The Fart Master
To Have a Stinky Superpower
Here I sit all broken-hearted,
came to poop, and only farted.
When the aroma hit my nose,
I passed out for God, who knows.
When I finely came back around,
from my workplace came not a sound.
I decided to take a peek,
although I was feeling mighty weak.
As I walked through those darken halls,
my lower bowels began to growl,
and from those cheeks so tightly pinched,
hissed once more that evil stench.
Remembering how this had begun,
I decided I should run.
When I looked back to winced I came,
the hall erupted into flames.
Out a window to the ground,
from there, I watched the place burn down.
That’s when I saw our low-life Boss.
He said a party he would toss,
With all the money he just made,
when the insurance he gets paid.
So, I went to the local bar,
to forget the day so bizarre.
I had a beer and a pickled egg,
my bowel growled, and I prayed.
I held my breath and looked about,
as every soul in there passed out.
I thought that I had better scoot,
I didn’t want to pay this fee.
There was this man in a dark suit.
He said my country needed me.
He said my gas was of high grade.
He said it was my duty.
To collect the best gas made,
I’d stick a tube up my patooty.
They have me eating a diet,
of cucumbers, beans, and pickled eggs.
My gas stopped a race riot.
I’ve taken on the bitter dregs.
If you are some sort of weirdo,
there is just no way that you can win.
I am an American hero.
I’m the greatest that’s ever been.