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Darts has a farting controversy, and nobody agrees who smelt it or dealt it

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This stinks.

The world of darts isn’t free of controversy, but something doesn’t smell right about this latest claim of impropriety. A Grand Slam of Darts match between Scotland’s Gary Anderson and Denmark’s Wesley Harms stunk up the stage, with both players claiming the other kept farting during their match to throw off their opponent.

The back and forth claims of broken wind led to Anderson being questioned after the match about who farted.

Harms dropped the first salvo, claiming that Anderson farted multiple times during their match and it was so vile “It’ll take me two nights to lose this smell from my nose,” he said in a radio interview. Anderson, in response said that he smelt the farts and assumed that Harms was the one letting loose.

“It definitely came from table-side and it was eggs, rotten eggs, but not from me. Every time I walked past there was a waft of rotten eggs so that’s why I was thinking it was him. It definitely wasn’t me.”

Anderson has some credence here. He’s farted on stage in the past, but always owned the crime. However, that could just be a cover. Own up to the little farts so you have plausible deniability on the big one. He went on to win the match 10-2 and move on to the quarter finals, while Harms just got to smell a fart.

Personally I hate that the world of darts is being torn asunder by someone’s butt ceasing its slumber. There are a few critical moves that darts need to do in order to protect players’ noses in the future.

  1. Install infrared cameras and advanced fart tracking.
  2. Employ liberal use of air fresheners in case of fart claims.
  3. Develop a hazard response team to deal with farts.

What’s really scary about all this is the possiblity there’s a rogue farter. What if neither Anderson, nor Harms actually farted on Saturday. What if there was a farter from the gassy knoll, someone who can throw their farts like people can throw their voice? You just never know what’s possible.

I commit to you, dear reader, to follow this fart down whatever rabbit hole it goes.