Every now and then you have to swallow salt water......or in this case, sit next to a smelly truck driver in order to get to where you're going.

WARNING: CONTAINS FARTING, SCAT, AND URINATION.

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Somewhere at the edge of Furtopia was a motel in the countryside that only consisted of a few residents. One of these residents was a furry named Tyrese or Ty as his friends would call him. Tyrese had dark green fur all over his body except for his overgrown stomach, which was light green and flabby. His ears were shorts and his tail was barely noticeable, even when he was naked. All Tyrese was wearing at the moment were dirty red boxers that had a few white stripes along the side. No one really knew what Tyrese was and he never bothered disclosing that information to his friends and contacts. A lot of furries thought Tyrese was a hamster or bear and he probably was, but there was never any proof behind it. Other would speculate Tyrese of being an ogre or some kind of marsupial, but that too, was just a rumor. He didn’t have long claws, that’s for sure, and his fur was really short and his hair was tiny and spiky.

Tyrese wasn’t very hygienic either. Being a trucker, he’d constantly be traveling cross country to deliver a heavy payload to customers that would take up several hours of the day. It was very rare of him to pull over to go sleep inside a hotel and most of the time, he’d sleep in his cab or drink countless energy drinks at night to keep himself awake. He didn’t have time to shower or bathe so he just drove until he reached the destination. His job was also rapid and quick, so he barely stopped for anything except food. He couldn’t brush his teeth in the cab or put on deodorant while driving or even change his clothes; the last time he tried doing that, he wound up crashing his cab and almost got fired. So he just had to make do with what he had. But none of it really bothered Tyrese, since he was already a slob to begin with. In his cab, Tyrese had no problem withholding his flatulence or belches and just let ‘em rip whenever he felt like it. Over his past trucking adventures Tyrese had grown used to his own odor so he didn’t mind.

It was almost eight in the morning and Tyrese was busy snoring away on his bed while lying on his side, a trail of drool slithering down his face. The sunlight broke through windows of the hotel and indicated it was morning, so he groggily got out of bed and stood up, yawning and stretching his arms simultaneously. Tyrese looked around the room and noticed it was eight o’clock. He was supposed to have woken up nearly two hours ago and was running late once again. The furry grumbled to himself and walked over to the corner of the wall to pull down his boxers. When he did, he started emptying his bladder and sighed heavily as the urine splashed onto the wall. He didn’t even feel like going inside the bathroom so he just marked the wall and pulled his boxers back up This wasn’t the first time Tyrese peed inside a hotel and after the first time, he felt comfortable doing it even in public. Tyrese suddenly cocked up his leg and let off a loud stream of flatulence, wafting the smell away once it entered his nostrils.

“I really gotta find an alarm clock.”

Tyrese rushed over to a chair and put on his plaid shirt before strapping on his blue jeans with suspenders. He then got an unbuttoned blue shirt that matched his pants and had his nametag on it and put that on over the other shirt. Lastly, Tyrese snatched his blue trucker hat off the dresser and put that on over his short hair, all prepped and ready to go. Tyrese ran out of his hotel room and quickly scurried down the stairs, heading for the door.

“Sir? What about your tip?” asked the desk receptionist.

“What tip?”

“This hotel requires every guest to leave a tip once they check out.”

“Are you serious?”

“Yes.”

“Oh. In that case, I left a giant tip all over the wall for you to collect. I think it’ll suffice.”

The receptionist raised an eyebrow and Tyrese left the hotel smiling at the oblivious furry. He walked outside and hopped up to go open the door, entering the cabin and latching it shut. Tyrese was hauling a grey trailer with the word COLLECTIBLES in giant bold letters. Tyrese never asked whatever he was driving and his boss rarely told him anyway. It was just a simple job of taking this from here to there. All he had to do was ignore the weird sounds or smells inside and he’d be okay. So Tyrese put his key into the ignition and started up the truck, pulling out of the parking space and driving down the country side road. He was going nearly 20 miles over the speed limit but once again, he didn’t care. No cop ever pulled him over and actually arrested him for speeding before…although it was mostly because they couldn’t tolerate the smell of him stinking up the patrol car. But either way he put it, he was fine. Tyrese cracked his neck and took another energy drink out of the glove compartment and started chugging it with one hand and driving down the road with the other. Tyrese sighed heavily and wiped the dribble off his mouth before belching and taking another sip of the drink. Tyrese continued to drive down the road when he looked down and his stomach began to grumble.

