"That's an appropriate name", said the chomp, pinching his nose like his life depended on it.

Poot grinned. His chomper wasn't too big, and the chomp could see he didn't brush his teeth very often. He was filthy in every possible way - almost, it seemed, on purpose.

"Is there a reason for why you smell so bad?" The chomp asked in a nasal tone.

"Of course there is!" Poot responded proudly.

"This odor is no accident. It has been cultivated through long years of a regular practice of adopting only the worst hygienic habits."

Floof, who was still splashing about in the pond, meowed in dismay. Clearly, the smell was too much even for the poor patoot.

"Why in the Great Pug's name would you do that?"

Poot had a ready answer, almost as if he'd been expecting the question.

"Well you see, chomps are usually judged on the basis of the size and quality of their chompers - it is their greatest weapon. I however, was not blessed with a very big chomper. So I thought of ways to distinguish myself from others, to create a new unique skill-set that I could use out in the big wide world. I realized soon enough that though my chomps weren't that big, I was a fast chomper, and my metabolism was unusually fast too. This meant I could generate huge quantities of gas in a very short period of time. Also, I had never really enjoyed washing or brushing my teeth."

"Disgusting."

Poot chuckled.

"Call it what you will. With all the fresh cakes running off times have been rough, and a lot of chomps on the hunt compete with each other on the same hunting grounds. It pays to have an ace in the hole."

The protagonist had an idea...