Tommy Puke and the Boy with the Golden Barf by Robert T. Jeschonek

a hug. "This is the happiest day of my life!" There are tears on his face, tears of joy.
    Chonganda looks surprised when Tommy hugs him...then he looks happy. "It's been too long," he says, "since I've had friends over."
    "Any time." Tommy breaks the hug and looks around eagerly. "So what do you want to do now, Chonganda?"
    Chonganda shrugs. "What do you suggest?"
    "We could play something," says Tommy. "There must be a zillion cool things we can play in a place like this ."
    "You would play with a god like me?" Chonganda sounds a little choked up. "After the way I treated you in the sewer?"
    I walk over and squeeze his shoulder. "As a fellow god, I hereby give you the god squad seal of approval."
    "You do?" Chonganda smiles. "That means a lot to me, Mighty Jiggles. It really does." He looks down and kicks the spongy, slimy ground. "Other gods don't treat me this nice. They make fun of me a lot for who I am. For being the god of vomit."
    I don't let go of his shoulder. "I'm sorry to hear that." Who knew I'd have so much in common with a vomit god? "I know what it's like to be picked on."
    "Even my father, Bumba, left me," says Chonganda. "So did my brothers, Nyonye-Ngana and Chedi-Bumba.  My own family   doesn't want anything to do with me."
    "Well, guess what?" Tommy puts his arm around Chonganda's shoulders. "You've got a new family. Mighty Jiggles and I are your new brothers."
    Just then, Tommy lets a massive fart blow out of him--BLORRRARRRT--and we all crack up at once.
    "I think I'm going to like this new family," says Chonganda.
    "Glad to hear it," says Tommy as a follow-up fart squeals out of him.
    "How can I ever thank you?" Chonganda looks from Tommy to me and back to Tommy.
    "Just have fun with us," says Tommy. "That's thanks enough."
    " I know." Chonganda closes his eyes and glows with blue light. Crackling sparks shoot from his fingertips and leap inside our chests.
    "Ow!" My chest stings and tingles from the shock. "What did you do to us?"
    "Gave you a gift," says Chonganda. "It will come in handy if anyone makes fun of you again."
    Tommy rubs the spot on his chest where the sparks entered. "What kind of gift?"
    " A secret filth." Chonganda narrows his eyes. "More powerful than all the seven deadly emanations put together: vomit, poop, farts , phlegm, sweat, pus, and pee. It is the eighth emanation, a bodily flow given over only to the gods."
    I frown, because my chest is still tingling. "But I am a god, remember?"
    "Then this will intensify what you already have," says Chonganda. "Trust me, the eighth emanation of the god of vomit is greater than that of any being in all creation!"
    I'm not sure I like the idea that he's done something to me, but I decide to let it roll. "Thank you, Chonganda." It probably wouldn't be smart to risk offending the god of vomit in the heart of his own realm.
    "Happy to help a friend and colleague, Mighty Jiggles." Chonganda pats me on the back. "Is there anything else I can do for you? Would you like some golden vomit to take back to the world?"
    My eyes meet Tommy's, and I know what he's thinking. Like he said before, a little solid gold could make me pretty popular back home. Maybe, if I was rich enough, I'd never be picked on again. Maybe I could buy all the friends I'd ever need.
    If that's what I want.
    But guess what? I've got all the friends I want right here. And everyone knows that the friends you have to buy aren't really true friends at all.
    So I shake my head and tell Chonganda no thanks. No golden barf for me, even though it was the object of this whole crazy quest.
    Because it turns out the treasure we were tracking, from the first labor of Tommy Puke, back when he saved me from the bullies, to the fourth labor, when I saved him from Chonganda in the sewer, had nothing to do with the golden barf.
    It was this, right here.
    "Okay, guys," says Chonganda. "What do you want to play first ?"
    " Fart wars?" says Tommy. "Poop ball? Hide-and-go-puke?"
    "I'll race you!