“I should really get some roughage before my stomach starts growling so much I can’t concentrate.” mumbled Tyrese.

It was true. Tyrese always found it easier to fill his stomach sooner than later or else it would end up biting him in the ass later. He went a whole day without eating and when he finally did eat, he wound up devouring over 40 pounds worth of food in one sitting. After a huge meal like that, Tyrese could barely move for hours. So Tyrese pulled his truck up to a diner and parked it right next to a set of new shiny cars, almost scraping the wings once he opened his door. Tyrese’s stomach growled again as he walked up to the building and he quickly rushed inside, sitting down on one of the stools. A few of the patrons made some criticism about Ty’s B.O., but he just grumbled and got over it.

“What’ll it be buddy?” asked the waiter.

“The nachos, the omelets, the bowl of chili, two T-Bone steaks…pretty much anything on the menu that’d fill up someone in a hurry.” said Ty.

“Got a big appetite today, do we?”

“Ask my stomach.” said Ty as it growled again.

Ty sat on the stool and flipped a coin into the air several times over to distract his hunger. Amazingly, tossing a metal coin into the air turned ten minutes into one and a good portion of his food was handed to him on several plates. Ty didn’t even embrace the fragrance or pick which dish he should start out with first. He just lowered his head and ravenously chowed down on all the food in front of him.

“WHOA! Slow down there big fella!”

Ty shouted out an incoherent response and splattered food all over the place before he resumed eating. He grabbed a handful of nachos and shoved them into his mouth, crunching noisily on the tortilla shells. Then he picked up two chili cheese dogs and ate both of them whole, before picking up another two and eating those whole as well. Ty didn’t even bother cutting up his steak; he just grabbed a fork and lifted it into the air, biting a huge chunk out of it. Ty took another bite of the steak and it was gone, minus the bone he spat back out onto the plate. The waiter brought out another tray of food and Ty began to drool profusely before eating that smorgasbord too.

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About ten or twenty minutes later, Ty had finished up his meal. His belly had grown in diameter and was bulging over his belt line. Any bigger and it’d break the button that held up his pants. Ty sighed with relief and rubbed his stomach, satisfied with himself and stuffed to the gill. He lazily slouched off the stool and ran outside the door.

“HEY!! YOU FORGOT TO PAY!!”

Ty ran back inside and flicked a $100 bill at the waiter. Afterwards, he got back into his truck and drove back onto the country road, not stopping for anything. Like always, he drove a little over the speed limit and was still wary of his surroundings. Ty was about to guzzle down another energy drink, but as he looked outside, he saw someone waving both of their hands in the air, desperately seeking some assistance. Ty stopped his truck next to the furry and stuck his head out the window.

“You need some help?”

The furry outside was a bald eagle with a Mohawk and by the looks of it, his feathers were falling out. The eagle was wearing red pants and an open red shirt.

“Yeah, you mind giving me a ride out to Mogee’s Tavern?”

“Why can’t you just fly there?”

“I’m not one who flies out in boiling hot weather. Besides, everytime my wings start falling out I have trouble flying so it’d be best I just hitch a ride instead of risking falling to my death.”

Ty sighed and rubbed his head. “All right, get in.”

The eagle hopped into the air and unlatched the door to the cab, hopping inside the passenger’s seat and shutting the door. The eagle felt shorter inside the large cab but regardless, didn’t mind hitchhiking. Ty started up the truck and drove straight ahead, gradually accelerating to reach his destination. The eagle sniffed the air twice and groaned.

“Ugh…what’s that smell?” asked the avian, plugging his beak.

“The floor, my feet, my underarms, my hair, my boxers; take your pick.” said Ty.

“I take it you’re not into hygiene?”

“When you become a truck driver, specifically a truck driver who works for the company I do, you tend to disregard to small issues of life. Hygiene doesn’t speed up my contracts so I don’t bother with it anymore.”

“And you’re fine walking around with bad breath and B.O.?”

