Spike hummed to himself as he picked up another book Twilight had left sprawled out on the floor. He wouldn't have so many books to put back on the empty shelves if Twilight would pick up after herself when she finished reading them. He bent over and grabbed another book in his claw, his chubby belly being pushed in causing him to let loose a odious fart. Breakfast had badly gassed him up. He whiffed joyfully at the air. He didn't mind the gas. He loved the smell of his farts, just as much as the smell of his dirty feet.
Twilight, who was trying to get some morning reading done, caught wind of the smell and plopped her front hooves down on her muzzle in attempt to block out any more of it from entering her nostrils.
Spike continued making his rounds picking up all the scattered books and placing them back on their designated shelves. He felt another load of gas building inside and decided to take advantage of it. Quickly, he placed his claw on his butt underneath his tail and ripped another ripe one. He kept his claw still, letting the odious stench soak over it, and then quickly brought it up to his nose and deeply sniffed it. He let out a shuddering sigh of pleasure. He sure does love his own stink.
"Spike," Twilight let out a light cough, "maybe you could ease up on your farting? You know, hold it in or go to the bathroom and do it in there. Please."
He could, but perhaps it would be more fun if he could get her to join in. Maybe he could find pleasure in sniffing somepony elses stink.
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