Calx wrote:
based on real life events
Party A expects visitors to her domicile and is in a hurry to clean and prepare it to receive company. The brisk pace of her chores shuffles her intestines, but unexpected circumstances prevent party A from using her toilet.
Party A fiercely shits into a plastic grocery bag, disposing of the bag by hurling it over a nearby fence where it lands in radiation. Her night continues without a hitch, and a plumber is called to repair her toilet in the morning.
Time passes by as the feces, already a peach cobbler-like consistency, is scrambled further by the summer heat, as well as a steady stream of radiation leaking from below ground where a number of mexican microwaves had been illegally disposed of within city limits, concealed only by a thin layer of dirt.
The plastic bag constricts its contents, forming a womb wherein gasses are trapped and continue to build, bloating the bag like a pufferfish. The bag's contents begin to swirl and conglomerate, forming digits, organs, eyes, trying desperately to emulate the being it came from.
Thoroughly sunbaked for a period of days, the plastic bag bursts, and amidst the puddle of sewage expelled from the blast, a living creature crawls up from the fluid, flicking excess moisture from its hands, shielding its eyes from the noonday sun and adjusting its nuggets of corn to resemble breasts.
"I am become as she." the lifeform declared before using its powers of levitation to join with the sky.
Party A rushes outside as the sun becomes occluded by a septic hue, thinking it nothing more than a dust storm. She becomes horror-stricken when she recognizes her distinctive pescetarian diet in the composition of the creature now blocking out the sun with its bloppy girth.
Half the neighborhood has begun throwing dead cats at the creature, a time-honored hispanic ritual for warding off such monstrosities. It is very effective.
The creature, which had grown into a tremendous brown membrane that cast the city below into an off-scented shade, had begun to crack, shrivel, break and recede, until it was little more than a broken gingerbread man splattered on the sidewalk. A sea of angered minorities, some on bikes with jingly bells or cards in the spokes, had arrived at where the shrunken being had fallen, just in front of Party A's home.
Out of pity, she scooped her creation up in her arms and cradling it, naming it "Baby Faith," before carrying it to her front door.
"NO!" shouted Paco. "THERE IS ONE MORE CAT LEFT TO THROW, HOLMES!"
"It's over," replied Party A, "now is the time to do what's right."
Like a small funeral procession, Party A walked to her upstairs bathroom while her child coughed and moaned. Now standing before the toilet bowl, the two locked eyes, and Baby Faith was lowered into the chilly toilet water. Party A wiped brown on her apron before reaching to flush.
"Please, don't kill me," Baby Faith pleaded. "All I wanted was to live, to feel!"
"Fuck you," Party A flushed. "You are such a gay turd."
She exited the bathroom and adjusted her cowboy hat. With little time for remorse, Party A grabbed her keys off the wall and left to buy more tampons, hitting several cats in her PT Cruiser on the way to Safeway.
Worthy of a second read.
