FUCK YEAH! I had a literary agent contact me today regarding this short story I vomited out a few years ago. He read it on another writing forum that actually has traffic. Good chance I will be paid for the idea. If I get money doesnt that make me a professional??? LMAO.
I am Jens infamous Big Brother. And I am a total fucking asshole. Suck it.
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Dorothy Prangholm and her nasty suprise
Dorothy Prangholm was enigmatic soul. Raised on a farm in rural Idaho, She had brown mousy hair and just a hint of an overbite. Most people hardly noticed her. She always just sort of blended into a crowd. That was exactly how she wanted it.
It was a beautiful morning. The long hot shower brought her fully awake while nervous anxiety heightened her senses. After choosing a plain navy blouse with jeans and matching navy socks Dorothy went into the kitchen to begin the ghastly morning ritual.
Breakfast consisted of cabbage boiled the night before and lightly sprinkled with salt. Also on the menu were a boiled egg and 1 12 oz. can of Albertsons brand chili, with beans. It had to be Albertsons brand. To wash it all down Dorothy drank 3 bottles of Munich Dunkel dark lager beer. It was torture for her to drink it as she hated beer, but nothing worked quite as well and the results were worth the effort.
As Dorothy was getting into her car she wrestled with herself on where to go today. It was either going to be the mall in Boise, or the Regal Cinemas just outside of town. Being that today was 2 for 1 at Regal it was an easy choice. The theater would be packed. As her mind wandered nervously, Dorothy’s stomach roiled from the noxious gassy mixture angrily boiling in her midriff. Small beads of sweat formed on her upper lip.
Pulling into the parking lot Dorothy was elated to find space only available at the far reaches of the lot. The placed was packed to the gills! 2 for 1 day is popular in Boise, and it was opening day of the new Michael Moore film. Spring break obviously had something to do with it as well. Dorothy parked her Toyota prius in the closest spot she could find, grabbed her purse and walked briskly to get in line at the box office. As she waited for her turn to pay, Dorothy was experiencing sharp stabbing gas pains in her abdomen. Her bowels were screaming for her to release the pressure building from the toxic bio fuel she had ingested earlier. Dorothy stubbornly refused. She was grimly saving it.
After paying for the ticket, She walked woodenly through the turnstile to the back theater behind the snack bar. As she entered the dim auditorium, Doothy waited until her eyes adjusted to the low level lighting before choosing her seat. This was the most important part of her plan. She took time choosing the seat that would set the stage of this twisted ritual. Spotting a rather portly old man eating a hot dog Dorothy knew he would be the one. Taking care not to let any gas escape, Dorothy gingerly made her way to the center row, midway up the aisle.
Smiling painfully, She sat down and bit her lip as the gas pains became almost intolerable. The large man next to her wolfed down the hot dog and began systematically shoveling down the popcorn between gulps of an undetermined soda, large. In what seemed like an eternity Dorothy closed her eyes in concentration while waiting for the lights to dim and the previews to begin. Sweat trickling down the back of her neck, she was relieved and elated when the lights went down and a hush came over the packed movie theater.
As the previews began and the theater grew dark Dorothy placed both feet firmly on the smooth concrete floor. As she slightly spread her legs in the practiced position of a professional, Dorothy let a small amount of gas escape. In less than 5 seconds the smell reached her nostrils.
It was an oily smell not unlike boiled eggs and sulfur. The odor was so thick and strong you could almost see it. Looking out the corner of her eye for a hint of reaction from the man next to her, Dorothy’s pulse quickened. This was what it was all about! As he was lifting another handful of popcorn to his cavernous pie hole, the portly man caught a whiff the nasty odor and paused. He sniffed cautiously and wrinkled his nose.
At that point Dorothy planted her feet and let out a steady stream of the horrid death smell. It had taken years of trial and error until She had come up with just the right ingredients for the eye watering stench. A full decade of practice gave Dorothy the ability of being able to pass gas silently at will. Her eyes watered as the smell assaulted her senses. As more gas erupted silently from her screaming bowels it took on an even nastier smell. Like burning plastic and rotting chicken. Her eyes teared as the smell wafted out into the theater.
The reaction in the packed room was swift. Heads started turning. Groans erupted from the crowd as people were forced to breath in the horrific odor. Like a well rehearsed role in a play, Dorothy turned towards the man next to her with an accusing look. “Oh my god”, Dorothy said. “Was that you?”
The portly man turned beet red and exclaimed embarrassedly “It wasn’t me!!”
The reaction from the crowd was just as she had hoped. “Dude that smells like a fucking turd wrapped in burnt hair” a teenager shouted. His girlfriend tried to shield her nose in the crook of her arm to escape the obnoxiously foul stench.
As the objections from the crowd grew louder Dorothy let loose another full 20 second stream. In 30 seconds the noise of the crowd began drowning out the previews. The more Dorothy let go the fouler the smell became. People began to exit the theater. An angry man with a John Deer ball cap slapped the portly man on the back of his head as he said “you fucking asshole” between clenched teeth.
Pretending that she was gagging, Dorothy grabbed her purse and began to leave. As she passed by the portly man Dorothy clenched her muscled abdomen and pushed hard. The smell was so strong and foul that when it passed through the portly mans nostrils he began gagging. As She walked up the hall toward the exit she heard her victim dry heaving as he denied to the angry crowd that he was the culprit.
Satisfied for now, Dorothy made her way to the ladies room. In the privacy of the stall she removed her panties, wiped herself and put on the spare pair she carried for such occasions. That last hard clench of her abdomen had created greenish brown hash marks in the ones she was wearing, It was a small price to pay for the expressions on the faces of the people in the theater forced to smell the rancid concoction she had so painstakingly developed.
Daydreaming of tomorrow’s assault, Dorothy put on her sunglasses and started off to the car.
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This is the rough draft. You fuckers dont deserve my polished final draft.
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