The sausage at Kinchley’s Pizza put me right in the game. Bones was now shaking with laughter. I thought he was going to go flying right out of the top bunk.

“Lump, you must have painted the road on that one! That was . . . AUGGHHHHH!!! That’s awful!!” Bones was the victim of the hot-air rule. It rises. The smell of the sausage was even killing me. Of course playing a game of “Fart Pong” required more than a mean serve.

“Lump, I think that if we ended the game right there—” PLRRRPPPTT!! PLRRRRPTTTT!!!! PLRRPPTT!! “—it wouldn’t be a very good game!!”

Now I was in hysterics and could barely get out a word. “Oh, God . . . what did you eat . . . that’s not right!!”

Bones was still trying to control his laughing fit up in his bunk. “I’m pretty sure I’ve got nothing left in the tank, Bones . . .” PLLRRRRTTTT PLRRRRTTTT PLRRRTTTTT!!! “Machine-gun rapid fire! Thank God I bought the backup system!”

Challenge Question!

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