Scoop The Poop

20 Back in the classroom with her friends, Luz gathered all her things and threw them inside her backpack. In a mournful voice, she greeted all her classmates and Mr. Johnson. Her eyes were directed to Ferg and Riley; she wanted to smile; in fact, she wanted to stay in class until the end of the day. She brought her hand a little lower from his head, then withdrew it. She waited for them to return the greeting and left. The teacher resumed his explanation with his usual slowness and annoyance, a sign that the day's topic was heavy and unremarkable. "How did it go?" asked Ferg to Riley. "You, me, Theo and Luz are suspended for a week," she quickly spat out. "Also, we have to write a letter to the principal that we have to read to him when we return." "Wha—" Riley resumed speaking. "Theo and I didn't do anything, even the A-3 kids didn't do anything while you and Katrine... basically, he and I are being punished because we didn't go and call a teacher and they didn't. We objected and so we insulted him. Luz also joined in and asked that our punishment be extended to you and he agreed." Ferg remained impassive for a moment. "Thank you Luz. When does the suspension start?" "I think next week," Riley hesitated. "A week at home never happened to me you know?" Ferg chuckled. "To me to write a letter for the principal." "What would you write?" she asked him smilingly. "I would write to him: Mr. Principal, I can mirror myself on your head." "I'm not very imaginative with insults," he told her amused. "Bald butt is my best." Riley burst out laughing. "That's funny!" Mr. Johnson turned in their direction. The two deskmates pretended to be attentive, Ferg held the pen with his left hand against the paper, and Riley covered his mouth with one hand and held the red pen with the other. He assumed a puzzled expression. He asked that side of the class, "Which one of you was laughing?" No response. At that point, Riley raised her hand. "Me, Mr. Johnson." "We are not in a cafeteria, Ms. Bishop. I suggest you take the class." The man reprimanded her. Ferg joined in. "I was laughing, too." "That goes for you too, Mr. Glenn," the teacher concluded irritably and went back to explaining. * "What?!" exclaimed Riley embarrassedly. "No, no way!" Sally walked over to one of the open doors of the girls' bathroom. "There's enough room for both of us, and no one will listen to us. You have my word." Riley scratched her eyes furiously, she was running like hell and her wet panties were a constant reminder that she did not have a pull-up on. If she had known what had happened today, she would have pretended to be sick and stayed home. At least her panties would be dry and Luz would not have that black bruise on her face. She stood firm on her position, "Sally, no." Her friend moved away from the door with unsure steps. "Y-you're right, it's an intimate moment and you need privacy. Sorry." "It's okay," she comforted her. Riley approached the bathroom, turned to her friend before she pushed her inside, nearly falling head first into the toilet. In turn, Sally went inside and closed the door by turning the mechanism. She turned sharply, plugged her mouth with one hand, and said under her breath, "Katrine and the others are here! We mustn't make any noise!" she was in terror. The desire to lick her hand was strong, but the fear on her friend's face convinced her to shut up and accept the fact that the two of them were inside in the same bathroom. They heard a familiar voice: low and sharp. Sally recognized it without not too much trouble, while it took Riley a few moments to get there. "I've crossed the line," Katrine said, trying to control her labored, shaky breathing. "I'm in deep shit!" Inside the bathroom, Riley sat on the toilet in disbelief. She got goosebumps, another drop of pee fell into her panties. She was surprised how no one had noticed the smell of urine, other than not noticing the dark lines between her legs. Her body was about to give out, wetting her pants at school after going to the principal's office.... if she had risked it the first time, this would be the ultimate sentence. She called Sally's attention, with a nod of heh head, she pointed to her legs. "I have to do it!" Her friend backed away from the door. "How long have you been holding out?" "A long time!" she gritted her teeth. "In fact, a lot!" They were choked screams. Panic dawned on Sally at lightning speed; if Riley had peed with the bullies near sinks, they would not have come out alive. Noticing at that moment the little accidents, she paled. "Pull-ups would have really helped!" she commented under her breath. "Thank my parents' rules!" replied Riley as she got up from the toilet and began to pull down her underpants, then her underwear. Sally stepped back and rotated in on herself. Just now did she have to do that!, she thought in discomfort. She told her, "We're going to get caught!" Riley looked up at the round chandelier, the only source of light in that hole. "Aren't