Do you love superheroes?
Those superhumans bestowed with superpowers, combating nefarious supervillains and coming to the rescue of the civilians right on time. If your answer is yes, then I’m sure you’re gonna love me as well.
Who am I? I’m Fartman.
You must be wondering what my superpower is, right?
Errr..it’s a bit embarrassing but every superhero in this world is unique. My superpower is generating and exuding humongous quantities of malodorous vapors like hydrogen sulfide, ammonia, methane and creating a putrefactive miasma noisome enough to cause deleterious olfactory impairment and torpefy a person for a day or even days (depends on my food, though!). Quirky, isn’t it?
Well, I was ostracized by the society, thanks to my bizarre superpower. I was abandoned by my parents post birth. They built a treehouse and left me there to rot. Thankfully, a mother crow nurtured me like her baby and years have passed since then. This treehouse is my heavenly abode.
I was never invited to superhero parties or get-togethers. On many occasions, those civilians welcomed all other superheroes with plaudits and celebrated their victories with pomp and show. I would be silently witnessing those events from the treehouse and farting in despair. My crow mother would then wrap me in her feathery cocoon, whispering “You’ve me, son!”
Recently, I’ve been observing few suspicious lumberjacks loitering around our abode, carrying those pruning saws.
“Mother, who are they?” I enquired.
“Son, I overheard those lumberjacks are planning to annihilate our treehouse tonight for a mere sum of money. But I’m confident that they won’t be able to execute their fiendish plan as I’ve YOU by my side.”
Tears of joy started trickling down my eyes. I hugged my mother.
“Yes, Mom! I won’t let them ruin our paradise. You, my brothers and this treehouse are all I’ve. I promise to save our haven at any cost.”
“This wood is gonna feather our nest. Let’s start chopping!”
“Don’t you dare touch my abode!” A stentorian voice emanated from the treehouse.
“Oh! Fartman is that you? Well, we were expecting you to retaliate. We’ve come prepared wearing our PPE kits tonight. Your putrid miasma won’t have any effect on us” The lumberjacks retorted proudly.
“Oh! is it? You know what, I’ve been eating worms, mites, bugs, stale mushrooms and dead cockroaches this entire day. Get ready to face my ultimate weapon which is 99 times more odious than my miasma. I call it Poop Shot. Here, take this!”
Bang! Bang! Bang!
Rancid ochre yellow poop shots were fired back-to-back with a velocity of 20 shots/second. The shots were olid enough to melt those PPE kits instantly. The lumberjacks went paranoid and skedaddled.
Long live my poop shots!
“You did it, son! You saved our treehouse.” My crow mother embraced me, misty-eyed.
One lesson I learnt was that no matter what they say, you need to believe in yourself.
I’m not a “weirdo” but a unique superhero.
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