The Fart of the Deal

Warning: May Cause Critical Thinking and Flatulence

In Pinepaw Square one market day,

A booming bird flew in to say:

“I’m Eagleton Goldcrest—bold and wise.

I sell the deals that monetize!”

He wore a vest with golden thread,

A puffed-up tuft atop his head.

“My beans are rare! My price is steep!

But trust me, friends—it’s worth the leap.”

He bought up every bean in town,

Then raised the price and waved a crown.

“These aren’t just beans,” he cawed with glee.

“They’re opportunity—trust me!”

He scribbled scrolls with pomp and flair:

“Elite Bean Bonds! Invest with care!”

He charged folks twice, then charged again,

And called the profit “patriot gain.”

But beans, when stacked by greedy claws,

Begin to bloat with nature’s laws.

A pressure rose inside his gut…

He tried to grin—then came the phut.

A whiff of hubris filled the air, A sulfur stench of market flair. Crabbie gagged, and Milo fled, While goats just groaned and shook their head.

Lantern’s glow turned faint and green.

Owliver muttered, “Here we’ve seen—

A classic case of gas and grift,

Where truth gets lost in fog and drift.”

Still Eagleton stood tall and proud:

“A little breeze! No need to crowd!

Let’s double down, let’s spin this tale—

These scented beans are premium scale!”

But no one bought, and none remained—

The square was empty, profits strained.

The beans burst loose, the signs fell flat,

The mighty bird looked less than that.

The creatures shared what once was hoarded,

Free from lies that once distorted.

They cooked and laughed, and passed around

The humble beans grown from the ground.

Eagleton sighed, his wings now low.

The show was done, the funds ran slow.

He swept the stall he’d stained with pride,

Then sat alone, his hype denied.

Owliver called from the checkout stand,

“Real worth’s not built on sleight of hand.

A deal that farts before it flies

Was never truth—just blustery lies.”

He chalked fair prices, sack by sack.

He learned to give, not just take back.

The gold was gone, the fans had fled,

But beans still boiled and bellies fed.

Now once a year, they reenact

That windy deal, that bean-fed act.

Kids laugh and learn: don’t chase the feel—

Check the facts, not just the deal.

Moral

If you sell just air, expect it to blow up.

✍️ Why I Wrote This

I wrote The Fart of the Deal to help kids laugh at loudness—and think about truth.

It’s a gentle parody of The Art of the Deal, a book that taught the world to value confidence over clarity, bluster over balance, and branding over honesty. In this fable, I gave that mindset wings (and gas) in the form of Eagleton Goldcrest—a big talker with a belly full of beans and no plan beyond puffing himself up.

But while the fart jokes may fly for fun, underneath the feathers is a simple lesson:The best deals don’t come from pressure, hype, or noise—they come from fairness, truth, and shared good.

Kids will laugh at the bean chaos. Adults might grin (or wince) at the familiar sales pitch. And maybe—just maybe—a few readers will walk away with better nonsense detectors.

Because in a world full of slogans and spin, sometimes it takes a fart to clear the air.

Back Cover Blurb

Beware the Bird with the Golden Pitch. When Eagleton Goldcrest flaps into Pinepaw Market selling beans, bonds, and bluster, the forest critters aren’t sure whether to cheer… or clear the air. A hilarious fable packed with flatulence, finesse, and a few too many scrolls, The Fart of the Deal pokes fun at puffed-up promises, inflated egos, and the power of good old-fashioned honesty. Kids will laugh. Grown-ups will smirk. And somewhere, a school board will try to ban it. Perfect for fans of Walter the Farting Dog, The Lorax, and late-night political cartoons disguised as bedtime stories.

Dear Pinepaw School District Curriculum Committee,

I am deeply concerned that The Fart of the Deal encourages children to question authority, challenge inflated promises, and—most disturbingly—laugh at a fart.

This book teaches honesty, satire, and resistance to gaslighting. It uses gas to illustrate gaslighting. How dare it!

I demand it be removed from shelves before kids become… informed.

Sincerely,

A Very Offended Fictional Parent(

who may or may not be a talking goose)