you the one whose panties are soaked in pee and whose bladder is imploding!" "Ssh!" she ordered her, before leaning his ear against the door. "They're talking!" Riley gave her a scowling look; she was hating every moment of it. "I went too far!" said Katrine regretfully. "I didn't mean to push him against the computer and punch that girl... I had lost control." Another voice intervened, cold and emotionless. It was Nella. "You've done the damage by now. Like all of us on the other hand." "This is the time they're going to throw us out," Katrine's voice was about to break. "I know you have never been true friends as I have never been to you. If you want to abandon me now, do well." Two similar voices greeted her, shortly after the sound of their footsteps faded into nothingness. A third voice followed, ringing and pained, speaking for the first and last time, "See you around, Katrine." she left very few seconds later. Sally could make no more mistakes; there were two of them left: Katrine and Nella, the two classmates in classroom A-3. She turned to Riley, who was fighting not to let a drop of pee escape from her body. "There are two left, hang in there a little longer, Riley!" The little girl, at that point, surrendered. A feeling of liberation pervaded her, as well as listening to the melody coming out of the toilet. A music that knew no equal. "We are not alone, Nel!" cried Katrine furiously. Nella huffed annoyed. "My goodness, Kat! Stop being such a bully! The world does not revolve around you! Whoever that girl is, she won't care a fig about our talks!" Katrine took three deep breaths; that reaction was dictated by habit. A behavior she absolutely had to change. "Why did you still stay here, Nella?" "Because I want to understand if you and I are friends and not colleagues." "Haven't you heard from the others?" she threw back at her defeatedly. "I am not your friend. Go away, from now on I have no friends." Nella did not say a word, that was the confirmation she sought and not the one she had hoped to receive. She walked toward the deeper wetness with a confident manner. "You've never had any. Take care of yourself, Katrine Foster," she told her resentfully, then closed the door behind her. The sound of Katrine's footsteps was easy to recognize, dry, sonorous knocks echoing off the walls. This time, however, her footsteps were silent and the walls received no stimulus; the much-feared earthquake would never occur. Sally pulled her pavilion away from the door, incredulous at what her ear had picked up. It was over, the group of bullies had finally disbanded. Riley approached her friend, questioned her nervously, "What's going on out there?" The answer she received was a hug. Something good had happened, she told herself. Something really great that knew no bounds. "Sal?" "Katrine and the others are officially out of the picture!" she moved her lips with tears in her eyes. "Really?" she asked incredulously. Sally looked her straight in the eye, then nodded. A thirty-two-tooth long smile showed on Riley's face, a rush of happiness went through her whole body. She jumped on top of her; it was the second hug in a matter of seconds. A new chapter had just begun. * As soon as they left school, Riley and Ferg walked toward the flagpole. The only thing they knew was that Sally and Theo would be joining them with two of their acquaintances. (Only she understood who they were referring to.) While they waited, Riley had to scold him several times. Nurse Yvette's orders were simple and clear: do not touch the wound. He, on the other hand, did the exact opposite; he kept touching it and groaned whenever his brain received the pain impulse. "Ferg!" she called back to him at the edge of endurance. "Stop it!" The big guy looked at her sideways. "I can't! This is going to sound strange, but ... it feels good." How is that possible? Since when does pain provide relief? In her head, Riley began to think of a way to make it stop. The fact that Sally and Theo were taking time to arrive fueled his thirst for challenge. She was only in possession of information, namely that Ferg was bringing his hands closer to the wound. He reminds me of me as a little girl... When she was three years old, Riley had a bad habit of slipping out of her diaper. Her parents at the time resorted to special gloves to keep her from grabbing the tapes and tearing them off. She wore them until she learned to use the potty. Unfortunately, she did not have them with her. Moreover, the little girl understood the dual function of the gloves: to keep her hands busy and to block their ability to grasp objects. Bingo! That's how I can make it stop! She triumphantly approached Ferg and shook both his hands. The friend looked puzzled, not understanding what was going on. He raised his eyebrow and questioned her, "What are you doing, Riley?" "I'm keeping you from touching your wound," her classmate answered truthfully. Ferg assumed a skeptical look. "Holding my hands?" Riley nodded. "You heard