Poop Mage: Manure Mysteries

Bob and Cooper walked through the academy’s shiny hallways, laughing about the weird runes they'd seen earlier, when suddenly, a voice sliced through their chatter like a knife: “HALT!”

A tall figure blocked their way. Frank. Covered in acne, eyes narrowed, and way too serious. He was the head of the student disciplinary team. Beside him stood his two sidekicks: Giles, tall and gangly with limbs that bent awkwardly, and Margo, small but fierce, wearing a smirk that seemed permanent.

"Ugh, Frank," Cooper groaned, rolling his eyes. "The Discipline Trio strikes again."

Bob tried to hide, but it was too late. Frank’s gaze locked onto them like a heat-seeking missile. “You!” he boomed, jabbing a finger toward them. “Walking these hallowed halls... with disregard for the academy’s pristine reputation!” His acne-covered face scrunched up with each word.

Giles nodded. “Yes, yes, Frank. Pristine!” Margo gave a fake salute, still smirking.

“Great, now we get a lecture,” Cooper whispered to Bob, holding back a laugh. “Bet he'll use at least five words we don’t know.”

Frank’s voice droned on like an angry teacher. “Cleanliness is next to magic,” he announced like it was some sacred truth. “Every student must uphold the highest standards—decorum, etiquette, cleanliness.”

“More like ‘pimple-ness,’” Cooper muttered, smirking.

Margo couldn’t help it—she snorted. Giles’ shoulders shook as he tried to keep a straight face, but it was like trying to hold in a sneeze.

Frank’s eyes darted to Margo and Giles, then back to Bob and Cooper. His face went bright red, partly from rage and partly from his acne, like little volcanoes ready to explode. Cooper, never one to miss a chance, added, “Y’know, Frank, it’s kinda impressive how you handle rules and... skincare at the same time.”

Bob, sensing the danger and desperately trying to keep the situation from escalating, jumped in. “Uh, well, Frank, um... we all have our... spots of trouble, right?” He gave a weak chuckle, realizing too late that he'd just made things ten times worse.

The silence hung heavy for a moment. Frank’s face grew darker and redder, and, suddenly, one of the larger pimples on his cheek gave way—a small, disgusting pop echoed through the corridor.

Giles and Margo tried to stay serious, but their faces contorted as they struggled to hold back laughter, their mouths twitching like they were fighting wild animals.

Frank stood there, fists clenched, his face bright red from both anger and embarrassment. For once, he was speechless. “You... you’ll regret this!” he finally spat out, voice shaking. “I’ll be watching you like hawks! Hawks!” He turned and stormed off, Giles and Margo trailing behind. Giles glanced back, miming "hawks" with crossed eyes and flapping arms.

Cooper snickered as they vanished down the hall. “Well, that was... fun,” he said, clapping Bob on the back. “Nice job, ‘pimple buster.’”

Bob sighed. “Great. Just what I needed—another enemy.”

Cooper led Bob down a side hallway to the academy’s inventory office. It was a dim room filled with the smell of dust and old books. Shelves crammed with robes, scrolls, and random magical supplies lined the walls. At the far end sat Gladys, the stock manager—a hunched woman with frizzy silver hair, peering through thick glasses that made her eyes look huge.

Gladys looked up slowly as they approached, like she was sizing up two thieves. “Hmm...” She leaned forward, nose twitching. “You must be the one with the... smell,” she said bluntly, her voice creaky. “People have been talking about you.”

Bob scratched his head, forcing a smile. “Yup, that’s me. The... scented one,” he mumbled, feeling his face grow hot.

Gladys squinted at him, lips pursed like she'd just sucked on a lemon. “Well, aren’t you a... unique fragrance,” she said dryly. For a moment, Bob thought she might pinch her nose shut.

Cooper jumped in quickly, flashing a grin. “Ah, Gladys, don’t be fooled! Sure, he might be... aromatic, but he’s got a heart of gold. And, y’know, maybe a nose of steel.”

