Onstage Outburst

	Neon lights were flashing in every conceivable color combination across the packed room. Clouds generated by the fog machines became technicolor swirls only partially obscuring the thousands of cheering fans waiting anxiously for the next performance. Behind the stage everyone was watching in anticipation, one of the performers was just as anxious. She may not have been the one everyone had paid to see, but as a back-up dancer she still had to put on part of the show. Standing shorter than any of the others backstage, she was a bright white rabbit, clad in a short red dress like the rest of the back-up dancers. Even if she had a smaller stature, her wide “assets” stretched the sequined fabric in a way that drew envy from her coworkers. Her appearances however were far from her own mind, as she held her roiling stomach. Peeking out at the large crowd waiting for them, she desperately attempted to soothe her raging indigestion. “What the hell did I eat?” she internally scolded herself. Unbeknownst to her, the backstage catering neglected to mention how much meat was mixed in the salad. She had been in a rush to swallow anything for her nerves before the show, so she hardly noticed what she inhaled a few minutes ago. Even if she hadn’t noticed the contents of what she ate, her fragile herbivore stomach had no choice other than to toil away at processing the culinary mistake.

	Suppressing a gurgle from underneath her dress, she nearly jumped when the music began to swell. “Ladies and Gentleman…” boomed the announcer, “Welcome the one you’ve all been waiting for… Felandraaaaaa!”. Knowing it was too late to back out now, she held her stomach and braced herself into a more composed stance. “I can do this!” she mentally reassured herself. Getting in line with the other red dressed mammals, she put on a brave face. Lucky for her, the excited crowd hid any growling her stomach was currently emanating. With the curtains drawing back, she moved in unison along the rest of her team around the back of the stage. The eyes would at least be off her as the spotlights swerved to the center of the stage. Once the beams of light were joined together, the strobe lights signaled the main star, Felandra herself. The neon dyed cat leapt from the trapdoor, seemingly appearing magically for the average viewer. Strutting her stuff across the floor she yelled out, “HIT IT LADIES!”

	At first the rabbit kept herself together, moving in sync with the other dancers as the star started her song. A step here, a jump there, her mind was wholly invested in just following the routine at this point. An outside observer really wouldn’t notice anything odd, other than the minor wince she made during the more sudden movements. She had enough experience as a performer to hold herself for the first couple minutes, but with every stretch of her legs, she felt her hold weakening. Sensing the exponentially rising pressure inside of her begin to outpace her valiant hold against her sphincter, she did her best to professionally hide the panic. Currently all the dancers were moving in a circle around the brightly colored feline, but the motion of this rotating ring was stirring up her insides more than anything. Biting her lip she settled on a desperate gambit. “Just a little silent release, that’ll keep me going…” Waiting until she was on the rear of the circle, away from direct sight of the crowd, she put her plan into motion.

	Gingerly she placed a hand onto one of her already sweat coated cheeks restrained by the crimson outfit. With a little force she parted her bountiful booty, doing her absolute best to look as casual as possible while doing it. With another low rumbling from her stomach she relaxed her hold just a little. Almost immediately a stream of flatulence softly hissed its way through the expensive fabric, the warmth flooding the immediate space around her. Still moving as if nothing was different, she couldn’t hide a grin of relief as her own pestilent fog tainted the artificial one drifting across the stage. After five seconds the gas leak was still going strong, the horrendous greasy meaty stench forming a trail behind her. Nine seconds into the steaming release, restrained gags could be heard from the other dancers, trying not to cough as the odorous emission wafted by. While most were choking on the mysterious rancid smell, the beaming bunny moving ahead of them was in pure bliss. Twelve seconds in when a sensitive nosed canine woman began to audibly cough in spite of her best efforts, the gassy rabbit came back to reality. With enough willpower she brought the release of putrid ass smog to a halt, giving a satisfied sigh as the circle broke apart on musical cue.

	Feeling relieved enough from that risky maneuver, she resumed the energetic hip swaying and arm motions she had been hired for. However as she stretched her legs, she felt the pressure return within seconds. “Really? Even after all that?” she thought. “Well it’s going to have to be enough… there’s only a few minutes left in the routine…” Preoccupied with keeping herself presentable despite the gas cramps, she hardly noticed the couple of unfortunate performers stuck in the death cloud she had released moments ago, tearing up in the heated air as they kept their fake smiles plastered on. It would take longer than the performance lasted for any of her eyewatering remnants to disperse, but mercifully the dance number allowed anyone caught inside to leave after a few movements. The occasional eye twitches and nose flares of those passing through were difficult to notice in the crowd, but almost everyone on stage except for Felandra herself was aware something was wrong. Still, the show must go on, and for the next couple of minutes everything went mostly as planned. Only the occasional briefly shocked face of someone entering her lingering blast zone indicating something was off.

