Doodle Story: Merry Stink-Mas
Even on Christmas, I'm still makin' smelly stories. :P Anyway, this is about a reindeer named Bozo who goes around pranking furries on Christmas day. The only problem is that his pranks usually backfire.
Horribly.
Doodle Story: Merry Stink-Mas
It was official December 25th, around 1:30 in the morning. Not a creature was stirring, except for a little prankster who went by the name of Bozo, for obvious reasons. Bozo was a reindeer, with big antlers and dark brown fur and a plump, chubby belly. Every year around Christmas, he'd always find somebody to prank in usually crude, vile ways. For instance, the time where he thought it was funny to fill a businessfurry's car with dead birds. There was also the time he emptied the contents of a septic tank straight down a furry's chimney. Bozo also remembered the time where he (probably his lamest prank) left the window open so the owner of the house woke up with a terrible cold. He told himself, "No one likes to be sick on Christmas!" but thinking back on it now, it was a really, really fucking stupid idea. The reason why everyone calls him Bozo is because some of his pranks tend to backfire in some of the most ridiculous, or bizarre ways. During the prank where he left the window open, two robbers stormed into the house through the same window he left open and stole all the owner's presents...and then broke his kneecaps when he woke up and saw what they were doing. During the prank where he replaced a cute puppy (it was supposed to be a cub's present) with a rabid, wild dog, the dog went crazy. After biting several times, the cub's father shot the dog to death, in front of his daughter. At the time Bozo thought the prank was hilarious, because it made no sense to give a furry a feral furry as a Christmas gift. Then there was the time where he T-bagged a furry in the middle of the night and took a picture and intended to use the photo as a secret Christmas gift. That would've went perfectly...if the owner hadn't woken immediately after the picture was taken and saw that he had reindeer balls in his mouth. But this year, he was optimistic. This year, he had a new set of pranks in store, some that would hopefully have a positive, non-fatal outcome. Bozo's target was a wolf, a hunter who usually spent his time in December killing cervines like Bozo. He thought it was only fair to ruin his Christmas and vandalize his house while he was at it. So there he was, standing on the roof of the canine's one-story house, wearing a camouflage sleeveless-vest and pants and black boots. He even had some face-paint on, like he was ready to go to war. He crept over to the chimney and giggled as he looked inside.
"Look out bitches, there's a new Santa Clause in town!"
Then he jumped into the chimney and slowly shimmied his way down to the fireplace, swearing out loud once his antlers got caught in-between the brick walls.
"GODDAMNIT!!"
He grunted twice and jerked his body around, and eventually, he got himself unstuck and fell flat on his bottom, sneezing when soot got all over his face and up his nose. He was lucky; the fireplace hadn't been used in years, so he didn't have to worry about burning his ass on the way down. Bozo crawled out of the fireplace and stood up, brushing all the soot off his fur and clothes and examining the house. There wasn't anything fancy about the place: a living room with a lit Christmas tree with presents underneath them, a TV, couch and table, and a few animal heads mounted on the wall, mostly cervine. Bozo loathed taxidermy, and his hatred for the wolf only grew even more. All the lights were off, short of two candles burning in the living room and the TV screen from the owner's bedroom. Bozo tip-toed through one of the corridors and came up to the bathroom and the wolf's room. The hunter was half-asleep, snoring as he sat on his bed with a beer bottle still clutched in his left paw. He was only wearing a tank-top and blue striped pajama pants. The hunter lived alone. Bozo smiled, knowing that his plan would work perfectly. He had a strange gasmask with him, one with a rather long hose attached to it. Bozo took out the mask and quietly crept into the canine's room. Then he promptly smashed the mask into the wolf's muzzle and strapped it over his head. The wolf woke up and let out a muffle cry, dropping his beer bottle, which shattered on the floor. Bozo was rather on the chubby side, and a little buff, and since the wolf was tired and mildly intoxicated he had no problem throwing the wolf to the floor and pinning him down with one of his legs. The hunter looked up at the grinning Bozo, trying to determine what he was going to do, only to see him hold up the plastic tube connected to the mask. Bozo giggled, before stretching out his waistband and shoving the tube down the seat of his pants. The hunter raised an eyebrow questionably, still unsure of what the cervine's plans were. But once the reindeer turned around, still grinning, and hunched over a little so his ass was stuck out in the wolf's face, he knew. The hunter's eyes grew big once he heard the reindeer's stomach churn loudly. Bozo made a few fists and grunted, before letting out a long burst of foul intestinal gas. He sighed after the sputtering noise ceased, and the wolf began to scream. Due to the tube being inside Bozo's trousers, all the hunter could smell was his flatulence, and the reindeer made sure he ate plenty of beans and cabbage beforehand. The wolf screamed and thrashed around, but Bozo quickly kicked him in the face and stopped him, then bent over and promptly let out another noisy, foul gust of wind. It sounded like trumpets blowing, and the stench was so horrible due to the confined space that the hunter wanted to throw up. The only thing he was happy