He could not decide which was the greater problem, his flatulence or his crapulence. Rather than be paralysed by the dilemma, he resolved to minimise both, or rather to do the exact opposite, grunting coarsely from his anal pipe and guzzling Kestrel as he waited for the moment when he was supposed to hand over the rings, which he had probably lost anyway.
He sat down to curl off a big chud, but all that came out was snot. So what happens next time I sneeze? He shivered and resolved to destroy his respiratory system before it could turn against him.