	Moving considerably less enthusiastically now, the straining lagomorph held the beast brewing inside of her at bay. Felandra had all the spotlights on her now, so she was putting less effort into dancing and more effort into not exploding before she could get safely behind the stage. Her stomach was a bubbling cauldron of gas at this point and if the music wasn’t blaring everyone could probably recognize the muffled gurgling coming from the little dancer. Watching the main star sing her lungs out, she soldiered on knowing it wouldn’t be long before the song finished. She wasn’t crazy about the notion of ripping ass around her coworkers, but it would be better than doing it in front of the cameras. As the seconds dragged by painfully slowly, she watched with heavy tension as the colorful cat holding the mic neared the end of her song. Forcing a smile against the growing pain, she recalled the final part of their routine, right before she uttered her last lines, all the back-up dancers would fan out to her sides in a long line. It was the last place she wanted to be, but in a couple seconds she would be pressed right up against the renowned pop star. Her position was carefully chosen so the short performer wouldn’t distract from the fabulous feline, but with the bomb ticking away inside her guts, the idea horrified her. The rabbit’s heart rate sped to an even faster pace as she sprinted with the dreaded beat towards the front of the stage. If she could hold on just a moment longer she might escape with her dignity.

	With a bounce of her legs, she was pressed against Felandra’s side, looking straight into the crowd as the singer finished with the last of her notes. Holding still now in her designated pose, she realized just how sweaty she had become, probably from both moving so much, and keeping her asshole firmly clenched. Focusing on not literally blowing it, she winced in surprise when the elegant star broke script and wrapped her arms around the two nearest back-up dancers, one being the anxious cottontail. Felandra probably just thought it would make her look better, during the silence that normally followed perhaps she would appear nicer holding onto her fellow performers and posing for the camera. However despite her practiced demeanor, the superstar’s face turned to confusion when the sound of a rapidly deflating balloon sounded out. The following lull in music was instead replaced by a meaty blast leaning towards the sound of a tuba as time went on. Unsure if the noise was some kind of technical issue, everyone on stage just stayed in their poses and waited for the strange intrusion to end. However, it refused, despite the rabbit’s silent protests. Awkwardly they held position for longer than normal as the raucous eruption revved up in intensity, becoming more than loud enough to be caught on mic.

	Hearing her behind reverberate through the speakers around the puzzled audience, the pale lagomorph’s face became red rather than white. She had never experienced anything even a fraction as embarrassing as this. Even with the feeling of pure relief coursing through her, she tried to remain composed as liters of pungent gas billowed against her skirt. It wasn’t long before half the stage was fighting the urge to wretch from the toxic air circulating around them. Even after nearly ten seconds of the unplanned wind instrument, the rippling release was still going, steaming through her red dress and quickly making the stage into a health hazard. Felandra still held her strained smile, feline pupils widening at the realization someone was stink bombing her stage live. Mercifully for the rabbit expelling more than her body could seemingly hold, the acoustics of the space made nailing down the perpetrator difficult. The muttering of the crowd began to carry across the space until a confused sound engineer cut-off all the microphones. But even without the audio feed, the volcanic eruption coming from between her bunny buns was louder than the audience. The superheated vapor reeking of carrots and rotten pork engulfed the stage as some in the front rows began to wave the air from their faces. It would be another disgust filled ten seconds before her wobbling gelatinous cheeks managed to clamp shut hard enough to restrain the malodorous assault.

	Pulling her long ears down to hide her face, she held position for a couple more seconds before the last note of the song came to an end, only now audible after the outrageous outburst came to a sudden stop. In a rush all the dancers covered their faces and fled backstage, coughing and gagging the whole way. The guilty party seemed no different from the rest as she made a beeline for the backstage restroom, leaking forceful little poots with every step. Left on stage fanning the air and trying to keep a smile on her face was Felandra, sweating in the humid gas cloud as the spotlights cut through the thick miasma and focused the crowd’s attention on her. She was starting to regret her longstanding decision to linger in the spotlight longer than her coworkers.

	It wasn’t long before headlines circulated along the lines of “FAMOUS FELANDRA FARTS FURIOUSLY ON STAGE” or “FAMED CAT GASSES DANCERS.” It would seem the true perpetrator went unnoticed, her unusual reactions dismissed as being ass-level with the supposedly guilty singer, most explaining her pained expressions as her taking the brunt of the insanely loud and lengthy ripper. It looked like this lucky rabbit had escaped for the time being, even if she might be performing for a less infamous in the upcoming weeks.