Clear The Pool!

The lineup: (clockwise from top left) That guy, that other guy, that chick, and that guy.

Fart Factor: A perfect 10 out of 10. Guy 1 shoots it out with the grace of a swan. Guy 2 is enraptured by the thrill of release. The chick barrels forward with the power of her thighs, and the last guy makes it squeak so loud it whistles.

Most Likely Fart Suspect: EVERYONE.

In Space, No One Can Hear You Squeeze

The lineup: Brooding lead male, mandatory Asian scientist, poor man's Rutger Hauer, poor man's Randy Quaid, poor man's Patrick Stewart covered in scat, and half of brooding lead female.

Fart factor: 400 out of 600 credits. Things are tense on the bridge. An overall feeling of distrust and pseudo-military rank heightens the electricity. The male and female leads hold court in silence. Asian woman calculates how much oxygen is left. Capt. Picard wonders who sharted on him. Rutger Hauer hides half of his face, and Randy Quaid is the only one who sees the enormous ghost alien-ripoff coming to OM NOM NOM NOM everyone.

Most likely fart suspect: faux Rutger Hauer. He's a B-movie actor look-alike in a D-movie. But smell that. That's real.

"I think I tore my Spandex."

The Lineup:

Three guys in Manhattan go running around the city. One lets it fly, then sees his gas propel him to victory. The others are forced to breathe his noxious fumes.

I've had this experience many times. And honestly, it's a conundrum. Whenever I run, I wear headphones, so I often let loose at will. There's no telling who hears it. I just keep running, so it doesn't really affect me.

Fart Factor:

5.5 out of 10

Most Likely Fart Suspect:

I think it's pretty obvious.