Anita, Bia Mello, and Melissa Ramoi were exhausted after their concert. The trio of Brazilian singers had been performing nonstop for hours, entertaining the audience with their lively music and energetic dance moves. But as they finally made their way backstage, it was clear that something else was on their minds.
They sat together in a dressing room, their eyes watering from the stench of rotten eggs that emanated from their bodies. "Oh my god," Melissa gasped, holding a hand over her nose, "I think we ate too many beans tonight."
Anita nodded in agreement, rubbing her bloated stomach, "I feel like I'm going to explode."
Bia looked at them both with concern, "Do you think we'll be okay for the afterparty?" she asked nervously, referring to the celebration they had planned with their fans.
"I don't know," Anita replied, wrinkling her nose at the thought of meeting anyone else in their current condition, "We really need to fart."
The statement hung in the air for a moment, the weight of their collective discomfort pressing down on them. Finally, Melissa broke the silence, "Maybe we should just go home and deal with it there."
Anita nodded in agreement, rising unsteadily to her feet, "Yeah, let's just get out of here."
As they made their way through the empty halls of the concert venue, their steps heavy with the knowledge of what lay ahead, they couldn't help but wonder if they would ever be able to record again after this fart-filled night.
Soon enough, they found themselves backstage at their dressing room, stripping out of their sweaty clothes and collapsing onto the couches that lined the walls. It was a relief to finally be alone, but the pressure in their abdomens was growing more intense by the minute.
"I think I might die if I don't fart soon," Bia moaned, her hand resting protectively over her stomach.
Anita nodded in sympathy, her own stomach rumbling loudly, "Me too, me too."
Melissa groaned, rubbing her eyes wearily, "God, this is going to be a long night."
And so it began. For what felt like hours, the three women lay there in the sticky warmth of their own gas, moaning and writhing as their bodies fought to expel the noxious fumes that threatened to overwhelm them. Every now and then, one of them would let out a small pfft sound, causing the others to hold their breath in anticipation of the next release.
Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, the pressure in their stomachs began to ease. Bia was the first to sit up, her relief evident on her face, "Thank god, I thought I was going to explode."
Anita nodded, rolling onto her side and breathing deeply, "Me too."
Melissa sat up slowly, her eyes still half-closed, "Was it really that bad?"
Bia laughed shakily, "It was the worst concert afterparty ever."
Anita joined in, her own laughter bubbling up from deep within her, "But at least we're finally able to fart again."
And with that, the three of them collapsed into a fit of giggles, their relief palpable in the sticky air around them. They knew that they would never forget this night - the night they had to fart together.
