Original Description:

“Every year in Phillydelphia, a contest is held. A contest of prowess, skill, and might. A contest... of flatulence.

Flatcomp is a beloved tradition that hails ponies from all over Equestria to let their gas out in extraordinary ways. In the past, only about a quarter of participants were mares, but as times have grown more and more progressive, more and more females are ready and willing to let it rip for thousands to see.

One mare who has always been part of the competition however, despite the gender ratios of old, is Rainbow Dash. A staunch Ladette who's always found flatulence entertaining, especially her own, Flatcomp was like a second home to her. And as her favorite yearly tradition welcomes more and more mares, Rainbow is delighted to do some cooking with gas each and every year, including bringing some friends along for the ride.

---

"Flatcomp" concept taken from Gassipons and their story Locked In, with a couple things changed.”

—

This was an attempt to expand on the “Flatcomp” idea presented in Gassipons’ story Locked In. It was going to be a whole bunch of stories that took place over the course of one year’s competition, and the story of the contest’s founder. Only got to writing as much as I did here though

Even made a custom cover image for it.

Mane 6 Prologue

Rainbow Dash slammed open her locker in excitement, all her flights and excersices for the week finally done and the long-awaited weekend finally here.

"Hey, Dash," Soarin said as he walked in.

"Heya," Rainbow replied. "So, y'lookin' forward to this weekend with the crew?"

Soarin sighed. "No, not more than any other year. Depolluting the air after Flatcomp is always the worst weekend to be a Wonderbolt."

Rainbow chuckled. "Well, sucks to be on then recieving end of what I'll be dishing out. Hey, maybe when you're sniffing in all those rancid farts, you'll think of me!" Soarin rolled his eyes.

Rainbow's true love was flying, this much was true. But she also had a seperate, much less socially acceptable passion: farting. Even though a couple of her friends did enjoy this... "hobby" almost as much as she did, there was a time when she had never really found a place where she could really congregate with a group other ponies who shared her disgusting hobby.

But once a year, when Flatcomp rolled around, she suddenly got to express that passion to the world, and it was wonderful.

Rainbow gave Soarin a playful slap on the flank. "Aw, buck up, pal. I'm sure you and the crew will do fine. It's just a little stink. Don't sweat it."

"Easy for one of the ponies making the stink to say," a raspy voice called from the edge of the locker room.

"Oh, so you're suddenly against the idea of farting for recreation, eh, Spitfire?" Rainbow rebutted. "I've heard some of your rippers in the break room and you seemed pretty damn proud of them."

"Yeah, I can drop some pretty good bombs when I want to, but I've got a reputation to uphold! Not all of us are carefree enough to just get up on stage and fart our flanks off in front of the world, y'know."

"Yeah, whatever," Rainbow said, finally ready to leave, jacket and goggles on and bags in tow. "I gotta get home. Need to prepare some pretty epic farts for the crew to smell the weekend." She was just about out the door when she called "but hey, before I go...".

Spitfire and Soarin turned around only for Rainbow to lift her right hind leg and blast a three-second ripper right into the locker room.

"...I just wanted to give y'all a little taste. See ya next Monday! Ha!" she said as she hastily flew off.

Sally Greensmoke: Where It All Farted

Sally Greensmoke was an average green Pegasus mare with a messy dark brown mane with light brown highlights, purple eyes, braces, and freckles. She was a socially awkward pony, who spoke with a very noticeable lisp.

Ever since she was a young filly, Sally was a loud, proud, and rude about her gas, on both fronts. Her crude emissions would normally embarrass any mare her age, but she loved them and she was, almost to a fault, not afraid to show it. She burped out loud when she needed to burp, even in the middle of class, she farted when she needed to fart, regardless of who could hear or who was downwind, and she took no shame whatsoever. She out-belched and out-farted every colt and stallion that stepped to her in every grade through her entire pre-adult life. Umbecoming of a young mare? Please. It was unbecoming of all those boring adults to try and stop her.

Sally was not a popular student in the traditional sense. Her rude antics were seen as disruptive and annoying by her upperclassponies and teachers alike.

Whatever, she thought. Those stuck-up philistines just didn't know how to have fun.

And behavior aside, Sally was also a very nerdy young girl. She was a noted theater geek for one.

