The Interview [1]

[Three individuals sit parallel to each other at the local cafe. The sign ""Fardy dardy ol' spot"" clings to the absolute run-down condition of the place. Despite it all, our three protagonists Nien, Komp, and Poop seem to be undeterred.]

[It's a job interview for the local eating spot ""Poopoo diner"".  Famous for butt-clenchin' rice and mass explosive diarrhoea that rival the Iraqi bombings. Legends say the Sushi spot's washrooms have long since retired, exasperated by their daily hourly torment].

Nien: [Sipping his watered down decaf loudly] Ermm, soo, Poop, apparently you want to join this company as a chef but first we'd have to-

[BURP]

Nien: Oh yea sorry about that I must have gotten carried away—

[FART]

Nien: Hehe. That's our butt clenchin' rice for ya.

Komp: So err, poop, right? Sheesh. Touch luck, Middle School must've been a fun experience. Well, anyways, pity aside, why exactly do you want to join us?

Poop: [Scratching his booty bum bum] That would totally be cuz I'm absolutely what you need right now. With my new recipes and improved turmeric formula I'll make sure I'll turn explosive diarrhoea into nuclear fallout.

Nien and Komp: [Both gasp obnoxiously in shock] 

Komp: Pfft, what arrogance. That'll get you nowhere bud. Except maybe back home. Considering you own one, that is. 

Nien: And besides, what proof do you have that your recipes truly are exquisite? The farts we produce are no little party tricks, little boy.

Poop: Me? Little boy? Take a look inside your pants maybe you'll see how little boys really could be. 

Komp: Jee wizz, shut up. I will no longer tolerate such insolent behaviour! Either make a good point of yourself or get lost!

Nien: [Trying to escalate the situation] Yeah. Totally. Exactly that. 

Poop: How about this? We have a cooking contest!!

Komp: Cooking contest? With you? Mate Lord forbid you make something edible let alone compete, but hey, let's give the little boy a little chance.

Nien: Just don't poison us. 

Poop: Yeah. And if I win? I get the job.

Komp: What if you lose?

Poop: Uh. I dunno. I've got like three bucks, you into that?

Nien: Meh.

Poop: I'll add in a lego set.

Nien and Komp: [Together, ecstatic] DEAL!!

Poop: Wait, but who'll compete with me? Two of you verses one doesn't sound fair now do it?

Komp: Psh, no worries. I'll do-

[SMACK]

Nien: I shall do it.

Komp: [Rubbing his cheek] What the hell was that for??

Nien: I dunno. For bein' stupid. Of course.

Poop: Very well. Same time, same place after a week! I'll make sure you potatoes pay for underestimating the great explosive powers of my all-fabulous limited edition egg soda and  beans special three course meal!!

Nien: I'll see you there, chump. 

[Both fart in symphony as they proceed to exit the cafe. Neither one of them speaks a word, and their lips are puckered in contemplation and competition. Komp stands in the middle of the tension, staring one by one at Nien and Poop and they take off their own respective paths home.]

[1 day after the incident] 

[Nothing of interest. Both Poop and Nien have been toiling day and night to perfect their fart-astic meals. Nien works on his Poopoo diner's world-famous "Lactate Biohazard meal" (One glass of milk churned thoroughly using egg yolk with crushed beans and sugar sitting at the bottom for good measure.)]

[Meanwhile, Poop works on his beautifully hideous fart-ulous "Hollow Caust meal" (Somehow edible methane gas embedded inside garlic bread. And stuffed with beans because why the hell not.)]

[2 days after the incident]

Poop: [He walks across a grocery store, looking for ingredients in order to perfect his fartsmanship.]

[Meanwhile, the incident and the fart-astic competition going to be held gains the attention of the public. The news of Poopoo diner's informal competition gains traction and the news spreads like wildfire around the neighbourhood. Then, the block. Then, the entire street.]

Komp: Woah. Attention from the public? We're gonna be rich.

Nien: Focus darnit! We've got a competition to win!-

Komp: Pfft. Who's ""we""? You're on your own pal. I'll see you after it gets held. I'll be in my house watching cat videos, you do you pal.