Yvette. Don't touch the wound!" His friend gave a weak smile; he was beginning to feel uncomfortable. Only Luz had held his hand and, on a few occasions, both. She was the only one who had given him a warmth that could be called such. Could Riley's also be classified as his own? He had the feeling that he was betraying his best friend. "Let go of me!" he asked her gently. "I promise I won't touch it again!" Riley was not entirely convinced by that promise. Her pleading tone was insincere. By now she had become an expert on lies and their infinite nuances. She shook her head. "You're kidding right?" he asked her in astonishment. "No. What's to guarantee you won't?" replied Riley slyly. Ferg preferred to avoid arguments that would lead to nothing. Thus, he scraped together all the sincerity he had and repeated his promise. The tone of his voice now reflected his desire to honor her to the end. Immediately thereafter, she let go of her grip. "I know you will honor it. I'm keeping an eye on you!" Her right arm, in an automatic fashion, set off for the wound. Just before he reached his target, the left one blocked him and made him forget his previous priority. Ferg could not avoid his friend's fulminating glance. He apologized. The two heard their names echoing in the air. The voice was clear with a hint of impatience, Sally's distinctive and unmistakable timbre. "Here we go!" she announced nervously. "You won't believe it, but Zoe and Toby's literature professor is crazy!" "Why?" asked Riley and Ferg simultaneously. Toby intervened in an annoyed and cynical tone. "Simply put, he wanted us to go out at exactly 1:30. Mr. McKenzie is fixated on precision. If the rules say you have to jump off a cliff in with your hands in your pockets... you got it." The two of them nodded, even though the cliff metaphor had gotten out of hand. He had remained silent, perhaps, he would have avoided such a conclusion. Now that everyone was present, Riley asked Sally, "Where should we go?" "Let's go behind the school," she replied decisively. "It's not a long thing, just as long as no one hears us." They moved behind the school, the sounds of school bus engines and the indistinct chatter of people were barely audible. This greatly reassured everyone, although most had no idea about that impromptu meeting. "A lot happened today, but that's not why I gathered you here," Sally began enthusiastically, maintaining her half-professionalism. "Katrine and her bully friends are knock-outs! And the great thing is that they did it all by themselves!" Theo, Zoe, Toby, and Ferg winced. In their minds, those words could not be put in the same sentence and take on such a gratifying meaning. It was a surreal sentence, yet it rekindled everyone's spirits in one fell swoop. "Riley and I have heard it all," Sally resumed speaking. "Her friends dumped her and now Katrine is on her own. Most likely Principal Bright will expel her after what happened in Classroom A-3." Zoe and Toby changed their expressions. What do you mean after what happened? It was her friend who explained. "Katrine beat up, if we can call it that, Ferg and Luz, a classmate of ours. We went to the principal, and in addition to being suspended for an absurd reason, Katrine is facing expulsion." "Finally!" commented Toby with satisfaction. "As for her friends?" Riley hesitated. "We don't know for sure, but we can only speculate that they might be suspended. But their reputations are known to the principal and teachers... either way, it won't end well for any of them." Not only them... but me too when I go home! I'm six kinds of trouble up to my neck! "So, everything you have come up with has been for nothing," Zoe pointed out. "Not exactly," replied Theo. "If the plan had never been there, none of this would have happened. Quite a coincidence, don't you think?" They talked for about ten minutes. The first to take their leave were Zoe and Toby, who ran to get before the bus to the bus stop near the supermarket. Next followed Ferg, who went in the same direction as them. The trio walked toward the parking lot, where they saw some of their teachers conversing near their respective cars and one of the school buses that would be leaving any minute. They took the chance and waved to their classmates. A sound of a horn caught their attention; it was Sally's mother and she seemed eager to leave. The annoyed little girl decided to take off before her mother started screaming like a hysterical lunatic. At that exact moment, Theo saw his father's car arrive. He waved goodbye to Riley, Sally too, albeit in the distance, and reached the big black SUV. All that was left for Riley was to walk home, as she did every other day. She was uncertain what to do, afraid to go home. Whatever she did, she would not avoid her parents' scolding for how she had behaved in front of Principal Bright. She took courage — as she always did — and set off  She could already feel their disappointment and anger in the air that seeped into her nostrils.

