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The Farting Contest

I’ll tell you a story that is certain to please, Of a great farting contest at Stockton-on-Tees, Where all the best arses parade in the fields, To take part in a contest for various shields.

Some corked up their arses to fart up the scale, To strive for a cup of a barrel of ale, While others whose arses were biggest and strongest, Competed in contests for loudest and longest.

This Easter parade had drawn a big crowd, And the betting was ever on Mrs McCloud, It was said in the papers, the sporting edition, The ladies arses were in perfect condition.

Now old Mrs Jones had a perfect behind, With a bunch of red hairs and wart on each side, She fancied her chances of winning with ease, Having trained on a diet of cabbage and peas.

Old Mrs Potluck was back for a place, She’d often been place in the deepest disgrace, Having farted in church and drowned the great organ, And gassed the old Vicar, poor Marmaduke Morgan.

Old Nan Hale midst all the applause, Promptly proceeded to pull down her drawers, Although she’d no chance in the farting display, She’d the prettiest arse seen in many a day.

The Vicar arrived and ascended the stand, And poceeded to tell this remarkable band, That the contest was a shown on the bills, Use was “Taboo” of injections and pills.

The entrants lined up at the signal to start, And winning the toss Mrs Jones took first fart, The crowed was astonished in silence and wonder, And the B.B.C. issued warning of thunder.

Came Mrs Potluck up to the front, And started by doing a wonderful stunt, With parted cheeks and tightly clenched hands, She blew the roof of the sixpenny stands.

But Mrs McCloud thought nothing of this, She’d had some weak tea and was all wind and piss, With hands on her hips and legs stretched wide, She unluckily shit and was disqualified.

Old Nan Hale took up her place, She grunted and groaned and went red in the face, Then holding the hand of her husband Tom, She let off a fart like the last Atom Bomb!

The Vicar, poor sod, got a terrible fright, The force of the fart set his arsehole alight, It demolished the band, it melted the trumpet, Burnt Mrs Jones drawers off and toasted her crumpet.

Her eyes popped out so immense was the fart, A doctor was sent for to examine her hart, He said she’s all right midst the cheers and the chatter, All she needs now is a new farting clapper.

Nan advanced to the rostrum with maidenly gait, And took from the Vicar a set of gold plates, Then she turned to face the crowd, who started to sing, And then farted the first verse of God Save the King!!!

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