Gaz lies down comfortably in his thin bedroll, smiling to himself because this is the first time he has sat down all day. Now that his basher is set up after about ten failed attempts, he can get some rest. Well, that's what Gaz thought. Sharing a sleeping space on a mission with many men is awful.

"Who the fuck farted?" Gaz groans, immediately covering his nose with his hand and letting out exaggerated gagging noises.

"That is vile. If you need to fart, do it out of the tent. Oh, my gosh. Are you sure you didn't shit yourself?" Gaz rambles, pissed off at the fact someone farted in a cramped basher. It smells like a dead rat shat out gone off eggs.

Gaz's overdramatic reaction recives many giggles from the men in the tent but Gaz is not smiling. His nose is scrunched up in an action of pure disgust.