This happened two years ago. I was one of four people stuck renting rooms in a crappy old manufactured home that somehow had a vent in the floor that sounds from the next bedroom came through quite frequently, even though there is a bathroom in between. The vent no longer functioned for air. So it just sat there rusting in the floor. I often just put a folded blanket over it to muffle the noise.

Trouble is the guy renting the bedroom next room next to mine was loud all the time. Either from gaming, or even just talking on his phone. And he had no filter when he spoke. Which irritated me a lot. Now my biggest negative trait is that I have rancid farts. I've got a very mild form of lactose intolerancy. But if I eat dairy, and also have foods with lots of fiber and/or spice with it, or caffeine, no one will want to be in my presence for hours. I'd only been living there a few months at the time, and no one in the house knew I had this problem.

One day I couldn't take the noise coming from the other room anymore. So I ate a bunch of cheddar cheese, spicy ramen, a fiber bar, and an energy drink. It took an hour, but I was ready for blastoff. I sat down bare-butted on the vent with a horseshoe pillow, and just silently gamed emulators on my laptop from there while firing off multiple silent but deadlys.

Before too long the guy in the other room was flipping out from the smell, and couldn't figure out where it was coming from. Then I heard him absolutely lose it, and there was noise of stuff falling to the floor. I realized this could get ugly fast, and left out my window go to use a public bathroom in a nearby park. I got some anti-gas pills from a small store nearby, and didn't come back till I was sure I was no longer farting. When I came back a few hours later, the whole house was in chaos. Apparently the smell spread everywhere through the old vents, and the guy I'd done this to annoy had actually thrown up all over his expensive gaming computer because of the smell. Turns out the vent in his room was right near his desk.

They called the landlord freaking out about a possible septic leak. The landlord sent his helper over, and the guy found nothing leaking under the house. The housemate who threw up on his computer ended up causing damage to it, and had to buy a new keyboard among other things to repair it. He said he wished there was someone he could make pay for the barf damage to his PC, because his insurance wouldn't cover it.

I pretended to not know anything, and claimed I'd been out most of the day, and couldn't have been home when the smell occurred. They kinda believed me. And I never farted in the vent again. I used anti-gas pills religiously, and even kept my room fragrant with a glade plug-in. Then I moved out when my lease ended to rent a studio apartment. They never found out it was me. But they were suspicious since my door was locked, and no one saw me leave.

Then a couple of kids in the neighborhood started making pranks with fart spray into people's windows and cars. And my housemates believed it was them all along. As you can probably guess, it was me who bought the fart spray. And I left it where I knew those kids would easily find it. I covered my tracks well. But my housemates did remark that the fart spray didn't smell as bad as what they smelt the first time. I still laugh when thinking about this, and have moved to anther state recently. So I'm no longer worried about telling this story.