about was the fact that the reindeer wasn't shitting down the tube. Still, the cervine had disgusting farts that were making him feel light-headed. Bozo grunted a third time before letting out another long, squishy fart that lasted for several seconds. The wolf screamed and tried to take off the mask, smelling nothing short of rotten eggs and sulfur. But everytime he tried to, the reindeer would just kick him in the face again or stomp down on the mask with his other boot. Bozo moaned loudly when he felt his bowels growl so loudly it hurt, and he let out a fart so huge he thought he'd rip a hole in his pants. It wasn't that he just let out one huge fart that could knock down a tree, but he released dozens of farts almost simultaneously without even pausing to give his ass a break. At first it was just a loud, trumpet sounding fart, but after that passed, it turned into several tiny ones that sounded like bubble wrap popping. Afterwards, he let out two long ones that lasted for seven seconds at least, and then the tone switched again, turning into what sounded like stomping on wet sponges. And all the while, all the wolf could do was lie there and scream as he was forced to inhale the malodorous flatulence. He had no ounce of fresh air inside the mask, no safe haven full of unpolluted oxygen, just a gasmask that pumped the foul stench of hydrogen-sulfide into his nostrils. Eventually, the wolf became light-headed and started letting out labored breaths. He mumbled a few things and raised a paw into the air and tried to shove the reindeer away, but he was just too weak now, and everything was starting to become black and cloudy. Bozo turned around and grinned widely once he saw the wolf ready to pass out. Then he let out a tiny, squeaky fart that a mouse could barely even here, one that smelled so vile that the wolf passed out the second the nasty fumes scurried up his nose. Bozo sighed and removed the hose from his pants.
"WHEW! Hard part's over! Now, I can get to the good stuff!"
The first thing Bozo did was ransack the hunter's fridge and gobble down anything that didn't take four hours to fix. He smiled widely to himself when he found a six-pack of Coors Light with a red bow stuck to the top of them--probably a gift from his hunting buddies. He ripped off the bow, took out the first bottle, snapped off the cap and started chugging away, despite not being old enough to drink in the first place. As he chugged the beer, he grunted and tipped over the refrigerator, watching as all the food inside came tumbling down with a loud crash. Then he opened up all the cabinets and tossed all the pots and pans and boxes of nourishments behind his back. He stomped on some of the boxes and giggled once its contents were littered all over the floor, creating a huge mess. Of course, he still had work to do. After chugging down his second bottle of beer, Bozo headed into the garage and hiccupped before he looked all around at his precious valuables. All his hunting gear--the rifles, the gunpowder, the axes, his orange vest--it was all there. His expensive, bad-for-the-environment red Hummer was parked inside the garage as well. Bozo thought about blowing up the car or shattering the window and hotwiring it, but he had no time to steal it. Plus he was becoming drunk, so if he drove away, he'd probably crash into some sort of tree. He had the next best thing in mind though. Bozo stood next to the Hummer and some of the hunter's supplies that rested on the table, chuckled, and unzipped his pants. He promptly pulled out his penis and began to urinate all over the SUV. He sighed with much relief--he had been holding in his urine all day. The golden stream of piss made much noise as it splattered against the right-side window and quickly trickled down the wing and dripped onto the floor. He peed on the window for a couple of seconds, before shifting his cock over and pissing all over the giant wheels and the rims. Bozo loved the sound urine made when it splashed against rubber; it was almost soothing to him. Unfortunately, he knew he couldn't waste his entire supply on the wheel alone, so he stepped back a few inches and aimed his penis high into the air, where he started to pee on the roof of the vehicle. He wasn't sure how much urine was being released, but it didn't take long before Bozo saw the pee spread all around the roof and drip down around the car, staining all the windows and the metal with the yellow, musky reindeer piss. Bozo was running low on urine, so he targeted the supplies next. He held in his piss for a few seconds, grunting and wincing as he desperately kept it inside his urethra, and then aimed at the table. He sighed loudly again and resumed urinating all over the place, watching as the luscious gold stream splattered along the table containing his hunting clothes and supplies. He aimed for the open box of gunpowder and watched as his pee made contact with it, grimacing once he sniffed the air. He wasn't sure what gunpowder and reindeer urine created once mixed together, but he saw a little steam rising from the box, and the air was acrid and irritated his throat. Pissing on gunpowder probably wasn't a good idea, so he stopped and targeted a Christmas present: a high-powered new shotgun the wolf had dreamed about using for hunting. Bozo grunted and peed on the rifle long and hard, making sure he rendered it inoperable with his musty golden waste. It was so comforting and such a naughty thing for him to do. The reindeer was peeing on the gun so much he didn't even realize that all the urine was spreading around the table and dripping to the floor. He was still a little drunk, but eventually, he stopped peeing and watched as the arc of urine rescinded into nothing more than a few trickles dropping from his penis.
