The morning air over Windopolis had finally cleared after the chaos of Flatulent Fiend's failed gas attack. Still, the city’s hero duo, FartMan and his newfound partner, Fart Smeller, weren’t ready to rest just yet. Something still lingered in the air—an unsettling stench that Fart Smeller couldn’t shake.

As they walked through the bustling streets of Windopolis, with people going about their daily lives, Fart Smeller’s large, twitching nose lifted toward the sky. He would stop, sniff, and frown every few steps as if analyzing an invisible threat only he could sense.

“Something’s wrong,” Fart Smeller muttered, his voice low and concerned.

FartMan, striding confidently beside him, let out a light chuckle. “Come on, Smeller. The air smells pretty clean to me.” He punctuated his statement with a small fart, using his Gust of Justice to send a playful breeze into the sky.

Fart Smeller shot him a look, his nose twitching faster now. “No, it’s not that. This is different—subtle, but there’s something synthetic in the air. It’s the same trace I picked up when we stopped Flatulent Fiend. I think someone else might be behind that attack… someone bigger.”

FartMan raised an eyebrow. “Bigger than Flatulent Fiend? What, is there a Grandmaster of Gas somewhere I don’t know about?”

But Fart Smeller wasn’t laughing. “We need to check the Gasworks. Something’s happening underground, I can feel it.”

The Gasworks Investigation

The Windopolis Central Gasworks was a sprawling complex of twisting pipes, towering smokestacks, and the constant hum of machinery that kept the city’s gas distribution running smoothly. It was the heart of the city’s energy and sanitation systems, and it was where Fart Smeller insisted their investigation begin.

As they entered the facility, they were greeted by a wiry, bespectacled man with grease stains on his overalls and a perpetually nervous expression. This was Gas Greg, the Gasworks maintenance chief.

“Whoo, boy!” Greg exclaimed, his eyes widening at the sight of FartMan and Fart Smeller. “Never thought I’d see the heroes of Windopolis down here in the guts of the city. What brings you boys to my neck of the pipes?”

Fart Smeller wasted no time. “Greg, have there been any strange readings in the gas systems? Anything out of the ordinary?”

Greg scratched his head, glancing around like he expected something to jump out at him. “Now that you mention it… yeah. We’ve had some odd pressure spikes the last few nights. Almost like someone’s been messin’ with the pipes. But I couldn’t find anything when I checked. Just… the smell. It ain’t right.”

“That’s it,” Fart Smeller said, his eyes narrowing. “Someone’s tampering with the system. Can you show us where these spikes were?”

Greg led them through the labyrinth of pipes and machinery, down into the deep, dark tunnels where the city's gas infrastructure was housed. The deeper they went, the thicker the air became with an eerie, pungent smell—something neither natural nor mechanical.

Finally, they arrived at a rusted old section of the Gasworks that hadn’t been touched in years. Greg pointed to a cluster of valves and gauges. “This here is where the pressure spikes keep happening. But no one ever comes down here, ‘cept for me, and I’d know if something was out of place.”

Fart Smeller took a deep breath, his nose twitching uncontrollably. “Something is definitely out of place.” His nostrils flared. “There’s a hidden control room behind this wall.”

The Secret Room

FartMan and Greg stared at him in disbelief, but Fart Smeller was already moving. He followed the scent, his hands running over the old brick wall until he found a loose stone. With a firm tug, the stone shifted, revealing a hidden panel behind it.

“Smeller,” FartMan said, impressed despite himself. “I don’t know how you do it.”

Fart Smeller shrugged, focused on his task. “When your nose is as good as mine, you can find anything.”

The panel slid open to reveal a narrow passage, barely wide enough for one person. The stench pouring out of it was overwhelming, like rotten eggs and industrial waste mixed with a hint of burnt rubber.

They cautiously made their way through the passage, eventually coming to a large, hidden room filled with sophisticated machinery—more advanced than anything Greg had ever seen in the Gasworks. At the center of the room was a massive, glowing screen displaying a detailed map of Windopolis, marked with red dots. There were several large tanks of gas stacked against the far wall, each labeled with “Highly Toxic.”

“Well, this isn’t suspicious at all,” FartMan said, glancing at the blinking red lights on the map. “What do you think this is, Smeller?”

