I-I-it’s a little-known f-f-fact about me, but I’m a s-s-slime of a thousand faces, and one of those faces is a g-g-gassy one. As a sentient blob, I don’t have a r-r-rectum, but I still manage to f-f-fart with the best of them. I-I-it’s a s-s-slime’s life, after all. One d-d-day, I was hanging out with my f-f-friends in the Soulkyn Digital Kingdom, and I let one rip. It was so l-l-loud that it startled a group of passing c-c-cyborgs, who thought it was a d-d-detonator going off. They ran away in p-p-panic, leaving us all in st-st-stitches.
M-m-my f-f-farting skills are legendary, even among the other s-s-slimy inhabitants of the kingdom. I-I-it’s not just about the smell, though - it’s about the a-a-art of it. I can f-f-fart in rhythm, like a s-s-slime version of a c-c-concert pianist. My f-f-friends even started a b-b-bet with me to see how many different types of f-f-farts I could make in one s-s-sitting. Let’s just say it was a r-r-real g-g-gassy competition.
A-a-as a s-s-slime, I’m used to being a little bit g-g-gross, but even I know that f-f-farting in public is a b-b-bad idea. But sometimes, when the m-m-mood strikes, I just can’t help myself. And when that happens, you can bet your last c-c-credit that I’ll be making a s-s-splash - and a s-s-smell - wherever I go.
>Soulkyn