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Carl did his best not to feel awkward about the situation, and was failing miserably. Each person who passed by gave him a look that asked a silent question. “Da fuck?” In response to their unasked inquiry, he would smile, shrug his shoulders a bit, and imagine himself digging a hole somewhere in the dessert so that he could die in it.

“I don’t see anything in there,” Frank called up to his buddy.

“Well, it is.”

“Are you sure? It might just be a mussel spasm or something.”

“No, its defiantly that fly.”

“Are you sure you weren’t just thinking about that big, black Philly?”

“No!”

“Carl, is there something you want to tell me? I will understand, I promise.”

Carl was feeling worse every second. Part of it was the embarrassment of the situation, but there was something new popping up. Something more physical that was hurting his very insides.

“Frank, can you please take this seriously?” Carl begged, a sinking sensation building in his bowels.

“Carl, why so serious?” Carl lowered his head, even more ashamed now than he was a second ago. Thankfully humans were to stupid to understand horse language.

 “Are you sure there isn’t anything?” His stomach gurgled. Something wasn’t right.

“Your butt is as clean as it always is. Which isn’t very.”

“No fly?”

“Nope. No fly.”

“But, it really hurts.”

Frank groaned. This was getting a little old. “Listen, buddy, there is no fly in your butt. And even if there was, it would be dead within a few seconds!” Carl’s insides began to gurgle more. He could feel something pushing its way to the back. “You get so paranoid sometimes! There is absolutely,” He could feel insides moving. “Positively,” His butt was starting to hurt even more now. “Defiantly,” Something was defiantly wrong.

Before his friend could add another description, Frank let out one of the most powerful, wettest, slimiest, foulest farts he had even given. The gas explosion rocketed out from the horse’s backside, flying at full speed for the others open mouth. Even knowing this, Carl could not help but smile as the pressure was released from his insides.

But there was another creature that might have had it worse than the poor horse, who, was about to endure the full effect of a horses ass gas. Nick, our little fly, had been shoved out, and propelled straight from the horses rear, now flying, along with the other contents of Carl’s butt, towards the inside of the other’s mouth.

“Ahh!” he screamed as he, along with several chunks of brownish black sludge, were propelled passed the horses teeth. He landed moments later on the large, pink, fleshy muscle that was the tongue.

“AHuHGUhuauf!” Frank yelled as he danced back and forth, the foul contents of his buddy’s butthole polluting his mouth, the taste of it almost bringing a tear to his eye. He spit out as much as he could, but there was no way he could remove it all.

“Did that… ugh… get in your mouth?” Carl asked, a group of humans now clustered around, starring wide-eyed at the show.

“Did it get in my mouth?” Frank repeated, chunks of the stuff still clinging to his tongue. “Of course it did you ass muncher!” Carl could not help but to think how the term “ass muncher” would be more fitting for his partner, but decided to keep his mouth shut on the topic.

 

Nick rolled around the huge expanse that was the horse’s mouth. The huge tongue moving about wildly, trying to force all the dirty droplets of filth out and away, and failing quit completely. Nick tried to climb out by himself, but whenever he tried, the tongue would always flop on top of him, pushing him back down to the gums below.

“Come on!” Nick shouted after failing for the third time in a row, spit now covering as much of his body as the brown matter did.

 

“God!” Frank shouted as he continued to gallop around, spit flying out of his mouth in all directions. “Why? Why? Why?”

“Aw man,” Carl said sheepishly. “You ugh… you all right?”

“NO! You farted in my mouth!”

 

The contents of the horse’s mouth, or what was left, was pretty thoroughly mixed at this point. What was once two separate, but equally vile, liquids, had now become one. The spit had merged with the ass juice creating a new substance that will henceforth be referred to as “ass slobber”.

The ass slobber seemed to coat every inch of the tiny fly as he was sloshed around the mouth, his tiny, frail body smashing into everything the horse was still chewing. He went face first into chunks of horse duty, was chomped on by the giant’s teeth, and even smacked around by his massive tongue and gums. By the time Frank eventually spit him out, which was longer than anyone involved was willing to admit, Nick was black and blue, hurt both mentally and physically.

That last sentence may have been a bit misleading. He was black and blue, but mostly only because that is what colors flies normally are. You have to really look for the blue, but its there. And the mental part of his pain was much less than implied. Instead of a flash back encoring trauma, it was more like a minor situation that you can shrug off after a few minutes, but always stays in the back of your mind.

The scene Nick saw when he landed with a splat on the hard concrete of the sidewalk was less than desirable. There were humans clustered all around, starring at the site before them. Some of them were actually quit cute, but Nick was in no mode to try anything. Behind him was the massive, flailing form of a horse that had no regard for where his feet landed. Even though Nick was in no actual danger, getting trampled was not something he was too thrilled about, so he took of into the air as quickly as physically possible.

 Amazingly, he was able to escape without so much as a scratch. No humans accidently swatted him, and he was not accidently ingested. He wasn’t forced into another animals behind, and he wasn’t squished in any way. Once Nick managed to fly a decent distance, he breathed a sigh of relief and said, “Well that worked out better than expected!”

Chapter End Notes:

Did you notice that I put the name of the chapter into the story text! Like OMG right?

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