“I have paid you with joy farts,” he said carefully. “Now I am minded to hire you to show me around the fair tomorrow. I will pay you in goods you need, that I can win in contests.”
She looked at him.
“Why?”
“I appreciate being treated decently. You didn’t try to rob me or cheat me, and you gave me more than I paid for. I will stay another night with you, and try to leave you satisfied that I was here.”
She shrugged. “All right.”
He knew she was trying to figure the catch.
The fair was impressive. There were impromptu singing groups doing feeling renditions of “Fart of my Fart” and “Beer Farts and Gutsy People.” There were acappella farting groups. There were sexy bare-bottomed dances.
“Everything’s here,” Smellie said.
“Depending on your taste.”
“Blankets.”
She guided him to a stall where many excellent blankets were available.
“What blanket would you take for yourself, price no object?” he asked.
She laughed, think it a joke. “That one.”
Prior addressed the proprietor. “May the farts be with you,” he said, emitting a small fart. The Spire had prepared him for this. “I wish to purchase that blanket. I offer a jug of Joy Fart.”
“You have magic?” the man asked, squinting.
“He sure does,” Smellie said.
“I boarded him last night, and he kept me happy the whole time.”
“Give me a sniff.”
“One sniff,” Prior agreed, turning around and bending over.
The man put his nose down near his pantaloons. The Spire emitted a tiny fart.
“That’s Joy!” the man agreed immediately. “But that’s my best blanket. Three jugs.”
“Two,” Prior said, knowing that bargaining was expected.
“Two. But they have to sniff good.”
Prior put his anus to a two-spouted jug. His fart went into one spout, forcing air out the other. When the Joy started coming through, the man clapped caps on both spouts.
“How much time do you need to recharge?”
“I’ve got a good load of gas. I can do it now.”
He filled the second jug. The man gave him the blanket. Prior gave it to Smellie.
“Take it home, then return to me here. We have more shopping to do.”
Amazed, she accepted, hurrying home with the blanket.
“You got it for her?” the man asked, surprised.
“She’s a good woman.”
“Sure, but her face is plain.”
“So is mine.”
Soon Smellie returned.
“Now food,” Prior said.
“But you’ve already paid me far more than I deserve.”
“I’m paying you for your guidance. It’s a day’s work.”
Still dubious, she took him to a stall where there were many kinds of beans. Prior bought several packages with more joy farts, and helped her carry them home.
“I don’t get it,” she said. He told her as much more of the truth as he thought was wise.
“I’m here on a personal mission. I have special magic for this occasion. Once it’s done, I won’t have it any more. So I might as well use it to help a nice woman. It’s free, for me.”
“You can get a slew of beautiful women, for what you’re giving me.”
“Can I trust any of them without watching them?”
She was silent a moment. “No. But how did you know you could trust me?”
“It’s a magic sense I have. You proved out, and I appreciate it.”
She shook her head. “I’ve never been rewarded for being trustworthy before.”
“And maybe never again. But this time you are.”
She considered. “May I kiss you?”
“We kissed often enough last night.”
“I mean in public, so others see.”
Ah. “Sure.”
She did so, and there was a stir. Others had been paying more attention than he had realized. Probably news of his magic farts had gotten around.
“But you know I’m moving on to rescue the Maiden in the Tower,” he reminded her. “I’m not staying here.”
“Yes, of course. Who would want to stay with me?”
“I didn’t mean it like that.”
“I know. But it’s true. I’m strictly a waystation woman. That’s why I appreciate being treated like a person. It doesn’t happen often.”
“You’re a nice person. You could make some man a good wife.”
“So can any number of women with prettier faces.”
Can we help her? he asked the Spire.
YOU’RE AN IDIOT.
Answer the damn question.
YES. I COULD GENERATE A MAGIC FART THAT WOULD MELT HER FACE AND SET GUIDELINES FOR A BETTER ONE. SHE’D HAVE TO PROTECT IT FOR SEVERAL DAYS, BUT THEREAFTER SHE’D BE BEAUTIFUL.
Prior nodded. He’d make the offer when it seemed appropriate. “Now let’s tour the fair,” he said.
She hesitated. “Everything’s centered around the privy. You can find whatever you want without my help.”
“I thought I was buying your service as a tour guide. Are you reneging?”
“No! It’s just that—well, I’m a—you know. Everyone knows it. To have me with you, treating me like a date, that could fart off your reputation in a hurry. You’ve been so good to me, I don’t want to do you ill in return.”
She was definitely not cut out to be a mean whore. “What do I care? Tomorrow I’ll be gone.”
“You should care.” But she dropped the subject. They toured the fair. They stopped to eat fartburgers, drink fartfrappes, and nibble on pot cheese. All these generated generous quantities of gas, which they blew out with abandon. Prior saw a poster saying THE FAMILY THAT FARTS TOGETHER, STARTS TOGETHER. They were honoring its windy spirit.
There were shows galore. One was a little play featuring a man with a tremendous penis. “I’ll marry any woman who can handle this,” he proclaimed. One woman tried, bending over so he could penetrate her from behind, but barely half the member got into her before it balked. Another tried, and a bit more than half got in.
The third woman was more confident. “Sit down and lean back,” she said. He did so, and she stood over him, then lowered herself onto his member so that her own weight bore her down. Inch by inch she took it in, until at the end she reached down, grabbed his thighs, and hauled herself onto the last two inches. “There!” she said victoriously.
“No fair,” someone called. “She’s using leverage. Make her let go.”
Reluctantly the woman did—and she flew up off the phallic pole, propelled by the recoil.
“That’s all right,” the man said. “It was the force of my ejaculation that did it, she’s such a good fuck.”
There was applause for the act. Obviously no ejaculation could have thrown her whole body up like that; she had jumped. But it was a nice punchline.
“Actually I once had a harder fuck,” the woman said, going into the next stage of the act. “My boyfriend didn’t have the biggest cock, but he was really enthusiastic. He fucked me so hard that when he was done, he had to pull out his cock, both balls, and half of his asshole.”
Laughter. Two more people came on stage.
“You never fucked me that hard,” the new woman to her man.
“Well, I would have, but my farts would have blown you up like a balloon.” More laughter, as they had topped the prior joke by suggesting that not only could the man have thrust so hard as to get his entire rectum into her, he would then have farted and inflated her. Realistic anatomy be damned.
“Then there’s the time I had constipation,” the woman on stage continued. “For two months I couldn’t pass anything, not even a fart. So finally the doctor gave me a pill. Not just any pill; it was the hydrogen bomb of laxatives, with a count down of exactly twenty four hours.” She looked at her watch. “Come to think of it, that was yesterday. You’d better fuck me within the next two minutes and get out of here, because you don’t want to be at ground zero when it detonates.”