#arrotos

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"By the Gods, Jon! It wouldn't be surprising if those trees in camp started to rot from that assassination attempt you call a fart."

"You seem to like to exaggerate, Lannister. I'm just helping you keep your spirits up on a cold night. It's just a little gas, that's all."

Another fart came out, this time silent, but still lethal, like a sly serpent. phhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh Tyrion choked as he tried in vain to cover his nose.

"Okay, Jon... I think I've had enough. I'm starting to lose the feeling in my face. I think I'm going to vomit."

Snow patted his belly lightly, as if preparing the ground for the next one. A slight smile plastered on his face. Jon, with a mischievous look, let out another deep and bassy PPPPPPRRRRRRRPFFFP, only this time directly at Tyrion's face on purpose.

"Maybe I can't control it as well as you think, imp. Must be the food from the North."

"Oh, sure, blame the food! As if it were responsible. You are the one who is consciously releasing this enormous amount of gas with this smell... (he took a slight sniff of the rotten air) ... this indescribable smell of decaying flesh with a grotesque and suffocating stink of... (he sniffed again) ... oh, by the Gods, boy, what is inside you that is so rotten?"

Jon smiled. He felt proud of himself when he saw others suffering from his scent, even though he would never admit it out loud. He adjusted the position of his huge butt once more. He closed his eyes in concentration. His belly started making crazy noises. He lifted his leg and…

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