Crack! Debris showered down on little Andrew's

Crack! Debris showered down on little Andrew's head. Crack! He cowered. "Help!" he cried but noone heard him. He was stuck. Stuck under his burning home. No escape. No help.

The fire ripping though the home closing every possible escape the boy had.

He remembered the secret exit that his grandfather built years ago. He grabbed a cloth and covered his mouth to get away from the treacherous fiery smoke.

Halfway through the secret exit, he realised he would fit. The seven donuts he had eaten earlier that day had taken it's toll. He yelled in fury, the flames approaching fast.

Eating made him thinner. It was a burden he bore since birth. But this backfired when testing his fire tolerance in the burning house. His donut buffet caused an accidental escape

in his pants. Luckily he was standing by some portly people from Wisconsin and when the smell hit the "free breakfast bar" at the Day's Inn, he looked around like, "Who was that?"

Everyone immediately blushed and looked at their feet. Accounts of the olfactory devastation at the Day's Inn placed him as the hero. But he was only trying to save himself from

the stench. It clung to him like an wet t-shirt. There was no doubt the health inspector would have to shut down the Day's Inn in the coming days, but until then