Nien: Whaaat? I thought we were friends!

Komp: [Komp pauses for a brief moment. He sighs in exasperation, then stares at Nien dead in the eye.]

Komp: We're acquaintances at best. Know your place, dammit.

[Komp exits their usual meeting stop. Nien stays there, flabbergasted as if seen a ghost along with his pride as wounded as a puppy with a broken leg.]

[Three days after the incident.]

[Literally absolutely and utterly nothing interesting.]

[Except for the fact that Komp reached level 123 in Candy Crush.]

[Four days after the incident.]

[Something interesting occurs.]

[Somebody has stolen Poop.]

[Not poop himself. A local poop stealer has sprung out of the shadows as one of the most utterly compassion devoid criminals that the town has ever seen. Said to be clad in a robe of poopoo stains and a mysterious amulet, the intentions of the mysterious individual has not been logical nor reasonable.]

[This infamous individual has been labelled as ""The Poopoo Man"". Truly horrifying.]

[The cases of The Poopoo Man increase in number, with rumors going around that the notorious criminal using the poopoo for unethical science experiments like some kinda rando Mad scientist.]

[Casting aside this menace, as per the context of the Food Competition, nothing much else has been progressed. Nien and Poop continue their daily self-assigned labor, seeking nothing but the utmost perfection in order to not only showcase their superiority, but to wallow in their pride.]

[The Poopoo Man's criminal activities seem to suspiciously be active mostly around the Poopoo diner and The Local Sewage Department.]

[Five days after the incident.]

[Poop takes a stroll across the nearby park. It is 5 A.M. The park is empty. The locals mostly consist of individuals working in the food industry, and they are quite lazy.]

[As Poop continues his sleazy stroll, he seems to notice a short yet ominous siluhouette approach him. Menacingly.]

[The individual is clad in an edgy trenchcoat.]

[And bangs. How disgusting.]

Poop: Huh? Who the hell is that bean over there? And why does he remind me of my diarrhoea poopoo?

Or......

Could it be?

???: Silence, little one.

[The mysterious individual, in a burst of beastly brown sparks, speeds to Poop in preternatural speed for some reason.]

Poop: AAAA!! [Instinctively, Poop does the most reasonable thing that one in his predicament would have done.]

[LOUD STINKY FART]

???: AAAA!!

[BWAAAAAAAAAT. The loud noise echoes through the empty park. A minor stink spreads out the surrounding area.]

[Poop had been experimenting with his dishes a day prior. He had a little sample of his methane garlic bread bean sandwich. Needless to say, the thing was so good he finished four of them in a single sitting.]

[Because his toilet was clogged that day, he held back his......let's say, "Semi-automatic poopoo blast" for the entire night.]

[And there it is. The effects of the brutal meal. In a single BWAAAAAAAAAAAAAT.]

???: [Chokes violently, before scurrying off. His nose temporarily loses it's senses. His neurons flail violently in suffering. And worst of all, his lungs now have an increased 3% risk of cancer by the fart alone.]

[The mysterious individual flees the park.]

Poop: [Sniffs the surrounding air] Eughh stinky stinky!!

[Poop faints due to the stinky stinky fart. Because, in life, even the stinkiest of farts which do us bad also repel evil.]

[Oh and also Poop's lungs also suffer drastic effects by his own fart. He has grown accustomed to his own farts, but however, this fart was more deadly than the others. Because of the increased risk of cancer, one could say the fart was carcinogenic. Somehow.]

[Poop remains on the ground. Some local homeless rando informs the local park guards and they call an ambulance to pick Poop up. Poop's fart still lingers on the atmosphere, somehow condensing through the cold air to form a miniature cloud.]

[It must have special fart properties.]

[That being said, Poop goes to the local hospital to get booty treatment. His booty, in the hospital, gets treated. The bill unfortunately, however, registers him unable to buy ingredients to practice his cooking because the financially disabled potato doesn't have a credit card and doesn't know how to get one.]