“Yep. Besides, you tend to get used to the smell and I was already a slob. Now I have a reason for being one.”

“I’m not gonna lie; you smell horrible. But what the hell…I gotta get to my tavern somehow.”

“If you say so.”

Ty’s stomach grumbled and he sighed, shutting his eyes and rubbing his belly.

“You alright there bud?”

“Yeah, it’s just gas; don’t worry about it.”

“…Like noisome gas or just regular gas?”

“I dunno. Maybe you ask my ass.”

Ty leaned over and blasted out a short fart, before letting out a longer, deeper one which was muffled with the seats. The smell alone made the eagle retch and he had to cover his beak to block out the odor. It smelled like a dead wet animal and rotten eggs put together, plus a hint of vinegar. Ty sighed and wafted the smell away from his posterior.

“Not too strong for you is it?

The eagle coughed a couple times. “Hey, we all do it right? Some…”

He coughed again. “Some furries have stronger flatulence than others.”

Ty lifted up his leg and blasted out another big burst of gas.

“You’re right about that birdy.”

Ty set the truck on cruise control and took off his jacket and hat, revealing his plaid shirt and suspenders to the eagle. Ty then unlocked his door and kicked it open.

“What the hell are you doing?!!” asked the avian.

“I gotta take a piss somewhere and I doubt you want to see my nether regions so I gotta go outside.”

“Don’t you wanna stop the truck first?”

“I’m on a schedule here! If I make another stop, I’m gonna be late again.”

Ty sat on his knees and unzipped his pants. The bird heard Ty sigh loudly and had a fair idea of what he was doing. If he was on the other side, he would’ve seen a furry peeing outside of a moving vehicle onto the road. The eagle tried to stay away from Ty’s stinky feet, which were practically in his face due to his size and the fact he was kneeling down. The eagle saw Ty’s pants rumble a little and heard what sounded like a balloon deflating inside of a can. After the smelly green creature sighed, the smell came in. The eagle caught wind of Ty’s malodorous backblast and retched in his mouth again, swallowing his vomit.

“Sorry bud. I tend to cut horrible urinal farts.”

“Clearly!”

Ty finished up his urination and closed the door, zipping his pants back up and sitting down to drive the truck.

“While we’re at it, how’s about you tell me how you ended up here in the first place?”

“I don’t really know. I went over to a party in Furtopia. I got high. Next thing I know…I’m lying outside in the desert. Although I do remember a giant worm getting shoved into my mouth before I blacked out…”
Ty chuckled. “You sure it was a worm?”

“Uh, hopefully.”

Ty’s stomach growled gutturally once more and Ty shifted in his seat, feeling massive abdominal pain and bloating. His gas was acting up once more, as well as some other items located in his bowels.

“I think you should roll down the window.” warned Ty.

“Why?”

Ty groaned and shut his eyes, grabbing his stomach and almost wincing in pain. He farted once before letting out a long, sputtering fart that lasted nearly five seconds.

“Wait, still more.”

Ty hiked up his leg and farted out more stinky gas in a low, trumpeting noise. The smell of the cab was gradually reeking like a steamy sewer and the eagle could smell fecal matter in the air. The eagle quickly rolled down the window and stuck his head outside, exhaling deeply and breathing in clean, non-noxious air.

“WHEW!! Ever heard of Pepto-Bismol? Or air freshener for that matter?!” asked the eagle.

“I told you, I don’t mind rolling around in my own grimy filth and stink. And in the words of Shrek…”

Ty grunted very hard and shut his eyes, lifting both legs into the air. Then he forced out a loud, bombastic fart that nearly blew the keys out of the ignition. It was so strong someone would’ve been thrown down by the speed of the hot stinky wind. The smell reminded Ty of the time he walked into his father’s bathroom while he was taking a huge dump. Perhaps the whole slobby deal derived from him. All he knew was that his farts reeked!

“Better out than in.”

The eagle sighed. “You remind me of my brothers.”

Ty leaned over and farted again, only this time, he felt something moist and wet hit the seat of his boxers.

“Did you just crap your pants?”

“No, but I’m about to.” said Ty, smiling.