I noted again this morning that watching the dog pee sometimes triggers me to also pee... interesting. I've been logging these "events", out of curiosity into what habits I may have developed somewhat unconsciously, although whenever one starts paying attention to phenomena that one imagines one would otherwise be unaware of, as in quantum physics, the particles can start acting like they know they are being watched. However, I felt an urge to pee when the dog did so on the lawn, and I felt an urge to pee when I brushed my teeth, even though I had just gone #2 on the potty and had discharged some #1 incidental to that. I also noted a "latchkey" event last night when I got home from a pub, wherein I peed as soon as I got up to my front door.  Speaking of that, a root cause analysis of the events logged herein leads me to this conclusion: one of the chinks in my armor is, staying out later and drinking more than I intended to, and not being interested in removing myself from the revelry in order to walk out to my car and get a diaper and walk back into the bar and change my diaper in the bathroom, and then rejoin my friends. Or, be the guy who always has a bag with him, which I sort of already am, anytime we go anywhere for more than a few hours. But I hate having a bag at a bar - there is no good place to put it, particularly if you're sitting on a stool rather than a chair - at least you can hang stuff off the back of a chair.  The above circumstances have led me to then decide, when my decision-making faculties have been eroded by soaking them in IPA, that I'll stop free-form weeing in my nappy, and just hold it for the last few minutes, as I'm sure I'll be leaving almost immediately.... then, another round is ordered, or the waitress or bartender takes forever to bring the bill, or whatever, and I end up with pee dampening my jeans or my socks, when I stumble out of the Uber or however I got myself home (I never drive under such circumstances).  SO, I can either stop staying later and drinking more than I had planned to, which sounds like a recipe for sadness, OR, I can upsize my diaper, or, change it preemptively, earlier in the evening, when I'm not as inebriated and more likely to pull of a clandestine diaper swap without attracting attention. Because sooner or later, soaking my pants in my own front entranceway is going to turn into soaking my pants while standing with my buddies outside the bar, at a friend's front door. Holding it is dangerous for me these days, because while I can hold it very effectively, when I reach the point where it gets away from me, there is no reigning that in - it's happening and I am just a powerless bystander.  So I need to be more proactive about this, to ward off that eventuality. The problem is, I'm cheap, fundamentally, so I don't want to discard a diaper before it's time, when half the time, I don't overstay my diaper capacity, and I get home fine, and needn't have introduced one more diaper into the day's allotment. The solution for that is better long-term planning, I guess. Sigh. Wearing diapers was so much easier when someone else worried about how many I needed in a day.  Meanwhile, my wife came home at some point this weekend or early this week, with two more bottles of baby powder for me, or, at least partially for me, because I will note the following: I seem to have started a trend in my household. I started buying diaper cream and baby powder on the regular, 5 years ago when I started wearing diapers all the time. Gradually, buying them became something my wife does when she goes shopping - I never asked her to, but, she's been doing it, usually when she sees them on special. And so, she tends to buy a couple at a time, ergo, she's been storing them on a shelf in our linen closet where extra bottles of shampoo and hand soap and deodorant are stockpiled. That shelf is public domain, so, now my kids seem to be using diaper cream and baby powder at least some of the time - I'm not sure for what. There is usually an open container of each on the shelf in their bathroom, although their consumption rate is lower than mine. I'm not that surprised about the baby powder - when I was a kid, my sister used to floof (I just made that word up) it down the front of her shirt with abandon, whereas I studiously avoided using it when I wasn't in a diaper, because to me, it made me smell like diapers, and I was worried that someone around me would draw an inference, even though I actually quite liked the smell back then. But the diaper cream... not sure. But they smear all kinds of fantastical tinctures on their faces, so maybe it's taking a decade off the tops of their feet? Who knows. 

I'll agree that everyone wants to see an underdog succeed in the end and get their happy ending, but if that happens too quick then that just ends the story. E.g. if the protagonist in a horror film kills (or otherwise stops) the villain in the first 10 minutes, they saved themselves a lot of misery which is great irl but absolutely boring for a story.

Looking for friends in east Alabama 

Look for others in The pcb area.