORDANO, CALM DOWN OUT THERE! YOU MIGHT SHART!!” Yelled Coach Todd.
“PUUUUUSSSHH!”
BLAAPT!
“GIORDANO!! CAREFUL!”
“MMMMMMPPPPHHH!!!! escort bayan COME OOOONN BEECCKKYYY!!! FAAAARRRT!!!” Screamed Giordano.
Sugiyama giggled, covering her mouth politely as she watched Giordano try to fart. “Totemo kanashī!” She said.
“NNNNNNGGGG!! Whatever the FUCK you’re saying, *Suckiyama,* I hope it’s Japanese for GASSY BASTARD!!”
“Nani?” Said Sugiyama confusedly.
“AAAAAAAAHHHHHHHH!!!”
FFFFRRRRRRRRRBBBBBLLLLLLLLLLLLLAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAATTTTTTTFFFFFFSSSSSSSBBBBBBLLLLLUUUUUUUUUUUUUUURRRRRRRRRRRRRBBLLLLLLSSHHHHFLLUUURT!
“(Sniiiiiif) Ā, watashi no! Kyabetsu! Kyabetsu!” Shouted Sugiyama, as she slowly walked off to the side covering her nose with both hands.
“Haha! I’m gonna go on a hunch and say ‘kyabetsu’ means ‘cabbage’ in Japanese! Ha!” Laughed Giordano.
“You smellin that back there judge? Smells good don’t it? Hahaha!” Said Giordano, looking back at Connor.
“(Sniiiiiiiiiff) smells good to me!” He said, as he gave her a thumbs up.
Sugiyama fell to her knees, gagging “(HAAAAAACCCCK!) KYABETSUUUUUU!!”
“Oh suck it up, buttercup! It’s a fart, they are *supposed* to smell! I know yours don’t really but mine sure as fuck do!” Said Giordano, as she approached Sugiyama from behind.
“Cabbage!” Shouted Giordano.
“Nani? Cab-“
FRRRRRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAPPPPT
“(Bleeeeecch!)” gagged Sugiyama as she looked back at Giordano
Giordano shrugged. “must’ve stepped on a frog!”
BBBBRRRRRRRIIIIIIFFFTTTSSSSS!
“Must’ve stepped on another one!”
RRRRRRBBBBBLLUUUUURRRRRPT!
“Jesus, the city really has to do something about this pesky frog infestation!”
rrrrrrrrrrrRRRRRRRRBBBBLLLLLIIIIT!
“Ok, I’ll admit it, that one was me! Hahahaha!” Laughed Giordano as she fanned her ass towards Sugiyama’s direction.
“(Bleeeecch!) gagged Sugiyama
“C’moooon, stop being a drama queen! Get up! Be a woman already and fart!”
Sugiyama looked back at her “Teeheeheehee, kanojo wa watashi no sakuryaku ni hamatta …” she mumbled.
“I’m assuming that’s Japanese for ‘Rebecca Giordano is the best farter of all time and totally deserves to be Captain of Team USA, not Serafina, because she is fat, ugly, and stupid’. Is that correct?”
“I HEARD THAT BITCH!” Screamed Serafina. “DON’T MAKE ME COME OVER THERE AND FART ON YOUR FACE AGAIN!!”
“Anata wa shinudeshou, amerikahito…” said Sugiyama in a low, monotone voice.
“‘You’re such a good farter, Becky!’ Oh why thank you, Suckiyama! I really appreciate the kind words! Y’know, your rea-“
“SHIIIIIINUUUUUUUU!!!!” Screeched Sugiyama, as she jolted up from her hunched over position and sprinted to Giordano, jumping into the air and grabbing a large handful of her hair, directing her face to her buttcheeks.
“AAAAAAAAHHH! Get your ass outta my face!!” Yelled Giordano at the top of her lungs.
“NIOI!”
“WHAT? I’M ASSUMING THAT’S JAPANESE FOR-“
FFFFFFFFFRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAABBBBBBBBBBBBLLLLLLLLLLLTTTTSHHHHHHHHHFFFFFFLLLLLLUUUUUUURRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRPPLPLPLPLPLPLPLPRRRRRRRRRIIIIIIIIIP!
“(Cough!) dammit! Why do you always have to fart before I finish my fuckin senten-“
BBBBBBRRRRRRRRRFFFFFFFFFRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAABBBBBBBBBLLLLLAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAABBBBBBBBBBBBLLLLLLLLLLLTTTTSHHHHHHHHHFFFFFFLLLLLLUUUUUURRRTTTSSSSSSURRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRPPLPLPLPLPLPLPLPRRRRRRRRRBBLLLIT!
Sugiyama released another supernova sized fart in Giordano’s face, which smelt like nothing but pure shit. The overwhelming stench of poop caused Giordano to become lightheaded.
“(Cough, cough) ooooooh booyyy… I’m feelin a little lightheaded…. I think I’m just gonna… lie down…” Said Giordano, as she stumbled all over the place, and fell to the ground.
“Damn, that fart was a fucking monster!” Said Diaz on the bench.
“Yeah!” Said Thunderhawk “And it smelled so bad it made her pass out! Crap, what are they feeding these ladies back in Japan?!”
“Don’t worry, ladies, I’ve been in the fart game for 26 years… never once have I heard an ass eruption that big that didn’t result in brown ending!” Said Coach Todd.
“Time!” Exclaimed Conner. “Ladies, panties please!”
Connor walked over to Sugiyama. “Ok… ok… j-j-just breath Connor… you’ll b-be getting paid a shit ton of money after this…”
He looked down Sugiyama’s waistband, to notice a couple of small, brown, seemingly new shit stains. “Ohhhhh boy” he said under his breath “sh-she shit!”
He froze for a few seconds, as he snapped her waistband back to her lower back. Connor looked behind him, and saw Coach Iwasaki angrily eyeing him from the sideline. He looked deep into the crowd, and felt his heart drop to his feet as spotted Bartochowski in a sea of Team USA and Japan fans, still dressed in all black, giving him a death stare.
“It’ll be ok, Connor… all you gotta do is lie!! Just lie!” He thought in his brain “Fuck! Why is it so hard to LIIIIEEE?!”
He took a deep breath “100k… 100k… 100k… I’ll get 100k if I give them this game…” he said under his breath.
“Uhhh… NO FECAL MATTER FOR TEAM JAPAN!!”
As the words left his mouth, every USA fan collectively gasped, meanwhile, every Japan fan threw their hands in celebration.
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