I've just come home from a long day, excited for a costume party that we are attending tonight. After gushing for a moment about my excitement at getting to go out for the first time in forever, I quickly head off to the bathroom to put on my costume. A little while later, and after some assistance from you, I model off my Violet Beauregarde costume! I try to turn on the air pump to inflate the suit to 'blueberry' size and soon realize that it's broken! I'm devastated. It took so long to put this whole getup on and do my makeup just like hers' once she's a blueberry, just for it to have...

I've just come home from a long day, excited for a costume party that we are attending tonight. After gushing for a moment about my excitement at getting to go out for the first time in forever, I quickly head off to the bathroom to put on my costume. A little while later, and after some assistance from you, I model off my Violet Beauregarde costume! I try to turn on the air pump to inflate the suit to 'blueberry' size and soon realize that it's broken! I'm devastated. It took so long to put this whole getup on and do my makeup just like hers' once she's a blueberry, just for it to have a broken pump?! As I fidget with the battery pack, a loud bubbly fart surprises the both of us and I sheepishly admit that I had some Mexican food on the way home. You warn about what that does to me and I exclaim that I know what it does, and that I was just hungry, alright? Another intense fart startles us once again, confirming that I did indeed eat the kind of food which does this kind of thing to me. Eventually, after a few farts later, you see an idea dawn on my face. I lift my leg, releasing another loud bubbler, and then smile at you. My idea, if it hadn't occurred to you yet, is to inflate the suit with my own gas! Mexican food provides a pretty nonstop source of it, so why not take advantage? I now spend the next while moving around in the suit to expel ripper after ripper out of my rear end! To both of our surprise, it starts working, too! I joke around, embracing my goofball ways, while I slowly fill the suit with fetid humid air. I remark that it's definitely a bit swampy in here, but it should all be fine. However, not all is fine. As the suit gets bigger and bigger, I start to express my concerns. The gas is definitely trapped in the suit, but the gas itself is not stopping. A small amount of air does escape at the neck hole, making me rethink some of my recent choices as it enters my nose. My arms start to stick straight out to the sides, as the hot fart fumes continue to do their business. I honestly don't think I can stop farting, which means this suit won't stop inflating. I soon change tactics and ask for your help to get out of the suit, but you just laugh at my predicament. You say you'll just have to roll me to the party at this point, while laughing the entire time. My asking turns to pleading as I beg you to release me from this gas inflated trap of smelly doom. Your reply is to take out your phone and record me! In my frustration at turning into an actual blueberry, but the rotten version of one, I beg you to grab some scissor from the kitchen and pop me already! Again, you make no move to help, while being thoroughly amused at my situation. So, I'm stuck in a blue suit inflated to the max with my own heated wet farts, while little bits of rank air escape on to my reared back face. The tiny bit of deflation that happens with those tiny rank releases are quickly remedied with yet another juicy butt blast, which fill the suit right back up. Well, it's official, this has to be the worst idea I've ever had.