****!MERRY MISCELLANY!****

Reading my way

through everything

in the

storied collection

of the

Mississauga Public Library,

I noticed that

the latest

children's books

are

drawn well

but dull.

So I wrote my own

children's story

in

the mischie and mayhem luvin'

style of

Robert Munsch and Dr. Seuss.

I hope you enjoy

Art’s Fart

by Gary W. Wright

        Arthur Rickenfracker was an ordinary boy with brown hair and green eyes and a fondness for reading, writing, watching cartoons, riding his bike, and drinking chocolate milk, an exuberant boy that everyone called “Art.”  He lived with his Mom and Dad in an ordinary house with their friendly, protective, and luving boxer Rocky, who liked to bark happily, leap on them, and lick their faces with his drooling tongue when they came home.

        Art’s Dad liked to amuse and annoy Art and his Mom by belching loudly while eating or drinking beer and smiling and saying, “Sorry, but it’s better to burp and bear the shame, than not to burp and bear the pain.”  Art’s Dad said the same thing when he farted, and Art always smiled and laughed when he heard it.

        How Art wished he could say this when he burped or farted at school and get away with it too, but he knew that while his Grade 4 classmates would also smile and laugh, his teacher sweet Miss Specklestone would get angry and send him to the dreaded Office.  So he always held his burps and his farts inside when he was in class, and waited for a moment when his classmates were being loud to quietly and discreetly release his burps behind a hand covering his mouth or shift in his seat to release his farts.  Or wait until he could go to the bathroom, or go outside for recess, lunch, gym class, or, best of all, the end of the school day!

        Then one day all the students had to make a presentation to all of the other students in front of the class in alphabetical order by surname.  As Art’s name was so far down the list, he had to wait a long time for his presentation.  Even worse, as the second student made their presentation, Art could feel a fart form within his bum.  But since he did not want to interrupt the presentation and get in trouble, Art held the fart back, and held it for the rest of the presentations, causing the fart to get bigger and bigger within him.  As the fart and the pressure increased, it became harder and harder for Art to hold the fart back.  Art did his best, but it wanted to rip freely and boisterously out like all good farts, and the pain of holding it back only got worse and worse.  Soon Art’s face was all red and sweaty from the strain, and he was grimacing in pain and groaning aloud.

        “What’s wrong, Art?  Are you not feeling well?” asked sweet young Miss Specklestone.

        “No, Miss Specklestone,” groaned Art.  “I-I think I might throw up!”

        “Oh, you poor boy!” said Miss Specklestone.  “Then you’d better go to the bathroom and throw up there!”

        “Thanks!” moaned Art, gratefully.

        He slowly and painfully rose out of his seat and lurched and stumbled out of the classroom, groaning and holding his stomach.  He walked equally slowly and painfully down the hallway and around the corner to the left to the boy’s bathroom.

        He had barely pushed the door inward and stumbled into the bathroom when his fart exploded out of his bum with a thunderous roar that sounded like a bomb had gone off, destroying the bathroom, blowing the door off its hinges, shocking and briefly deafening every student and teacher in that wing of the school, and shaking the entire school.

        Back in Art’s classroom, the shaking school sent little Maddie Mikkelson sprawling onto the floor in the middle of her presentation, sobbing and squalling.  Stinky brown fart fumes also filled the bathroom and the hallway of the wing, slowly filling the classrooms with a repellent reek and causing students and teachers to desperately cover their noses and flee outside in horror.

        In the smokey remains of the bathroom, Art had just time to think, “Wow!  What a fart!” before the noxious brown fart fumes knocked him out and he fell unconscious to the floor.

        As Art slumbered, sirens were heard in the distance as fire engines and police cars raced to Mapleton Elementary School.  The first two police officers to arrive leapt out of their cars and walked resolutely with their guns in both hands towards the school.  Suddenly, they fell over on the ground unconscious, knocked out by the noxious fart fumes which had been dispersed and made invisible by the air.  A firefighter who rushed out of his truck to their aid also keeled over unconscious.  Carefully fitting their masks on their faces, shouldering their oxygen tanks, and turning on the tanks, the other firefighters walked warily towards the three unconscious bodies, turned them over, and gently but firmly pulled them with their hands to safety out of the noxious fart fume zone where all of the rest of the students and teachers stood.

        Then the firefighters advanced equally carefully but bravely towards Mapleton Elementary School and entered the deserted, reeking, and smokey wing where the “explosion” had occurred.  Soon they rounded the corner on the left and saw thick brown fumes billowing out of the remains of the boy’s bathroom and the blasted door lying against the opposite wall.  Examining the door, they saw that the inner side of the door was crumpled.

        “Look!” said Fire Chief Fraser.  “The inner side of the door is bent out of shape!  The explosion clearly happened inside the bathroom!  An Evil terrorist must have put it in the bathroom and rigged it to go off when someone opened the door!”

        Dropping the door, Fire Chief Fraser and his men turned and strode into the bathroom.  Through the thick and stinky brown fumes they saw a boy lying with closed eyes on the floor.

        “A boy!” shouted Fireman MacDonald.  “He must have taken the full force of the blast when he opened the door!”