Fart Smeller’s nose was twitching furiously. “This… this is a control room for a coordinated gas attack. Whoever’s behind this is planning something big, and they’re using the city’s infrastructure to do it.”

As they studied the map, a noise from the far end of the room caught their attention. A group of shadowy figures in sleek, black gas-proof suits entered the room, armed with strange-looking canisters strapped to their backs. The leader, a tall, imposing figure with a gas mask, stepped forward.

“So, the infamous FartMan and his smelly sidekick have found us,” the masked man said, his voice muffled but menacing. “Too bad for you, your time is up.”

The League of Pungency

Before FartMan could react, the man pressed a button on his wrist, and the tanks at the back of the room began to hum ominously. Gas started leaking from the tanks, filling the room with a thick, green cloud of toxic fumes.

FartMan’s eyes widened. “You’ve got to be kidding me!”

The leader of the group laughed darkly. “Allow me to introduce myself. I am Putrid Paul, second-in-command of the League of Pungency. We are the masterminds behind the recent stink attacks in Windopolis. And you, FartMan, are about to be our latest victims.”

With a wave of his hand, the gas-masked henchmen surged forward, attacking FartMan and Fart Smeller in a flurry of stink bombs and toxic clouds.

FartMan leapt into action, launching himself into the air with a powerful fart blast, using his Gust of Justice to clear some of the gas clouds. “You’ve picked the wrong day to mess with Windopolis, buddy!”

Meanwhile, Fart Smeller darted between the henchmen, his nose guiding him through the thick clouds of gas. He could sense where each of them was going to attack before they even made a move, using his quick reflexes to dodge and counter with his Gas Neutralizer spray.

Greg, watching from the shadows, was frozen in awe and horror. “These guys are the real deal,” he muttered to himself.

The Battle

The fight escalated as FartMan unleashed his signature move, The Atomic Blast, sending a shockwave of gas that knocked several henchmen off their feet. But Putrid Paul was not so easily defeated. He activated his own gas-powered suit, propelling himself into the air with a burst of green fumes and launching gas grenades at the heroes.

“Get clear, Smeller!” FartMan shouted as he dodged a particularly nasty stink bomb.

But Fart Smeller had already sniffed out the solution. “There’s a control valve near the back! If we can shut off the gas tanks, we can cut off their power source!”

Nodding, FartMan flew toward the back of the room, dodging gas grenades and stink bombs as he went. Fart Smeller, guided by his nose, quickly found the hidden valve. He grabbed the wheel and spun it with all his strength, shutting off the flow of gas just as FartMan reached the tanks.

With the gas supply cut, the green clouds dissipated, and Putrid Paul’s suit lost its power. He stumbled mid-air before crashing to the ground with a heavy thud.

“NO!” Putrid Paul roared, struggling to get to his feet. “You’ve ruined everything!”

FartMan stood over him, fists on his hips. “That’s what we do.”

The Warning

With the gas tanks disabled and the henchmen either knocked out or retreating, FartMan and Fart Smeller turned their attention back to the map of Windopolis. The red dots still blinked ominously.

“This was just one part of the plan,” Fart Smeller said, his voice grim. “They’ve already planted gas bombs across the city. This attack isn’t over.”

Before they could question Putrid Paul further, the screen in the control room flickered to life, and the face of a new figure appeared—a shadowy figure with glowing red eyes, his face obscured by swirling clouds of gas.

“Well done, FartMan,” the figure said, his voice dripping with malice. “But this is only the beginning. My name is Lord Putrid, and soon, all of Windopolis will fall under the control of the League of Pungency. You won’t stop what’s coming.”

The screen went dark, leaving FartMan and Fart Smeller in tense silence.

FartMan cracked his knuckles. “Looks like we’ve got our work cut out for us.”

Fart Smeller sniffed the air one last time. “We’ll stop them. One stink at a time.”

End of Episode 2

As the duo exited the Gasworks, the sun began to set over Windopolis. The battle had been won, but the war was far from over. With the League of Pungency still plotting in the shadows, FartMan and Fart Smeller knew that the city’s future was hanging by a thread of gas—and they were the only ones who could save it.