Two young jocks took their first glimpses of a Soopy gloopy. Begging to use it. Fumbling with credits.
“Fuck sakes man, it won’t take them!”
“That’s because you real poor bruh! You need a credit stick like me.”
The teenage jock scowled flatly at the insult.
“We all poor in this collective. And then theirs them that are rich. It’s all fake dude!”
“I don’t give a fuck! I just wanna shit in this machine!”
“You’ll be shittin in nothin’ if we don’t use this stick chump!”
They both turned toward each other, smashing their top heavy chests as bulls!
“Let’s do it!” He said, handing his pal the stick.
Inserting it, they waited for the light to flash green!
The display monitor on the right-hand side lit up!
It revealed a drop menu. With many options.
"It’s that button. No wait. That one. I mean—"
“Bro, chill your beans! How much coffee you had, you are nuts hyper! jus’ find the selection menu!”
It was dank. The two boys had just been at work. They felt like shit. So a first punt at a Soopy gloopy would be just the tonic they needed!
“Ahhh, here it is!”
They both looked intently as faces appeared on a list.
“Toggle down bro …!”
“I am I am!”
The smaller of the two gasped, attempting to catch his breath as adrenaline raced. Glistening with streaks of sweat. Dripping off his chin in anticipation.
It was like a boiler room. Fraught with industrial noise that hummed with venom. Someone had defaced the machine. A big dent in it. A crack in the side.
“Ooo look - here we go. You wanna share that one?”
They both nodded agreeably, ogling the image in front of their gaze. It was a guy of roundabouts their age!
“He looks the cutest, right?”
“Yea, man, I’m not into the old vicar!”
“But it says you need more credits for it!”
“I only got 35 on the stick!”
“Fuck it. I’ll use my last 5 credits on it,”
“Yea man! Just press the button!”
"Shit N go! That’s what this service is all about, bro!
He bashed it with his fist! Thunk.
The machine Manuevered its parts. The boys heard clanking as things moved in motion. Sparks flew.
"Any second, any second, any second!"
The taller, ripped one said, bouncing on his heels.
Ping.
The drawer sprang out.
They both looked at each other, eyes wide, mouths open. They peered down into it like a couple of feral wolves. Ready to kill!
“What in the holy fucks of fuck!”
They tensed their faces. In horror.
IT WAS AN AGENT!
His eyes crusty as he awoke from the pits. Fraught with the unknown.
“Well, well, well, if it isn’t the Agent of state morality! How is it going in your drawer? Hot n Humid, Cold n Bleak?”
He spluttered and coughed. Phlegm exiting his mouth. Streaks of mucus at his nostrils.
He spoke. Just.
“Where, where am I?”
“Hang on, where’s the one we purchased?”
The smaller one said with puppy dog eyes of rejection.
“Get me out of here will you … Where am I? … I need to get out.”
The boys saw their excellent advantage and relaxed. It was not their face glued to a shit box!
“I think we should not get him out!”
“Yep, I agree!”
The Agent’s eyes shot outwards! He didn’t know what was happening. He felt his teeth! They were gone. Just gums!
He had no teeth, but he still had a tongue. So he tried his luck.
“YOU TWO ARE UNDER ARREST!”
“Ha ha! Under arrest, and how will you cuff us stuck in a drawer?”
They both smirked.
The hyped boy then tapped the agent's nose lightly with his finger. Grinning. Patronisingly so!
“The only person under arrest right now, Mr agent cunt, is you!”
“I will get out of here soon. It will be the Shit Shacks! For the pair of you!”
“Oh sweet Jesus, is he retarded or something?”
“Yes. I think he is!”
They both howled and high fived!
“We got an agent, we got a whopper, a Soopy gloopy man of honour, living life as a fecal mopper!” sang the muscled jock with joy.
“Bro, was that meant to be a poem? Cus if it was, it sucked balls!”
“It’s shit hot! But how in the hell does an Agent end here? Hey shit hole, why you all up in a state collective, Soopy gloopy?”
"Soopy what?"
“I think he got amnesia, bro. He lost his marbles n that! Or maybe he’s just a dumb cunt!?”
“I think all 3. But if I had to pick, it would be the latter!”
“You are a human toilet. Heroic Agent of the State!”
"Ohhh, fuck!”
His voice cracked. And then he blubbered. Like a big, hungry bear who couldn’t find the pot of honey!
"You done some bad shit to end up in here.”
“I have done nothing. Listen, I didn’t mean to shout at you boys before. I just need you to help me out of here!”
"Awww, an agent being nice. That’s a first, isn’t it?"
"True words, bro. True words. Listen up loser, the state collective has repurposed you into a human toilet machine!”
“I don’t have the faintest idea …”
And then, suddenly, his brain twigged, and it all started flooding back.
"Oh shit. It's happening."
Abject fear cast by the wickedest serpent of the deep brewed inside of him. Like hot shit from the devil!
"They’ve, they’ve, turned me into a Soop–"
“A Soopy gloopy! Yes, you want a gold star to go with it!”
The two boys snickered at one another.
“Finally, we are getting somewhere!”
“Yea, bud, seems his memory is returning!”
“You boys won't do anything, will you?” He said, with a type of half-baked plead.
“Oh no. We will not shit in you. We will call the ministry immediately and get you to safety. A warm blanket around you and a hot mug of cocoa. You’ll be fine!”
He got in the Agent’s fixed face, breathing into him the breath of freedom.
“Are you dumb? Of course we’re going to shit inside you! What else is a Soopy gloopy made for?”
