The Death Of A Legendary Warrior

rest-in-peace

Ladies and gentlemen, friends, fellow bloggers, distinguished  colleagues, kids, addicts and all the random people who stumbled upon this blog because of the tag ‘sex’, please join me in a moment’s silence to mourn for the death of the greatest man ever known to exist.

Some may claim he never existed but I beg to differ. He existed in all of us, we all have a part of him and he was an integral part of all of us. He came out of nowhere and stole our hearts, made us laugh until we cried and then, without a warning, left us all and joined the other martyrs.

He was an icon. He was a legend. He was the warrior that I can never be. He gave me a reason to write about him, and now, I never shall. It gives me great sorrow to announce the death of Hairy Potter.

Last time we heard about him, he was somewhere in the Andamans, trying to find meaning to his life and to all the unanswered questions that kept cropping up everywhere he went. Last night, he had an unfortunate accident while combing his hair – in a very delicate place – and inadvertently, he combed something else that wasn’t supposed to be combed.

Now, we will never know the answers to all those questions that haunt us day and night. We can never reveal the truth. Hairy was the only person strong enough to face the realities and now, he’s gone. There was some talk that this was the handiwork of the elusive Wall De Fart, but nothing can be proved. I cried the whole night. I attended his funeral this morning – it seemed the entire world had come to see him off.

Even in death, he exuded that hairy confidence that filled us all with inspiration.

Rest in peace, Hairy. We will all miss you, my friend. I envied your bladder control and now, I envy your peace. Fight on, Hairy.

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Hairy Potter And The Barber Of Andaman

Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction and all names, incidents or places are fictitious. Any resemblance to any persons or characters living, dead or fictional is purely coincidental and no harm is intended to anyone through this story.

The story so far: Hairy Potter, who’s blessed with amazing bladder control, finds an Over Ambitious Gall Stone (O.A. Gall) in his kidney, which escapes its confines and runs away to see the world. Hairy is depressed over this fact and with the absolute indifference shown by the police in this regard, and gets drunk. He urinates for the first time in 4 weeks, and by mistake, stumbles upon the Chamber Of Cigarettes in the ladies’ toilet. He smokes one of the cigarettes in the Chamber, and this does not go undetected by the elusive and villainous fart cloud – Wall de Fart.

Wall de Fart wants revenge on Hairy Potter for encroaching on his hidden Chamber. He also wants O.A Gall killed, for some strange reason, as yet undisclosed. He discovers that O.A Gall is in Sydney, and is keeping the Gall Stone under close surveillance.

Why is the Chamber Of Cigarettes so important to Wall de Fart?

Who is Wall de Fart?

Why is he so interested in Hairy and his Gall Stone?

Why is Wall de Fart a cloud of fart?

Read on to find out…

Hairy Meets His God-Farter
Hairy Meets His God-Farter

The reporter was a piece of shit. Literally.

He wrote for a newspaper called The Daily Fart, which had a readership of more than a million. So, he had some credibility. He sat in the dingy room, regretting his decision to come. He looked at the strange creature in front of him and felt the fear in his veins. He never should have come to this interview.

“You never should’ve come here,” said Wall de Fart, staring intently at the reporter. “Why do you want to know my story so badly?”

“Well,” said the piece of shit reporter. “You’ve always been something of a mystery to all the readers of The Daily Fart. I want to show them the man behind the cloud of fart. Is it true that your name has a literal connotation to it?”

Wall de Fart thought for a while before replying. “Your sources are good, I give you that. Ssso, let’s talk about my background,” he hissed. The reporter shivered.

“A long time ago, I was attacked by the greatest fart cloud ever known to Man. The force was so great that I was hurled against a wall nearby and lost my physical body. Some strange phenomenon occurred and I acquired the cloud of fart as my body, and in the process, the greatest fart cloud died. I am proud of it. I became Wall de Fart.”

“Hmmm… Right,” said the reporter, trying not to sound insolent. “And the prophecy…?”