"Hmm...what should I do now?" he pondered as he zipped up his pants.
Bozo opened up one of the cabinets in the garage and ransacked the container until he found a bottle labeled "Castor oil." The reindeer looked down at the bottle while walking into the living room and scratched his head. Then he looked up at the fireplace and noticed that the wolf had a red stocking hanging from it. Bozo grinned widely.
"Looks like Santa's leaving a bunch of coal in your stocking this year!"
Bozo unscrewed the cap of the glass bottle and started to chug the bottle of oil down as quickly as possible. Due to how bitter it tasted, the reindeer coughed and spat out some of the oil before groaning with disgust. He smashed the bottle against the floor, and looked down at his tummy before poking it twice.
"I wonder how long this is supposed--AGH!!"
The reindeer instantly hunched over and held his stomach as he let out a greasy, bombastic fart. He started panting and breathing loudly as he heard his stomach gurgling and felt all the waste in his gut rushing down towards his bowels. The reindeer farted again and groaned as he held the seat of his pants, trying to hold all the scat in his bowels before he soiled himself. He didn't want to ruin a good pair of jeans, especially since it'd mess up his plan, so he snatched the stocking off the fireplace and quickly unzipped his pants. His stomach was churning way too much now; Bozo knew he wouldn't be able to hold in his shit for another second. He pulled his pants down and farted so hard he wound up squirting three large brown splotches of excrement all over the rug. He squatted down, held in the rest of his shit, opened up the stocking, and placed it directly underneath his asshole. Then he shut his eyes and gave the hunter a nice, stinky pile of "coal." He could feel all the pebble sized droppings plummeting out his asshole, and he was farting like there was no tomorrow. Bozo sighed as he felt the sense of relief going through his body, and heard all the tiny lumps of scat filling the stocking. He stopped defecating for a brief moment so he could wiggle his short tail and let out two more squishy and foul farts that could've made someone vomit all over themselves. But Bozo didn't mind the smell at all, nor did he mind that he was taking a shit inside a perfectly good stocking. After letting out the two farts, Bozo grunted again with his eyes shut and teeth grit and started to let out giant logs of shit, instead of the common pebble sized ones. Due to all the castor oil he drank, dozens of pebbles collided with each other and were mixed into one giant log that was big enough to be mistaken for coming out of a Great Dane's ass. Bozo felt the stocking gain half a pound and sag even more, and to make matters worse, the reindeer could feel a few more logs ready to drop. He held in his feces and moved the stocking so he could look inside to see how much coal he left for the wolf. It wasn't filled to the brim, so he placed the stocking near his tailhole again and grunted as he released another smelly, fat turd and felt it plop inside the stocking. He sighed and walked over to the fireplace to hang the stocking back up, taking a few whiffs of the present he gave the hunter.
"PEE-YEW!! I sure do hope you love your stocking full of coal!" he chortled.