Ty started grunting with one eye closed and put the truck into cruise control, making fists with both hands. The stout green furry let off another two tiny poots before he felt a turd squeezing its way between his butt cheeks.

“Here it…comes!!”

Ty let the long turd drop into his shorts and he sharted out another messy pile of poop. He sighed heavily and began to lie back in his seat as his boxers grew warmer and warmer each second. The eagle, fully disgusted, threw half his body out of the truck and vomited with his head sticking out the window. Meanwhile, Ty lifted his leg and let loose another heaping pile of dung into his boxers, sighing with relief and letting out another wet fart. If Ty stood up, the eagle would’ve noticed the seat of his pants were brown and had grown a little in diameter. But he still wasn’t finished. Ty leaned over and let out a humongous stinky blast of wind, now muffled by all the poop, and slowly let some more dung fall out his buttocks.

“Man…that’s a relief!”

The eagle finished vomiting and went back into the cab with his nose plugged.

“Please tell me you have a gasmask!”

“Sure, here you go.”

The eagle quickly put the gasmask on and deeply inhaled the fresh air.

“That’s better.” said the avian, his voice echoing.

The eagle looked forward and gasped…because the tube was connected to the seat of his pants. Ty smiled devilishly and farted into the tube. The eagle instantly caught wind of the gas and started screaming and coughing, unable to get the mask off. Ty merely threw his head back and laughed heartily.

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Several hours later, Ty and the eagle arrived at their destination and Ty backed up the trailed truck into the station he was traveling to. The station was a regular shipping site that imported and exported materials out of the country. Many other truckers were there and the whole area was rife with noise and shouting. Ty hopped out of the cab with his hat and shirt back on and the eagle practically fell out, still grossed out by the odor. Ty’s supervisor saw his truck and approached him.

“Right on time Ty. A minute longer and our employer would’ve cancelled the contract.”

Ty’s supervisor sniffed the air twice and stepped back a few feet waving a hand in front of his nose.

“What the hell is that smell?!!?”

“I don’t have a toilet in my cab Donnie!”

“Well you got the cargo here on time, so I guess that’s all that matters. And you even brought a birdy as a bonus.”

“No he was just hitchhiking and I put him through the ‘test’ again.”

Donnie chuckled. “I see he passed.”

“Yeah, let me go check up on him.”

Ty walked back to the other side of his cab and saw the eagle lying on the ground coughing and gasping for air.

“Thank you for driving me this far, but it’s almost nighttime now and it’s not so hot so I should be able to—”

“You passed.”

The eagle huffed. “What?!”

“After this gruesome murder involving one of our truckers and a hitchhiker we decided to make a test about how much hitchhikers can tolerate their driver.”

“…WHAT!?!”

“Some of these truckers are a bit…maniacal and they tend to get pissed off if you make even the smallest comment. So we do things to hitchhikers to test their tolerable level.”

“…So you shit your pants just to prove how high I can tolerate irritable truck drivers?”

“No, I shit my pants because I didn’t feel like stopping; that’s not the point. From what I can tell, you could tolerate a cub screaming in your ear for twelve hours which is good around these parts. Whenever we test someone, we see whether or not they’re going to yell and cuss out their driver. If they do that, then they should never hitchhike again or else they’ll end up like that dead furry. If they tolerate whatever they do, like you did with me, then they’ll be safe.”

“Let me get this straight: You and several other truckers test hitchhikers’ tolerance by performing lewd acts just to see if they’re capable of hitchhiking again and if they aren’t tolerable, then they should never hitchhike again because they might run into an insane trucker, piss him off and get him or herself killed?”

“Pretty much yeah.”

“Since you’re done with your delivery, can you give me a ride?”

“I still got gas, so you know what that means.”

“Then can you show me someone who can drive me directly to the tavern?”

“Sure. Ask Geiger.”

The eagle turned around and saw a brown otter tossing a knife up and down as he smiled devilishly.

“Why-why does he have a knife?”

“He likes to test people by throwing his knife at his victim’s crotch and narrowly missing their testicles. …Uh, birdy?”

Ty turned around and saw the eagle flapping his wings as fast as he could in the sky, disappearing into the clouds. It wasn’t that the bird had low tolerance…but there was no way in hell he’d ride with an otter who tried to castrate furries.