We have a village “character” who frequents our local micropub. He’s not the sharpest knife in the drawer, but otherwise a nice enough chap in a monosyllabic sort of a way, he likes his ale and generally mixes okay with everyone.

However, he also seems to have problem flatulence – by that I mean the type of fart that empties the entire pub three or four times in one evening. As Jilly Goulden might be moved to say “I’m getting notes of farmyard, volcanic sulphur and necrotic rat”. Customers and bar staff have complained about the stench and the landlord has on several occasions taken the chap aside to plead “Steve, for Christ’s sake please fart outside”. There’s a collection of industrial strength air-freshener sprays on the bar, but it’s all to no avail, Steve ignores all hints and reasonable requests, he keeps quacking away night after night resulting in an exodus of choking punters.

Some of us worry that Steve has a profound learning difficulty and that he may not be entirely responsible for his actions.

Are we being played?

You are spending too much time in the pub !

Steve for PM. Embrace the diversity of characters in your life.

Are we talking a berepper or silent-but-deadly? If he’s audible over the general bar hubbub then you can at least all get to the exits.

Are LEV barstools a thing?

Steve for PM. Embrace the diversity of characters in your life.

Quite the metaphor – Johnson farts in our faces daily and people still vote for him. Steve is better PM material though.

Are we talking a berepper or silent-but-deadly?

Proper SBD, there’s no warning of the impending trouser-cough. Steve will even stand there in the epicentre of chuff chaos with a blank expression on his face as we scramble for the door. It’s like that scene from The Wrath of Khan when the Enterprise is under attack and everyone is fleeing the toxic gas leakage in engineering.

Thank you Kayak – a pub whip-around will be arranged.

😀
We used to have a customer like that in the pub i worked at while at uni.

Sat at the end of the bar drinking stout and eating bar snacks all night.
Farts smelt much as you describe.

Eventual solution was a one strike and you’re out rule.
Which worked well for everyone, he went for a lap of the building every time he had the urge to fart, so we didn’t have to breathe noxious fumes, once he was drunk, and forgot about the rule, or just thought he could get away with it, he’d get thrown out and save himself a fortune.

“The one who smelt it, must have dealt it!” 😉

“The one who smelt it, must have dealt it!”

He who made the rhyme, did the crime…

Thank you Kayak – a pub whip-around will be arranged.

Sounds like there’s already quite enough ‘whipping around’ as it were.

He who denied it supplied it.

You are spending too much time in the pub !

is this a thing now? i don’t understand the world anymore.

do they make a version of those pant called coco pops for when you’re in danger of following through?

Active charcoal cushion for Steve. And/or gluten free beer for Steve.

Funnily enough, the mate of mine who alerted me to gluten intolerance and bad beer farts is a Steve. Pretty sure it’s a different Steve!

He who denied it supplied it.

He who articulated it, particulated it

local micropub – nice enough chap in a monosyllabic sort of a way – As Jilly Goulden might be moved to say “I’m getting notes of farmyard, volcanic sulphur and necrotic rat”

I think Steve is fed up of posho middle class folk disturbing his quiet pint so he is doing his best to rid the pub of such annoying chaps 😉

Funnily enough, the mate of mine who alerted me to gluten intolerance and bad beer farts is a Steve.

It’s not good beer if it doesn’t give you strong farts

“Strong” not “Bad”, OK! 😀

Depends – I am sure Steve is very proud of his strong and bad farts… who isnt when its your own !

This and suitable siren:

Yes, farts are like kids: your own are great, other peoples’ are terrible.

If you want to fight fire with fire then I’m available for hire. My rates are reasonable, accommodation and food required. I’ll bring 4 pints of Enville Ginger, I’ll soon have Steve gasping for fresh air

There’s no excuse.

Does he happen to do it every time there’s a queue at the bar? You may well be being played.

Mention it before you stench on it

Bloody amateurs….

…the correct course of action upon committing a particularly foul loon sneeze is to smile at the barmaid and declare loudly ‘Say nowt love, they’ll all think it’s me’.

Steve has paid for his pint and has every right to fart.

What’s next, Steve can’t sneeze?

We thought we had one in our local but no one would admit to it. Eventually cottoned on that the foul smell was radiating everytime one of the bar staff opened the dishwasher…..

Steve has paid for his pint and has every right to fart.

Noone has the right to fart like that.

What’s next, Steve can’t sneeze?

That depends – will the sneeze cause him to release gargantuan guff gasses?

Steve has paid for his pint and has every right to fart is expected to be a reasonable citizen of the pub.

Ftfy

I sympathise with Steve. Beer does this to me. Not one or two pints but if I make a night of it and eat crap food. I go away hillwalking a couple of times a year with a group of mates. We usually stay in a bunkhouse near a pub. Full fry ups for breakfast, snacking on pickled onions and pork scratchings all day and pub steak and chips for tea. All washed down with eleventy six pints of Scruttocks Old Dirigible or some such.

The smell in the bunkhouse after a day or two of this is off the scale. It would peel the skin off your face. It’s indescribable, truly horrific. To be be fair, it’s not just me – we all seem to suffer but I am always aghast at the unholy miasma that emanates from my clackervalve on those trips. It takes me about 3 or 4 days to detox when I get home and Mrs Bloke usually decamps to another room until I am cleansed!

He who articulated it, particulated it

The one who sang the song made the pong.

It turns out that Steve’s regular drinking circuit involves a few pints of John Smith’s at the Wetherspoon’s in the next town. Apparently he’s ejected from there once he’s stunk the place out so he rocks up to our village and a pint of Gadd’s is enough to trip the fart-fuse once again and away he goes.

Honestly, the scenes last Friday were a lot like this:

The one who sang the song made the pong.

Whoever rapped it crapped it.

This game will give you an indication of acceptability in this area:

https://www.addictinggames.com/funny/hide-the-fart

Whoever rapped it crapped it.

Whomever sensed it, dispensed it.

Just please don’t stop with the couplets. Genuine guffaws here!

Steve has paid for his pint and has every right to fart.

What’s next, Steve can’t sneeze?

Think we’ve found Steve’s forum login

What’s next, Steve can’t sneeze?

I rather suspect this would carry a greater risk.

Steve has paid for his pint and has every right to fart.

Well I never knew that.

How much farting does buying one pint allow the purchaser…… unlimited farting for the rest of the evening?

A bit like Weatherspoons ‘have as many coffee refills as you like’ deal?