Bozo heard his stomach gurgling again and looked down at his stomach. Since he still had more excrement in his colon, and because he left so much coal for the hunter, he figured it was only fair to leave a nice, large present for him on his rug as well. He squatted down and farted loudly before grunting and spreading out his ass cheeks so he could drop three more thick logs of shit composed of smaller pebble sized ones. He was almost finished wrecking the hunter's house now. All that was left were the presents and the tree, which he actually bothered to decorate with colorful lights and ornaments. The reindeer stood up and wiped his ass with a page he ripped out of a magazine laying on the table before contemplating about what to do. Sure, he could steal the presents, but that wasn't funny or mischievous enough for Bozo. He needed to do something bigger, something comical and downright ridiculous. The reindeer pulled his pants back up and noticed the candle still lying on the fireplace. He smiled and picked it up before standing two inches away from the tree. Then he turned around and bent over, lifting the candle up to his ass so the flame was a few centimeters away. He thought about doing this with his pants off, but he heard if the flame backfired, you could set yourself on fire. He remembered hearing about some guy who lost his balls and dick because he lit a fart on fire and it backfired...horribly. Bozo moved the candle back the second he remembered that story. He didn't cancel his plan though, The reindeer giggled and farted as hard as he could, hearing a faint whoosh from behind and turning around to see the flame his fart ignited shooting out towards the tree like a flamethrower. He stopped passing gas when he saw the presents and tree set ablaze and turned around, placing the candle back on the fireplace and stepping back from the flames. He chuckled and stared at his masterpiece.
"Oh, such a wonderful holiday this is."
Bozo stared at the flames and sighed as the crackling noise and the acrid smell of smoke made him feel comfortable. Truth is, Bozo was a bit of a pyromaniac, and actually went to jail because he set his high school teacher's car on fire. Setting fire to a cervine hunter's Christmas tree and presents was like getting a massage at a spa to him. So he stood there and watched the lights exploded and go dim, watched the pine needles on the tree flutter to the floor and shrivel up, and watched the presents crumple up into nothing but black soot.
"Okay, okay, that's good enough. Guess it's time to put out the fire."
Bozo unzipped his pants and aimed his penis at the fire, and promptly started to whiz all over it. He wrinkled his nose a bit and coughed; the smell of his urine splattering all over the fire created a dreadful stench that was so noxious he almost blacked out. But he had smelled worse things in his life before, things that actually had knocked him out with one whiff. As the reindeer pissed all over the flames, he heard another giant whoosh and saw the flames growing. They were spreading along the walls now.
"Uh, hold on--slow down."
Bozo aimed his trail at the urine on the walls and watched as some of the flames subsided. Immediately afterwards, another whoosh was heard, and the flames grew twice as big.
"Slow down!"
As Bozo was pissing all over the flames on the wall, some of his golden urine trickled down towards the electric socket, which had the plug for the Christmas lights plugged into it. The reindeer heard several small zaps and saw a few light blue sparks in the corner of the room. Suddenly, another whoosh was heard, and the flames around the entire tree doubled. Some of them were so big that they reached the ceiling. Bozo's eyes grew wide and he backed away.
"Uh-oh."
If things couldn't get any worse, the fire was emitting a cloud of smoke so big that the fire detector was alerted of its presence. It started to wail incessantly, beeping so loudly that Bozo almost went deaf. Not thinking, and wishing that the hunter didn't wake up to see what a mess he made, the reindeer took a beer bottle and threw it against the fire detector, shattering it into several pieces and disabling the alarm. One problem down, another, graver one to deal with. Not only was his urine not helping extinguish the fire, but it was beginning to rescind. The reindeer looked down at his yellow arc and shrieked before grunting and forcing as much excess urine out of his penis. But no matter what he did, his stream of urine grew smaller and smaller, and the flames grew larger and larger, and were spreading fast. He panicked and started to hyperventilate. With no other option, Bozo grabbed another bottle of beer from the six-pack and started to chug. He drank over half the bottle in a matter of seconds. His stream of urine didn't grow at all. It stopped entirely. Bozo shrieked again and threw the bottle against the floor in frustration.
"DAMN YOU AUSTIN POWERS AND YOUR FAUX IMITATABLE ACTIONS!!!"