        Chief Fraser rushed to the boy’s side, dropped to one knee, took off his protective right glove, and gently placed a finger on the side of Art’s neck to feel for a pulse.  At last he looked up at his comrades.

        “He’s alive!” he shouted.

        Putting his right glove back on, he gently picked up the boy and carried him outside and away from the noxious brown fart fumes.

        Days later, Art slowly and groggily woke up to find himself lying under comfy white sheets in a big bed in his own hospital room.  Beside him was a big brown teddy bear with a little yellow fire helmet and a golden badge on his furry brown chest saying “Sammy the Safety Bear.”

        Then the door opened and a beautiful young female nurse came in to check on him and Sammy, and found them both awake, hungry, and thirsty.  Rushing to get them breakfast, she spread the news that Art and Sammy were alive and awake!  Soon other smiling nurses and a doctor rushed in to their room, and not long after his parents arrived to see them, both smiling in happy relief, his Dad with the latest Hulk and Spider-Man comics, and his Mom with a big Tupperware container full of fresh baked chocolate chip cookies-his favourite!-and an equally big 4 litre carton of chocolate milk-also his favourite!-to wash them down with, both of which he shared with Sammy, which he agreed were beary good.

        This began an endless stream of beaming relatives, family friends, classmates and their parents, and even sweet Miss Specklestone arriving to see Art and Sammy, the miracle boy who had somehow survived the Great Mapleton Elementary School Terrorist Explosion and his newfound friend the Safety Bear, and wish them both well.  To Art’s delight, they also brought him and Sammy comics and books to read, and more yummy home baked treats to eat and good wholesome chocolate milk to wash them all down with.  It was awesome, and Art and Sammy wished they could stay in hospitals more often!

        Alas for Art and Sammy, one sad day a month and twenty pounds heavier later, poor Art was pronounced fully recovered from the Great Mapleton Elementary School Terrorist Explosion, and soon after his parents arrived to drive him and Sammy past all of the smiling doctors and nurses waving goodbye and back home to an excited welcome from Rocky, who had missed Art immensely and licked both their faces happily.  The next morning, to Art’s surprise, and after a big breakfast of real maple syrup covered pancakes, his Mom and Dad also took the day off from work and drove him to Mapleton Elementary School for the first time ever.  Another surprise awaited Art when they arrived at the school, for old, grey haired, stern, and miserable Principal Snarkitzky was waiting for them outside with a big and friendly smile on his face rather than his usual scary scowl, and shook Art’s hand warmly when they got out of the car.  Strangely smiling Principal Snarkitzky surprised Art again when he led Art and his Mom and Dad into the school and to the gym where the entire school was assembled and waiting for them in chairs.

        Art’s parents soon sat down beside a smiling Miss Specklestone in the two chairs reserved for them in the front row of the assembly beside all of the other kids in his Grade 4 class, while Art was led by Principal Snarkitzky to the microphone standing in front of the assembled school.

        “Welcome back, Art, the miracle boy who survived the Great Mapleton Elementary School Terrorist Explosion!” said the smiling Principal Snarkitzky into the microphone.  Turning to Art, he pinned a big round medal made of gold construction paper that said “HERO” on it in big black felt pen letters on his chest that had been made by his classmates, and then gave him a copy of The Secret World Of Og by Pierre Berton.  And then a smiling Principal Snarkitzky pointed towards the microphone stand for Art to say a few words to the assembled school, clapping along with everyone else as the embarassed but pleased Art stepped forward to the microphone.  Then the clapping stopped and silence filled the gym as Art opened his mouth.

        “Uh-um-uggh” Art started, and then froze in terror at the sight of all the teachers, teacher librarian, secretaries, students, and parents staring at him.

        Even worse, Art suddenly farted, not as explosively as the last time he was in the school, but definitely loud enough that everyone assembled in the silent gym could hear him.  This caused Art to freeze in even more embarrassed terror than before, and he could feel his face growing hot and red, and a drop of sweat trickling down his left cheek.

        Suddenly Art heard himself stammer embarrassedly, “Sorry about that…but it’s better to fart and bear the shame, than not to fart and bear the pain.”

        At once a shocked, hushed, and awkward silence fell on the gym, a strained silence that seemed to go on forever.  And then, to the surprised relief of Art, it was Principal Snarkitzky, of all people, who broke the silence when he strode up to the mic and said, “Wow!  That was really deep and profound, Art!  You have really grown up in your stay at the hospital!”

        Instantly the awkward silence disappeared, and the entire assembly rose happily to their feet, smiling, clapping, and cheering, with Art’s Dad leading the way and shouting, “That’s my boy!  That’s my Art!”

        And forever after Principal Snarkitzky, Miss Specklestone, Art’s Grade 4 classmates, and everyone else at Mapleton Elementary School joined Art and his Dad in farting and burping with exuberant and carefree abandon, always happily excusing themselves with that wise and thoughtful saying.  And a good thing, too, because no one wanted another thunderous and explosive fart to build up that might destroy the school the second time around!

        And slowly but surely all of the rest of the people of the peaceful and prosperous town of Mapleton joined them.  Indeed, the townsfolk were so pleased with this thoughtful and humourous new custom that in time they elected Hero Art and made him Mayor of Mapleton.

!And they all lived, farted, and burped happily ever after!

THE END