Run of Ridicule

Zack tightened his shoelaces, the sun glinting off his serious expression. Today was going to be a riot, especially with Mitchell in tow. "Ready to hit the pavement, Mitchell?" he called out, noticing his friend waddling toward him, his sagging pamper visible beneath his shirt.

"Yeah! But when are you going to fart? I want to sniff it!" Mitchell exclaimed, his pacifier bobbing in his mouth, eyes wide with anticipation. Zack smirked, "Hold on, buddy. I’m just waiting for my breakfast burrito to kick in. Patience, my friend."

As they started running, Zack couldn't help but laugh at the sight of Mitchell, his dirty loaded pampers bouncing with every step. Kids nearby burst into laughter, pointing at Mitchell's sagging attire. "Look at that dude!" one shouted, and Zack felt a surge of cruel delight.

They soon spotted a gas station, and Zack had a devious idea. "Let’s take a pit stop," he suggested, leading Mitchell inside. The bathroom was cramped and smelled like stale popcorn. "Press your face against my sweaty ass through my shorts," Zack instructed, barely containing his laughter. Mitchell complied, his eyes squinting in confusion.

With a mischievous grin, Zack let out a loud fart, the sound echoing in the small space. "Enjoy that, Mitchell?" he chuckled, watching his friend’s face contort in a mix of disgust and glee. They exited the bathroom, and Zack decided to treat Mitchell to a chili dog—at 10 AM, no less.

As they approached the counter, Zack turned to Mitchell. "Time to impress the cashier! Bang your hands on the ground!" Mitchell obliged, pushing his Cookie Monster pamper upwards, his excitement palpable. Zack couldn’t help but laugh as he watched Mitchell fart for the cashier, strutting out with his pamper wedged up his crack, a king in his own ridiculous realm.

"Best run ever!" Zack declared, slapping Mitchell on the back as they left the gas station. The laughter echoed behind them, a testament to their absurd adventure.