Bozo shoved his penis back into his pants and zipped them back up, before thinking of the next best thing to do: showering the fire with the nearest beverage he could find. He grabbed the fourth bottle of beer and frantically started to pour it all around the fire. He used up the entire bottle in a few seconds. The fire didn't cease. He threw the fifth and sixth bottle against the flaming tree. If he didn't know any better, all the beer was making the fire bigger. Bozo couldn't even see the presents or the tree anymore. What was left of them was a shriveled, charcoal colored wood engulfed in a sea of orange and red flames. Bozo started to panic now, unsure of what to do. His plan had backfired completely. He was so nervous about what would happen that he thought he was gonna shit his pants...although that was probably the castor oil doing its magic in his bowels again. Bozo panicked and started to pant as he looked left and right, trying to find a way to get rid of the fire. Instead of getting a bucket of water and throwing it on the fire, or calling the fire department, or finding the fire extinguisher in the kitchen, he did the next "best" thing and headed over to one of the windows.
"I KNOW! It's freezing outside--all that cold air should blow the fire away in a matter of seconds!"
So, Bozo went over to the window, grunted, and lifted it open. Unaware that oxygen for a fire was like blood for a vampire, opening the window only accelerated the flames. He heard an immense whoosh and screamed, ducking as the flames nearly burned his antlers.
"WHAT THE FUCK!!!" he squealed.
The flames had spread all around the living room now, lighting the couch, the table, the fireplace, and even a majority of the carpet on fire. He could hear the flames burning all around them and was suffocating underneath all the acrid smoke. All he could do was crouch and cover his head with both hands, whimpering like a child. He was so scared he didn't even realize that he was shitting his pants, the fear of dying acting like a laxative to him. Or perhaps that was the castor oil still taking effect. He knew he farted loudly a couple of times, and knew he caught wind of burning rotten eggs, but he had no idea that he was dropping a couple of thick logs in his underwear. After soiling his pants, Bozo looked into the kitchen and gasped, so happy he thought he was going to cry. He stood up and ran over to the kitchen, ignoring all the flames around him. There was another window, one that led directly outside, and one he could fit through. He squealed with joy, opened up the cabinet underneath the sink, and used the fire extinguisher to bust through the glass. Once it was gone, he tossed the extinguisher aside and jumped through the window, landing outside face-first into the freezing snow. He wanted to hug the ground--kiss it even--but the house was going up in smoke, and he had to get a safe distance away. So he sprinted until he was several yards away, then turned around and stared at the burning house as he caught his breath, and wondered why his pants felt so lumpy near his ass. The reindeer could see the fire through the window he opened, and saw smoke coming out of it as well.
"Okay, okay, okay, okay, okay...okay...I'm sure the fire isn't that big. No-no big deal right? Soon the fire trucks will come--"
Another whoosh was heard. Several glass windows shattered, the door was set ablaze, and the roof had little flames dancing on them too. At this point, it looked like escaping the house was impossible.
"Okay, the fire's huge."
Somehow, the owner of the house managed to wake up (on fire) and escaped through the back door. Unlike Bozo, who would've ran around in a circle screaming, the wolf took off his burning shirt and immediately threw himself into the snow, where he started to roll around until the fire was extinguished. Unfortunately, he still suffered 2nd degree burns. Bozo sighed with relief, happy that he wasn't guilty of unintentional furslaughter. He glanced at the garage and saw smoke seeping out from underneath the closed door. The fire must've spread there too.
"Gee, I hope the car didn't have too much gas in it." muttered Bozo.
The reindeer screamed and fell backwards once the Hummer exploded, setting off a chain reaction in the house that ignited the fuel lines and wound up making the entire house explode. Charred fragments of the wrecked house were sent in all directions, one of which slammed through a parked car's windshield and set off its alarm. Bozo got to his feet once he heard the car alarm blaring, the neighbors waking up and angrily shouting whose alarm that was going off, the sound of the fire blazing, and the sound of the fire trucks and police cruisers speeding their way to the scene of the crime. The reindeer whined softly to himself, and grunted as he hunched over and shat himself some more, feeling all the scat fill up his pants and create a very, very large bulge in the seat of his trousers. He yelped and grabbed his posterior, feeling quite embarrassed that he soiled himself with fear. Twice. Knowing that he'd be arrested for arson, breaking and entering, vandalism, and nearly putting a wolf into a coma with his flatulence (not to mention he'd be laughed at by all the cops once they saw that he shat himself), the reindeer only found it fitting to turn around and sprint as far away from the scene of the crime as possible.
Maybe next year he'll just spell his name in the snow...