Gladys raised an eyebrow, a smirk forming. “Oh, does he now? And you two think you’re comedians, huh?” Her voice was half-serious, half-amused, making Cooper feel like they were finally winning her over.

Bob, trying to keep it light, added, “I like to think of my smell as... distinct. Memorable. Like a magical perfume... gone wrong.” He gave a nervous laugh, shrugging.

Gladys let out a raspy chuckle. “I can tell you two will make things... interesting around here.” She shook her head, grinning. “Let’s see what I’ve got for you.”

She rummaged under the desk, pulling out a dark blue robe with the academy emblem, a metal badge shaped like a flame, and a room key on a leather strap. She laid them out, eyeing Bob like she was wondering if he'd explode or stink up the place.

“Here you go,” she said, handing the bundle over. “Wear the robe, polish the badge, and... try to manage that scent, okay?”

Bob nodded, clutching the items like treasure. “Sure! Thanks, Gladys! I’ll... try to be less memorable.” He gave a thumbs-up.

Cooper grinned and saluted. “We’ll be model students. Angels. No pranks... at least, not today.”

Gladys let out a raspy laugh, her face wrinkling with amusement. “You boys better stay out of trouble,” she said with a wink. “And don’t come running to me if you end up on someone’s bad side. Now off you go—before I forget what fresh air smells like.”

Bob and Cooper grinned, thanked Gladys, and headed out of the inventory office. It felt like they’d just escaped a test unscathed. Bob glanced down at his new robe, running a hand over the stitched emblem. He felt a flicker of pride. Sure, he was “the smelly one,” but he was also a real student now.

“Well, that went better than I thought,” Cooper chuckled as they walked away. “See? You made a friend.”

Bob smiled, genuinely this time. “Yeah, I guess I did.” But as they turned the corner, he hoped making friends would be the easiest part of becoming a mage.

Bob finally parted ways with Cooper and stood in front of his new room. His hands were sweaty and shaky as he fumbled with the key. Everything at the academy felt so... big. The hallways were grand, the air smelled too clean (until he got there), and every student seemed so confident. Bob felt like he was juggling flaming potatoes, pretending to be a chef.

He dropped the key once, then twice, before finally getting it into the lock. But just as he was about to turn it, another door behind him creaked open. He turned and nearly dropped the key again.

A girl stood in the doorway across from his. She had long, wavy auburn hair flowing like warm sunlight. Her robe, covered in fancy runes, hinted at some serious magic skills. But she carried herself with ease, like one of those birds that glides without trying.

Bob’s throat suddenly went dry. She glanced over, catching him staring, and her lips curved into a polite but curious smile. “Hey there,” she said, voice smooth as butter. “You must be new around here. I’m Felina, light mage. I specialize in healing and protection spells. And you are...?”

Bob’s brain panicked. Don’t say anything weird! But before he could speak, a ding! sounded in his ear. P.U.M.A.'s interface appeared, right between him and Felina, flashing messages like "New Quest! Flirt with Confidence!" and "Try This Pickup Line: ‘Are you a spell? Because you light up my life!’"

Bob swatted at the messages, but they popped up faster and faster. He forced a smile, trying to play it cool. “I’m Bob, and I—uh—uh—” he stammered.

Stepping forward to shake her hand, he tripped and crashed into his own door. It swung open and smacked him right on the back of the head. Bob wobbled, books flying out of his arms like popcorn, one bouncing off his head before hitting the floor.

There was a pause. Bob rubbed his head, forcing a laugh that came out like a squeaky cough. “S-sorry,” he muttered. “My door... it’s more of a fire mage than I am!”

Felina let out a soft, musical chuckle. She wasn't laughing at him—more like she was genuinely amused. “Well, Bob the door-tamer,” she grinned, “good luck with your studies.” She gave a small wave and walked down the hall, her robe fluttering like a breeze.

Bob stood there, stunned, replaying the moment in his head—her smile, that laugh, and the fact he hadn't totally blown it. He bent to pick up his books, a little smile on his face. “Bob the door-tamer,” he whispered to himself, feeling a bit of hope for the first time in a while. Maybe, just maybe, things were looking up.