Gastrointestinal Blues by Donald Rump (Amazon Exclusive!)

Now Available!

After leaving his posh position at the Department of Motor Vehicles, Mackelroy Puggsley thought he'd smelled the last psychotic fart to rattle his feeble brain. But in his new role as a psychologist, he quickly realizes that the problem is more widespread than he imagined.

Will a crazed client and his gassy brides prevent the old man from getting one last piece of nookie? Or will Mackelroy talk his way out of another bizarre situation and live to see another hair pie?

For mature audiences. Approximately 3,400 words in all.

EXCERPT FROM GASTROINTESTINAL BLUES

“So what do you think, doctor?” The sexy blond smiled.

“I’d say they’re 36DDs.” Mackelroy Puggsley gazed at her perky breasts.

“No, what do you think about everything I just said?”

“I’m sorry, Miss Schmutley. I didn’t realize you were speaking.” The old man scratched his snowy beard. He needed to get a handle on his new gig as a psychologist—next month’s rent payment depended on it! But it sure beat the hell out of filing paperwork at the DMV, a dull job that had turned surprisingly hazardous. “Would you mind repeating the last thing you said?”

Allison stared at him blankly. “So what do you think, doctor?”

“Definitely 36DDs.” He nodded. “No, wait. Tell me what you said just before that.”

“I’m not sure what to do.”

“Keep going.”

“And to make matters worse, the neighbor’s dog keeps sneaking into my house and peeing in my underwear drawer,” she said.

“Do you lock your doors and windows before leaving for work?” Mackelroy asked.

“Always.”

“And there aren’t any holes or secret passages that lead into the house?”

“Not unless they can come through the toilet.”

“Have you ever given your keys to a neighbor or friend?”

“Once, when I went to the Bahamas.”

“Well Miss Schmutley, I don’t think you have to worry about your neighbor’s dog anymore, and I highly doubt it’s urine.”

“Oh, thank goodness,” she exhaled. “Anything but that.”

“Most likely it’s, uh…”

“Yes, Dr. Puggsley?”

Four Stinky Stories Volume 1 by Donald Rump

Now Available!

"…absurd, rude, vulgar and better than I expected it to be." --S.J. Nolan

"Seriously if someone needs a laugh, I highly recommend this book." --Cinisajoy

"What man doesn't think flatulence is still an important, interesting, entertaining, even exciting aspect of our everyday lives? A man who hasn't been taught the fine art of bottling a fart, that's who." --Angry Games

PRODUCT DESCRIPTION

Celebrating the best of fart fiction, Donald Rump brings you four flatulent tales of love, betrayal and everyone's favorite green gas in one unforgettable volume.

Intended for mature audiences. Approximately 11,000 words in all.

BOTTLING FARTS

Could the greatest power…

The path to riches beyond our wildest imagination…

The key to reaching the highest level of spiritual awareness and happiness…

…be obtained by bottling farts???

"Shh…it's our secret…" Vlad told the little boy. "Use the power wisely…"

THE CHAPPED-ASS CRITIC

Zack Pimpton's ass never felt worse, and it doesn't help that his doctor is a part time comedian. Unfortunately, Zack is quite the bastard himself and accidentally says the wrong thing that causes the mild-mannered doctor to snap.

GOING DUTCH

Barnabus Prim has reached the end of his rope. Drowning in debt and married to an obnoxious wife who can't stand the sight of him, he decides to do the unthinkable. But finding a way to the afterlife proves more difficult than he imagined.

MARRIAGE STINKS

Mackelroy Puggsley thought he'd heard everything until an odd man named Bilby Bloob shows up in the DMV lobby one morning. When Bilby demands a marriage license for his gassy wife, the old man puts his foot down. Sure, it's one thing to marry your high school sweetheart, but a fart? Who in the world marries farts?

Marriage Stinks by Donald Rump

Now available on Donald Rump Direct, Amazon,
Barnes & Noble, Smashwords and Tradebit!

Mackelroy Puggsley thought he'd heard it all until an odd man named Bilby Bloob shows up in his lobby one morning. When Bilby demands a marriage license for his gassy wife, the old man puts his foot down. Sure, it's one thing to marry your high school sweetheart, but a fart? Who in the world marries farts?

"Well I'm not going anywhere until you give us a marriage license," Bilby insisted.

"Is that so?" Mackelroy cracked his knuckles.

Marriage Stinks is a work of fart fiction. It is intended for mature audiences, and is approximately 3,500 words in length.

EXCERPT FROM MARRIAGE STINKS

“Hey there, buddy.” A middle-aged man with thick, unkempt sideburns stepped up to the counter. He wore a coffee-colored t-shirt with palm trees on it and crinkly, blue shorts that fell past his knees.

“Well, good morning.” Mackelroy Puggsley took in the odd view. “How may I be of service?”

“You sell marriage licenses, right?”

“Unfortunately, we do.” Mackelroy stroked his short, snowy beard. The mere mention of marriage brought back bitter memories of his recent divorce. “But if you’d prefer a quick death, perhaps I can interest you in a motorcycle license instead,” the old man quipped.

“Nah, that’s all right. A standard marriage license will do.”

“Are you sure? It isn’t too late to change your mind. No one else has to know about it but us. It can be our secret,” Mackelroy whispered, careful not to offend any of the female patrons within earshot of him.

“Don’t worry about me. I won’t be changing my mind anytime soon. She’s a really great…uh…woman.”

“Is that so?”

“The absolute best.”

“Trust me, that’s what they all say.” Mackelroy considered the wiry, pathetic man for an instant. “Very well. But when you’re lying on your deathbed, just remember that I tried to talk some sense into you.” He reached into the drawer and pulled out a fresh certificate.

“Could you make that to go?” the man asked.

“To go? What do you think this is, some sort of fast food restaurant? I realize that cannabis is legal in the great state of Colorado and everyone’s on a rocky mountain high, but this isn’t a drive-through. It’s the DMV! Would you like a side of fries while you’re at it? How about some extra cheese for that shit sandwich that you’re serving up?” Mackelroy crossed his arms.

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