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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1996006-Cow-Fart-Mishap
Rated: E · Chapter · Fantasy · #1996006
A boy who decides on a potion for science class, but things go wrong. Unedited, chapter 1.
2 days after the incident:
Arlo Chimera stumbles into Professor John Ashlock's office nervously. The professor is sitting behind his falsely large desk (Made large by magic), rubbing his temples. "Sir, you called me in?" Arlo asks.
Startled, Ashlock looks up, "Yes, sit. We're going to talk about your little... mishap."
A look of fear swept over Arlo's face and posture, causing him to sit up awkwardly. He watches fearfully as the professor ruffles through his drawer, half expecting a notice of expulsion to be pulled out. "I'm sorry sir," he blurts. "I didn't mean... It'll never happen again, I promise."
The professor pulls out an internet news article. "Calm down Arlo," he says tiredly, "You are not being expelled or disciplined. We won't even send a note to your parents." Arlo begins to relax. "But I won't be giving you an 'A' on the project."
Arlo nods, "Understood,"
"Good." The Professor slides over the News Article, "This is what we're giving the press."

Argentina Scientists Are Now Attaching Backpacks To Collect Cow Farts
Scientists in Argentina may have just the answer to combat global warming.
With cows being responsible for up to 25 percent of the methane gas released in the US each year, a group of scientists at Argentina's National Institute of Agricultural Technology is now attaching backpacks to cows to collect the animals'...farts.

Here's the way it works: Tubes connected to the cows' digestive tracks are collected and then stored in the backpack. Scientists say that the farts collected each day could produce enough energy to run a car or refrigerator for an entire 24 hours.
While the likelihood of this becoming a mainstream form of energy production is quite slim, the Argentine scientists say these silent but deadly bovine deeds could be used to power remote farms.



"But now," the Professor continues, "you need to tell me what really happened."

2 days before the incident:
         Professor Ashlock paces at the front of the class in his new "fly high," shoes. He seemed proud of them, even though they were probably the cheapest pair of flying shoes in all of upper world. "Welcome class," he begins, "today is the day you've all been waiting for." A collective groan stretches across the classroom of thirteen students. They all knew what he meant. "You're exactly right," he continues, enjoying the enjoying the students' discomfort, "today we start your science project. After three weeks of learning how to make potions, it's time for you to make your own potion. Here are the rules." Ashlock snaps his fingers and a syllabus drops on each student's desk. "Since some of you don't like to read, I will point out a few specific rules. The first is; you may not choose a potion that will purposely kill, maim, or hurt another person. Andrew," He glares at a girl in the back of the class.
         She raises her hands and says, "What? Just because I created a spell to break a person's arm, doesn't mean I'm going to do it with a potion. I'd rather make a wart grower."
         The professor ignores her, "Second, you may not use a recipe, you must think of the basic components on your own and put it together with what knowledge you already have. That goes for you too Jean," he looks at a boy in the front row. Jean blushes and ducks his head. "Third, you must find the ingredients, not buy them. Transportation to find your ingredients will be provided, so long as it is for the project alone," Ashlock looks pointedly at the couple to his left. "You have one week to complete the project. Any questions?" but before anyone can raise their hand, he says, "good, begin. Get in groups and head out." Without checking that they had done this, Professor Ashlock gathered up his things and melted through the ground slowly.
         The whole classroom broke out in commotion as the students gathered into groups of two. The only problem with their pairings was, Arlo didn't get a partner. In fact, they didn't even notice he was in the room. To them, he was a ghost, just like his friend Wilson. When everyone had cleared the room, Arlo got up sadly, feeling forgotten. When he looked up, he saw Wilson.
         Arlo was so use to Wilson just popping out of nowhere, he didn't flinch, "Hello Wilson."
         "Hey Arlo," Wilson said, looking around, "forgotten again?" Arlo just looked at him, "Sorry, didn't mean it like that."
         "It's okay," Arlo answered, picking up his things, "So, are you up to helping me with something?"
         "Sure, what is it?"
         "Science project. I have to create a potion."
         "Talking to yourself again psycho?" A girl sneers, leaning against the door, her arms folded over her middle.
         Arlo looks up, "Leave me alone Josephine. Go find your partner and start on your project. It's what you're supposed to be doing." He looks down at her as he walks out the door.
         "It's Jo, you idiot. Josephine is a boy's name." She taps her feet, trying to think of a better insult. A devious smile crosses her face, "For someone so tall and skinny, you take up a lot of space. Like a clown on stilts, flailing about for his act."
         He ignored her as he walked down the hall.
         "She's right you know," Wilson says above him.
         "What, about me being a psycho?"
         "No, about your size, Dummy."
         Arlo ignored him too. But he was right. Arlo was six feet tall at one hundred-twenty pounds, yet with how clumsy he was, he might as well have been three hundred pounds.
Taking a right down a hallway, he heads to his dorm room to think. One of the perks of being a loner is, no one wants to share a room with you, except for your overly friendly ghost, Wilson.
         Once in his dorm, Arlo paced around the floor, thinking, "What should I make?" he muttered to himself.
         "Make everyone like you potion?" Wilson offered jokingly.
         "Too complicated."
         "Ya, especially for you." Wilson drifts over to the window. "How about make your farts smell like roses potion?" He smiles laughingly.
         "Too simple, and way over done. It's the first potion any level one student learns, I'm a level three."
         "True, how about a potion to turn people into cartoons."
         "That's just stupid."
         "Oh, come on," Wilson laments. "You're so boring. What you really need is a good laughing potion."
         Arlo looks up and smiles, "Thank you Wilson."
         "What? What did I do?" Wilson looks confused.
         "Laughing potion. I'm going to make it."
         "...Alright, how?" Wilson is confused and amused by the idea.
         "Well, the first few ingredients are easy, jolly fruit juice, they grow it on the edge of the school, a ray of light from sunset, just have to wait a few hours to catch it, three dragon scales." Arlo turns to the black miniature dragon sitting on his bed, "Ash, could you stand up?" he takes a small handful of fallen scales from beneath the dragon. "And the last ingredient, a small box of methane."
         "Methane!" Wilson sputters, "Do you know how hard it is to find that here?"
         "Here, yes, all we have to do is find a cow. Their farts are made of methane."
         "But cows only exist on..."
         "Earth," Arlo interrupts, "Yes, I know."
         "But we're nowhere near Earth. This is Boreetha, Earth is really far away."
         "Easy to fix, all I need is a portal to Earth, somewhere remote, like Argentina. They have cow farms there, right?"
         "Dairy farms, yes. But..."
         "Awesome. Let's go collect ingredients." Arlo claps his hands together, dropping all the scales on the floor. "Darn it." He bends to pick them up as Wilson laughs hysterically.

