Tom Izzo Farts

From the desk of SirMajesty Dr. Big Jonathan Boutros XVI, Ph.D., KBE Order of the Crunchy Taco.

January 26, 2234. 11:09 pm.

A remarkable breakthrough! Professor Dexington’s dig team at Central Lansingopolis has yielded a terrific historical find. They uncovered a series of crude images all depicting a late 20th century commander in the throes of an excruciating fartsplosion*.

*Fartsplosions, as they are now identified in the medical community, mystified doctors at the time. An individual prone to farts was said to “have gas,” while a single fart was only properly labeled by children and those of low social status or intelligence. The wealthy members of society chose not to acknowledge farts with a single, unifying terminology. Fartsplosions, in which an individual is overtaken by a series of explosive farts, were only seriously accepted by physicians in 2013, quickly becoming a staple of simple physical oppressions like the common cold and Butt AIDS.

The commander in question suffered from innumerable and probably painful physical maladies. His birth name was Coach Izzo, but he was affectionately called “Tom” by his wife and lieutenants. His personal throng of sex workers was known as the “Izzone,” formed in his honor much like the cults of Fritosiris in ancient Egyptstan.

By contemporary physiological standards, Izzo was a malnourished albino dwarf and wore a straw wig either due to his relative poverty or as some sort of proletarian war helmet; his troops, meanwhile, were of reasonable height and pigmentation save for one soldier each year who matched Izzo in his ghastly pale deformation. Theories surrounding these soldiers include the proposal that they were his illegitimate sons born of a Douglas Fir, and whose noble bloodline allowed them to serve as flag bearers in Izzo’s peculiar orange grenade-based squadron.

Yet Izzo’s most notable affliction by far were his enormous fartsplosions. Indeed, archaeologists have been unable to find a single image of “Tom” at peace; all known photographic evidence of Izzo during battle depict a man overcome by a continuous rumbling fart. As far as scientists know, there has never been a picture taken of Izzo when he was not farting.

The following is a series of time-lapse photographs taken of Izzo during his battalion’s strategic victory over a rival militia to the south sometime in the year 2010. The casualties were marked 58-57, with Izzo’s forces taking the extra hit; however, in Izzo’s time, armies took great pride in losing more lives than their opponents, as it showed they had huger balls and weren’t scared of no shizz. Because of the film’s low quality, Izzo’s suit of armor seems to change colors and stripes frequently.

Izzo begins with a segmented test release. The tension on his face is readily apparent as he balances concentration with fear.
Satisfied with the low impact of his test release’s olfactory output, Izzo appears pleased as he addresses the audible nature of his farts by perfecting the fart-clap sound masking technique.
Izzo’s confidence reaches its apex as he believes he has mastered a silent, odorless release. He is mistaken.
Izzo’s proud grin melts into mild, surprised discomfort. Something was amiss with his last release. Another one like that and he might have to depart the battlefield for maintenance.
Determined not to leave his troops, Izzo remains on the field, his confidence shaken. He attempts to maintain a veneer of braggadocio, but his Fart Squint is unmistakable. He begins to worry that his opponents will sense this new weakness.
Panic grips Izzo completely upon his next release. Though he doesn’t know it, he is in the midst of a Full Galaxial Fartsplosion. Ever the proud field general, Izzo stands firm. But his attempt to twist his terrified fart gasps into a laugh fool no one but himself.
“Does this smell like cancer to you?”
Izzo’s last desperate attempt to maintain a mask of sanity on the battlefield fails. Terror envelops him. Spit flies from his mouth as he hopelessly struggles to subdue the Kraken within his bowels.
Despite the tactical disadvantage to his troops, Izzo places two of his soldiers in his fartsplosion’s direct path. He needs to know what damages he stands to create if he stays on the battlefield for much longer. The two soldiers immediately assault an engineer from their own army. Izzo bows his head and realizes the psychotropic toxin in his farts will turn his troops against themselves.
Knowing the mortal threat he poses to his own loyal regiment, Izzo roars in pain and sprints away from the front lines, unleashing deadly farts as he runs. While the rage in Izzo’s eyes is captivating, the position of his flexible throat-sword is even more remarkable; assuming the weapon was made of high tensile steel, it would require a 22-radon Arboreal Fartsplosion to bend it the 83 degrees we see in the photograph. The damage of such a fartsplosion is similar to the 21 Sieverts of radiation that killed Louis Slotin in 1946.
Believing he has reached a distance at which his troops will be safe, Izzo unleashes an inhuman roar as the hypertoxic farts begin to melt his fleshy buttcheeks. A heartbroken lieutenant has followed Izzo away from the battlefield, determined to remain by his commander’s side until the last beat of his heart. Forensic records indicate the lieutenant exploded to death moments later.
Unaware of his lieutenant’s presence, Izzo hears the gooey explosion behind him and sees the chunky bits of his loyal and trusted servant. He screams in unendurable pain and sorrow just as a massive Crab Nebula Fart blows away his hip flexor.
Izzo summons an impossible courage and blows the only recorded Hiroshima Solar Zeus, a fart that still baffles physicists, as it rips all the way through his T-1000 metal exoskeleton. The fearlessness and defiance imprinted on his face, even as his body was ripped apart by its own farts, has quickly become a powerful symbol of the Fartsplosion research movement and will serve as the coat of arms for France beginning in 2238.

4 thoughts on “Tom Izzo Farts

  1. I’m not proud to laugh at fart jokes, and the time spent reading this post and laughing my ass off was a shameful chapter in my life.

  2. I’m not proud to laugh at fart jokes, and the time spent reading this post and laughing my ass off was a shameful chapter in my life.

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