“Ah, the prophecy,” said Wall de Fart. “There’s a prophecy that predicts that I’ll be killed by an abnormal phenomenon. Most of the abnormal phenomena in the world have already been ‘taken care’ of, if you know what I mean!” he said and laughed out loudly. “Now, only one such abnormality remains, but not for long. No one can defeat the greatest fart cloud of all time! Hissss!”

The reporter shook in his chair with fright. “And wh-what is this abnormality?”

Wall de Fart just smiled at him.

*

O.A. Gall finished his drink and looked around the empty bar. He was tired of Sydney. He wanted to go somewhere he could let loose and feel the adrenaline. He made up his mind. The next day, he boarded a flight to the Andaman Islands to go scuba diving. He did not notice the small cloud of fart hiding near the passport counters, as he passed it. The small cloud of fart made a single phone call and left the airport.

*

The Barber of Andaman was the greatest assassin known to the world. Er, I mean unknown, but known to the right people, and feared by the rest of the ignorant world. He was silent, swift and rarely made mistakes. He also charged 30% more than the other assassins, and never advertised in the Yellow Pages. He was a brute of a man, over 7 feet tall, and strong as an ox. There was nothing he feared in the world. Yet, as he flipped his phone shut, he was pale and shivering.

*

Meanwhile, Hairy Potter decided to visit his God-Farter and ask him for advice. He felt really depressed, and the alcohol hadn’t helped at all. He bought a ticket to his God-Farter’s country and left the next day. Two seats behind him on the plane, sat another small fart cloud, watching Hairy and studying his every move. It flipped open a phone, sent a brief text message and switched off the phone, removed the SIM card, broke it in two and disposed of the phone.

*

O.A. Gall donned the wet suit, adjusted his breathing apparatus and plunged from the boat into the brilliant blue sea. As the first waves his him, he knew it had been the right decision to go scuba diving. He felt a surreal calm sweep over him, and he felt weightless as he began to sink beneath the surface. He breathed the compressed air deeply and saw the amazing spread of marine life beneath him, and smiled for the first time since he had escaped from Hairy’s kidney.

Unknown to O.A. Gall, the Barber had him in his sight. He adjusted the high-powered rifle and squinted through the lens, and found the tiny mass of The Over Ambitious Gall Stone floating just beneath the smooth surface of the ocean. He gripped the barrel lightly, breathed deeply and put a finger to the trigger, and was about to squeeze the trigger, when someone screamed behind him. He jerked up in surprise but it was too late – the bullet whizzed from the gun, silently because of the silencer, and dropped harmlessly in the water.

The Barber was burning with rage when he turned around, but the anger disappeared when he saw who had screamed.

“Hi God-Farter!” screamed Hairy and ran up to the Barber and threw his hairy body around him. “Oh, I missed you!”

The Barber forced the tears from his eyes. “I missed you too, Hairy! How’ve you been?”

“I’ve been all right. I just needed someone to talk to,” said Hairy as he released his God-Farter.

“Hairy, I believe we both are in very grave danger right now,” said the Barber solemnly. “I just failed in my first assignment, and the man who gave me the assignment is not going to angry. No one fails Wall de Fart…”

Hairy opened his eyes in surprise and shock and felt the fear flood his body like darkness at dusk. He watched as the giant Barber fell to his knees and cried…

*

The stray bullet from the Barber’s gun lodged itself in the ocean bed with sufficient force to stir up a few artifacts. Among the debris that had been disturbed, was an ancient coin with strange inscriptions on it.

Fear!
Fear!

O.A. Gall saw something floating up towards him from the depths, and saw the glint of sunlight on the object. He dived down and clutched the coin in his tiny hands and surfaced. Once on the boat again, he looked carefully at the coin. It had a strange cloud inscribed on it, with the words, “Ne pas pĂ©ter de couchage sur le dragon” inscribed around it. His French was sufficiently advanced to realize that this translated into, “Do not fart on the sleeping dragon.”

For the first time in his life, O.A. Gall was afraid…

[to be continued…]