Fart Squad Read Free

they didn’t belong . . . again. But don’t let me slow you down. Run along now,” hesaid, batting away the contaminated air in front of him. “Go see what the nurse can do for that unruly gut of yours.”
    Darren knew the way to the infirmary by heart, thanks to the many scrapes and sprains he had picked up playing too hard. When he got there, he found Nurse Rancid occupied with another patient: a tiny dark-haired girl in a pretty pink dress. She looked like a little princess. All that was missing was the tiara.
    â€œExcuse me,” he said. “Miss Priscilly sent me. . . .”
    â€œJust take a seat,” the nurse replied. “I’ll be with you in a sec.”
    But before Darren sat down, a foul smell filled the office. It was strong enough to make Darren hold his nose, but the effect on Nurse Rancid was even more impressive. “Oh my!” she gasped before collapsing onto the floor. She was out cold. This was not good. Darren needed a note from her if he wanted to get back to class, but as long as Nurse Rancid was passed out she wasn’t going to be doing any writing of any kind.
    Yikes, Darren thought. Did I do that?
    He was pretty sure he hadn’t farted this time, which left only one other suspect.
    â€œDid you do that?” he asked the girl.
    â€œDo what?” she asked innocently.
    Darren furiously fanned Nurse Rancid in the hopes of reviving her. “You know . . . ,” he said. “Fart.”

    â€œDid you hear a fart?” she asked.
    â€œNo,” he admitted.
    â€œThen I must not have,” she said.
    â€œOr maybe your farts are just silent but deadly.”
    Just then, Nurse Rancid stirred. Darren ran to her desk to get a pen and notepad before she passed out again. Sure the nurse hadn’t yet examined him, but maybe she’d be out of it enough not to realize. Because all he really needed to satisfy Miss Priscilly was a signed note.
    But as soon as the nurse opened her eyes, an awful, pungent smell flooded the room and knocked her out cold again.
    This time Darren knew he wasn’t responsible. It had to be the girl again.
    â€œKnock that off!” he said sharply.
    â€œKnock what off?” she replied.
    â€œYou know what I mean!”
    To be fair, holding a fart in was easier said than done. Before Darren could say another word, he lost control himself. A titanic blatt , twice as loud and hot as before, scorched the seat of his favorite jeans.

    Okay, he thought. That one was me.
    â€œExcuse me,” the girl said politely. “It seems your butt is smoking.”
    Darren grimaced in pain. The fart didn’t just smell. It burned!
    â€œHang on!” The girl strolled over to the infirmary’s small fridge and grabbed a handful of colored medicinal Popsicles. “Maybe these will help!”
    Couldn’t hurt, Darren thought. He grabbed the Popsicles, ripped off the wrappers, and jammed them down the seat of his pants. Steam rose from his backside. He was a sticky mess, but at least his butt wasn’t on fire anymore.
    â€œYou’re welcome,” the girl said. “My name’s Tina, by the way. Tina Heiney.”
    â€œDarren,” he introduced himself. “And thanks.”
    Two more kids entered the office, clutching their stomachs.
    â€œSay, do I detect the enticing aroma of Popsicles?” Walter Turnip asked. Darren recognized him from another fourth-grade class. As tall as he was wide, Walter was hard to miss. But today his bulging belly appeared even bigger than usual, like an overinflated balloon. He looked like a blimp in a rumpled T-shirt. And unless Darren was imagining things, Walter appeared to be floating a few inches off the floor, at least until a noisy fart released some gas and he touched down again. “Never mind. My digestive tract feels a trifle unsettled.”

    As always, Juan-Carlos Finkelstein was by Walter’s side. He was tall, too, but in a lanky way.