Reindeer Flames

REINDEER FLAMES

By G Quick

 

If I asked you to name each of Santa’s reindeer

You’d likely name nine, at the most,

But it might be surprising for some folk to hear

That the North Pole is home to a host

Of reindeer reserves, old guard and new,

Some surly, some bold and gregarious,

Others born different, their genes set askew,

With results that are often hilarious.

One particular case, the star buck of this tale,

You’d have to try hard not to notice

When you have the unfortunate luck to inhale

A whiff of this reindeer named Otis.

Otis the Odorous Reindeer, the impossibly strong-smelling stag.

The most minute toot, from his reindeer caboose, would make people tear up and gag.

 

Poor Otis was ostracised by his peers,

They were a constant cause of his woes,

But the worst one of all, self-titled “Head of the Deers” [sic]

Was that jerk with the red glowing nose.

Rudolph bullied Otis at each little chance,

He’d hurt him and make him look weak.

If he caught Otis looking, just a hint of a glance,

He’d shout out “Pee-Eeew! Otis, you REEK!”

So Otis was alone a lot, thanks to his powers,

He’d hide in a dark disused shed.

In order to get through those slow, lonely hours

He’d fart tunes which he wrote in his head.

Otis the Odorous Reindeer, the poor, friendless, foul-smelling buck.

Cursed with the most pollutant of rears, dejected and down on his luck.

 

According to Rudolph, that arrogant lout,

His nose could do more than just glow.

It was also a highly sensitive snout,

So he made sure that Otis would know,

That he could never join the sleigh pulling squad,

‘Cause his stench would disrupt navigation.

Rudolph mocked him, called him a miserable sod

And bemoaned the deer’s fragrant mutation.
Thus Otis was relegated. Last on the list.

The antithesis of the elite.

He’d never be called upon to assist,

And never fly front of the fleet.

Otis the Odorous Reindeer, disowned by all, even his mum.

No deer was willing or foolish enough to stand twenty feet from his bum.​​​

 

One lonesome night, Otis, as he often did,

Was practicing butt bossa nova,

When a curious elf, neither bolted, nor hid,

But, instead, wandered casually over.

He sat beside Otis, listened and smiled,

And Otis kept musically farting,

Despite each note being the opposite of mild

The elf showed no signs of departing.

So they sat together, an unusual pair,

A factory elf and a deer.

Otis was baffled why the elf was still there,

As he parped out a tune with his rear.

Otis the Odorous Reindeer, good natured, sweet and kind-hearted.

A volatile vessel of villainous vapour. When he cut the cheese everyone darted.

 

Otis’ buttocks fell silent, he turned

And insisted the strange elf explain

How he handled having his nostrils burned

Without buckling over in pain?

“It doesn’t bother me that you turn the air sour.

If I believed, I would say it was cosmic,

That our meeting was directed by some higher power.

You see… I’m the only elf here who’s anosmic.

I’d be very grateful if you would allow

Me to run a few tests and take samples.

I’m curious to study the gas you’re endowed

And compare it to other examples.”

Otis the Odorous Reindeer, a miasmic, miraculous creation.

A gaseous spray, passed through his arse, is a mace that could stop a whole nation.

 

So Otis complied with the odd elf’s request.

The elf studied Otis with vigour,

And assembled a harness and rocket-like vest

With a hoof-mounted ignition trigger.

He said “I’ve a fondness for all things flying,

And I’m beginning to suspect that you might

Have a backside with a strong, underlying

Talent for jet propelled flight.

So, please, if you’ll entertain the notion,

And don’t think of me as a dunce,

Take off and, with a gluteal explosion,

Break both wind and sound barrier at once.”

Otis the Odorous Reindeer, with his unique colonic cologne.

When ignited, his bum burned so fiercely that it could melt copper, steel and stone.

 

Otis took to the air. He pulled the trigger,

And let just a tiny one rip,

The force was of something much, much bigger.

And nearly dislocated his hip!

Magnificent flames burst from his booty,

Of searingly bright blue and green.

A truly bizarre vision of beauty,

The most tremendous fart you’ve ever seen!

Otis was FAST. A hypersonic steed,

Thrust forth by his butt’s awesome power.

Coursing through the air, at incredible speed,

Around the planet in under an hour.

Otis the Odorous Reindeer,  a noxious cocktail of flammable gas.

Flaming phenomenal pheromones, ejected with force from his big, furry ass.

 

When Otis landed the elf had left,

What remained was a helmet and note,

As Otis read through it he felt quite bereft,

Choked back tears, a lump in his throat.

“My deer friend, thank you and goodbye,

You’ve filled me with great inspiration,

To follow my dream of learning to fly

And pursuing a life of aviation.

But I have no doubts that we’ll meet once more

And fly side by side through the air,

An avian elf and a reindeer of lore,

Both fuelled by a deer’s derriere.”

Otis the Odorous Reindeer, purveyor of paint-stripping pong.

‘Twould be the ultimate understatement to say that his odour was strong.

 

All of a sudden a calamitous ruckus arose,

Somewhere over at the main stable.

Otis snuck in, not one to impose,

As Santa stood up on a table.

“Listen! Rudolph, that cavalier bragger,

Was trying to impress all the does,

And, SOMEHOW, with his foolhardy swagger,

Got a candy cane stuck up his nose!

So now we’re in one hell of a bind,

And just to add pain to the plight,

We’ve got no time to be running behind,

Because Christmas Eve is tonight!”

Otis the Odorous Reindeer, a stench so severely distinguished.

If only such pooey potpourri could be so acutely extinguished.

 

The crowd of deer murmured, but no one stepped out,

Nobody was keen to replace

Rudolph, with his world renowned snout.

The stag with the luminous face.

That is until Otis pushed through to the front,

Adorned with straps, buckles, and chrome.

He stomped a hoof and let out a grunt,

Custom built helmet perched on his dome.

He leapt into the sky, flames shot from his buns,

The most spectacular sight you ever saw.

Performing barrel rolls and obstacle runs,

He left every reindeer in awe.

Otis the Odorous Reindeer, I’m not sure you fathom the stink.

No matter how awful you might have thought, trust me, it’s worse than you think.

 

Santa said “Right. That’s sorted. Okay,

Tonight Otis is leading the crew.

Now, we just need to develop a way,

To protect us from his putrid brew.

No offense, Otis, but if I’m to be sitting

To the rear of that buttocks, I’d rather

Replace this delicate red and white knitting

With a suit better suited to lava.”

So suit up he did, and noses were plugged,

Otis placed at the front of the line,

To the air, the deer took, with the sleigh they all tugged,

With Kevlar sheaths on each tine.

Otis the Odorous Reindeer, a uniquely resilient and repugnant smell.

An acrid, aromatic aerosol, which no amount of incense could quell.

 

Boosted by Otis’ flaming bouquet,

They checked off each stop at a record rate.

Immeasurably swift, he dragged the old sleigh,

Country to country, state to state.

The longest fart in history,

A trail of light, it left in its wake,

The specific ingredients? A mystery.

A smelly aurora. Through the sky, it did snake.

Some managed to spot him, when he slowed to a glide,

A small few, lucky enough to capture the sight,

Of Otis, the rocketing reindeer, beaming with pride.

Our festively flatulent master of flight.

Otis the Odorous Reindeer, a full-bodied, butt-belching freak.

His effervescent plume of effluvial perfume could knock a man out with a squeak.

 

Otis the Odorous Reindeer, the fastest deer you’ll ever meet.

Tearing up the sky with Santa Clause. Head of the Heard.

 

Front of the fleet.