One day, Sally and some of her more traditionally feminine friends were having a sleepover. Brittany Spotlight, a popular student who had taken a liking to Samantha's no-fucks-given personality and pity upon her unpopularity, had decided to allow her into their clique, much to the initial dismay of some of the other members. Normally such an unpopular and gross mare wouldn't make it in, but having her around always ended up being a good time, so the group and her ended up really bonding, despite their... differing levels of social class.

During this sleepover, Brittany's mother had ordered her daughter and her friends a special. Sally's favorite food; Cloudsdale Chili Dogs. That on top of all the soda she drank meant something was brewing in Samantha's gut. Something big. Something lifechanging.

"Careful, everyone," Brittany warned the other mares, "Princess Poots-A-Lot here might stink up the room."

Sally chuckled, an audible snort escaping her nose. "'Might'? You underestimate me." Her stomach gurgled and she let the first fart escape.

Brittany chuckled playfully. "You're so gross, Greensmoke."

Sally smiled proudly. "Thanks." She passed gas yet again, this time for even longer.

—

The room stood empty of mares save Sally herself, who deeply breathed in the stench of her own gas. This was a new accomplishment for her. For the first time, Sally had actually cleared a room.

She broke into laughter, snorting all the way. "Hoo boy! That was really somethin'"

She looked back at her flank to admire the end of her that did all the handiwork, when she noticed something different.

"Oh. My. Gosh." she started in quite disblief. Had she?

What appeared to be a green cartoon fart cloud was now depicted on her flank. It was...

"OH. MY. GOSH." she repeated a few times, her tone slowly escalating from shock to ecstacy. She finally bellowed out the one her friends would hear. "OH! MY! GOSH!!!!! YOU GUYS! GET IN HERE!"

Finally. After years of being called a rude, uncouth cretin for her passion, it had finally happened. Fate had proved them all wrong.

She had gotten her cutie mark. In farting.

The next weekend was Sally’s cuteciñera.

Now that the party was basically over, Sally knew there was only one way to end it. She got up on stage and tapped the microphone, brining all eyes to her.

"And now, for my closing act..." Sally lowered the mic stand and pressed her rear end right up against it. Everyone knew what was coming next. Nopony reacted in time. "...SMELL THIS!" A coarse, smelly, room-conquering thirty-second flatulence bomb dropped from Samantha's ass, filling the room with near-toxic gas and real, ugly fart noises blaring over the loudspeakers.

The next few years were less than ideal form Sally. She had moved out into Fillydelphia where she lived in a small, run-down apartment. She had barely kept in touch with Brittany and the gang.

"It's just not fair!" Sally cried out. "Everypony else gets to live out their cutie mark's destiny, but I get a load of yakshit for it!? Buck this stupid society!" she screamed as she violently flopped down on her bed. The vibration from the fall caused a hardly-tacked-on paper poster on her wall to come fluttering down and land on her head. She picked it off and looked at it.

It was a poster for a gaming tournament she had attended years ago. It was nice; a place where ponies who loved gaming could congregate and show off their skills.

A tournament...

A thought began to swirl in Sally’s head. What if... there was an event like this where gassy or immaturely-humored ponies could congregate? Where ponies could fart without having to be shamed or looked down upon for it? A time and place where flatulence was... OK? No... celebrated?

Such an event sounded like a wonderful fantasy, and Sally immediately began to fantasize what an even would look like.

First of all, fart shaming would be a no-no. Ponies would be allowed to cut the cheese as loud or as smelly as they wanted or had to.

Second of all, the centerpiece of this convention would be a contest. A tournament. A chance to see who in Equestria could rip the nastiest ones.

Third of all, Cloudsdale Chili Dogs would be a must for a concessions.

The more she fantasized about this hypothetical event, the more overtaken with ecstasy and excitement she became. But that was soon overtaken with a wave of despondence... barely anypony would care to attend an event like that.

Right?

Nevertheless, Sally knew an event like this should exist. Farts were frowned upon in public society for the most part; what would be the harm in one place, for a few days, where they were completely acceptable and celebrated? Where ponies could just freely fart whenever, wherever, free of social consequence?

Sally took a quill and began to write up her plans for this new convention right away.

It would be called: Flatcomp.