1 day before the incident:
         "I would like a two way trip to a remote... dairy farm in... Argentina, please." Arlo speaks into a black box in the portal station near the school. It's extremely early in the morning, the best time to take a portal. No lines to wait in.
         "Payment plan?" the box asks in a soothing voice.
         "Mid Pacific School for Wizards and Enchantraces."
         "Verification code."
         "29753."
         There is a short pause, then "Insert left hand." He puts his hand in the hole to his left. There's a small pinch as a chip is implanted in his hand. "The chip will be removed upon your return. To return, press the chip for five seconds. Have a nice trip." Almost immediately, Arlo is transported to the inside of a barn. From what he can tell, it's close to sunset in Argentina. He looks out the window, it's so strange to only see one sun. I'm so use to two. How does their world not freeze. How does any world not freeze with only one sun?"
         At first, Arlo feels a bit woozy, but shrugs it off. Probably just my particles being dispersed and reconfigured in an alternate location, he thought to himself. Now to get to business. Arlo starts by choosing a cow and placing a magic ring around the cow's farting hole. The cow was startled until he put it to sleep. Sleeping cows produce better methane. He then connects a tube made out of air to the small box in his hand. It's an hour before the box is half way filled.
         Tired of holding the box up, Arlo places a spell on it to hold itself up. Moments after he places the spell, he passes out, not knowing why.

The incident:
         Dazed, and not knowing where he is, Arlo wakes up, covered in hay. He looks around and suddenly the memories come back to him. He was in a dairy farm in Argentina, filling up a box with methane from a cow's farts. He looks over at the box to see the progress and sees it floating in a cloud of slowly growing methane. Plugging his nose, Arlo releases the box and closes its lid.
         Once he places the box in his backpack, Arlo presses and holds the portal chip in his hand, nothing happens. He must be out of range, so he goes to the barn door, it's locked. Rubbing his hands together, he conjures up a spell to unlock it. It works and he pushes the door open. But in the midst of opening the door, he knocks over a loud amount of tools.
         
         A few yards away, in house next to the barn, the commotion wakes up the farmer. Terrified of robbers, he calls the police, telling them that someone was in the barn. Within the hour, the Argentina police arrive as Arlo is trying to put the tools back up, but failing.
         The police talk to him in a language he can't understand as they put him in cuffs and detain him. "I don't understand what you're saying," he says confused. He thought all Earthians spoke the same language as all the other worlds did, English. But apparently not.

         They took him to a prison, and stuck him in a cell by himself. It was the middle of the night now. Eventually, someone who spoke English came to ask him questions.
         "Why were you at the barn?" He asked.
         "Strait to the point huh?" Arlo responded.
         "Answer the question." The man had a thick accent that Arlo could barely understand.
         "I was collecting methane," Arlo said bluntly.
         "From where, and why?"
         Before Arlo could answer, a woman walked up and said, "He doesn't have to answer that. He's an American citizen and I'm his attorney. You can talk to me. I have the answers you want."
         "This is Argentina, we do things differently here." The man says and turns back to Arlo, who was very confused.
         "Such as condemn a young man for something he was told to do?" the woman responded. "This young man was instructed by the scientists of Argentina to go to that barn and collect the methane from the cow farts."
         "What about the farmer? He called the police. Did he make it up?"
         "No, he's an old man who forgot and got startled from his sleep by the noise. You can ask him now if you would like. But you no longer have grounds to hold this young man. If you would unlock the cell, I will take him back home." The woman smiles at him sweetly, but triumphantly.
         "I will be right back," the man grumbles, defeated. He mumbles something under his breath that sounded like, "Stupid Americans."
         Arlo had watched the whole encounter, getting more and more confused as they went on. "How did you..."
         "Just play along," the woman said, "John Ashlock sent me. It will all be explained later."
         The man comes back with a key and unlocks Arlo's cell, "You may go."

Back where we started (2 days after the incident):
         "And that's what happened," Arlo ended. "By the way, how did you find me? Or even know I was in trouble?"
         "Whenever a student leaves the school through a portal, there is a tracker put into their teleportation chip. We then monitor the area you're sent to. When the farmer made that call, we heard it." The professor looked tired.
         Arlo nods, "I see. Did you modify the farmer's mind to make him think that I was supposed to be there?"
         "Yes we did. And because of this little mishap, we have to continue the 'research.' If it was my choice, I would have just let you stay there for a few months." Ashlock got up from his desk, "You may go now. Go finish your project."
         "Yes sir," Arlo said, nodding his head and left. He was one step closer to leaving this place. Perhaps he would go to lower world, a place where none of these fools could get to him.


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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1996006-Cow-Fart-Mishap