"Yea man, whatever he did, he deserves his place as a shit slurping vendor!”
“Bro, come here a min!”
The taller one said, ushering his friend to the corner of the dank room. It was thick with bad odour. Moisture painted the surfaces. The walls blotted with drab paint that had peeled away in times of neglect.
“Yeah?”
“I don’t think he realises he has no arms or legs or… anything else!”
"Oh shit, yeah! He kinda remembers bits. But not everything!"
The smaller one’s eyes lit up.
"It’s funny as fuck. Let’s fuck with his head!”
They returned to the outstretched drawer. But didn’t look into it!
The taller jock boy tapped on the side of it.
"Hello, hello, are you their agent eunuch? I repeat, are you there agent eunuch?"
“What’s going on?” He said sniffling.
“Oh nothing. We just wondered. Ahh, it doesn’t matter. We wouldn’t want you to be in any more distress than you are.”
The smaller one was gearing up.
“Bro, what are you doing?”
"Taking my shoes off. Then my pants. Then my boxers."
“Oh shit. I forgot. Toilet time.”
"You dumb cunt."
“Boys. Boys. Boys. You don’t need to do this. I can help you."
"Really now. With no arms and no legs, I don’t think you can help anybody."
"Not to mention his testi–“
“Shut up bro. We savin’ his lost memories for later.”
The boy stood strong in all his glory. He did windmills with his dick. Gyrating it about.
“Ha ha. It still a little tadpole then!”
“Shut ya mouth, dick. I need to dump!”
"You need to fuck too, by the looks of it.”
“I would fuck Mr. Agent Latrine here. Ahh. Agent Latrine, that’s got a nice ring to it, actually. Anyway, are you listening?”
“Yes. Yes. But please, boys… can you not do this?”
"Shut the hell up. I would fuck you, but lucky for you, you have a huge pipe deep inside your shithole. It’s like that so you can shit the shit out of it!”
“No. No. No? I can’t. I can’t do this.”
“I bet you used human toilets at the Shit Shacks?”
The boy, still clothed, darted his face into the drawer.
"Are you telling me you never shat in a man’s mouth? Agents are always getting on it. You wouldn’t lie to us, would you?"
Dread filled the man and poured out of him like shit from a sewage works.
"I did. I mean I didn't. They made us.”
“Pish posh, posh pish, have a fish in a fuckin’ dish! You really are a piece of shit. We gonna shit in you real good now. Cunt!”
“Bro, is your asshole ready to splurge?”
“Yep.”
“Then get that moist pucker over here for the nice agent to enjoy ...”
He turned the lever on the side, cranking it to just the right height for his excited buddy.
“You got this, bro. Shit in it. Shit in it real good.”
He had a great ass. A sculpture. A muscled pair of globes that tensed and danced as he walked to the machine.
“If you don’t keep your shit mouth open, we will contact the ministry. You took pleasure in shitting in men. Now we will take pleasure in shitting in you. What goes around comes around!”
Buttocks smacked themselves onto the seat.
The man sunk into panic.
He rest his feet on the floor. Spreading his legs. Inwards. Outwards. Clicking his neck. Rotating his arms. Unknotting everything. For Maximum comfort.
“All well down there, buddy?”
“I— Argh… No… please… you…”
He spoke, but it came out as a dog attempting to bark. Muzzled.
The taller boy banged the side of the metal unit. Crashing thuds of his fists. Again and again.
“You hear what we are sayin’? You don't chew, you don’t swallow, everything that empties out of my guy's asshole, and Agents will arrive so fast you won’t blink!”
“I’m close bro.”
"Let it rip, sailor. Nobody will believe the first time we spent at a gloopy, we stumbled upon an agent in the drawer!”
“I know! It’s frikin’ awesome!”
There was no fresh air for a human toilet in the machine. The only air they got was when they popped out. The only light they got was the exposure of the venue. No daylight.
“Bro, this one has never eaten shit before. He’s new up in here!”
“Sweet as a nut then."
“Shit. I’m gonna fart. Big ones. It gonna stink!”
He laid a creeper. It wafted downwards. And then another. A longer one. Gaseous, sulphuric, bellows of the stuff. Hideous volumes.
The agent spluttered and coughed.
“Ha ha ha! He hasn’t even had his meal yet!”
“Why don’t you cry some more bitch! The tears of your soul can dilute the shit. Make it easier to swallow.”
“Bro it’s close. It’s a big sloppy one. I just know it.”
Then it tore. His sphincter ballooning like an expanding universe.
“Fuck me, it’s massive!”
He felt that pain. The type you get with wide girth shit.
“Shit, bro. Shit, bro. It’s not past the hilt, man.”
"You givin’ birth or somethin’? What in Gods name is inside you?"
His face went crimson as he burst his asshole releasing the fetus of shit from his bowels!
"Ahh... fuck... ahhh!"
"And thar she blows."
And a huge log exited. In a ginormous swoop. Dropping from the asshole of that finely curated ass.
He stepped up quickly. To see the valour his mess had created.
It had gone into its mouth, but the majority had pooled on top of it. It was a colossal SHIT!
Its face swamped! A fine mess. From a fine young man.
“Start chewing, you fuckin’ hole!”
The weary gloopy was immobile. He didn’t move. It was toxic shock! But then, a flicker from his eyes.
“EAT IT!”
"You want the farm. You got it. Bro, call the number!"
“EAT MY SHIT CUNT!”
“Bro, grab that toilet brush. It full of shit already. It got toilet paper stuck to it!”
“Why not!"
The brush entered. Jamming shit into the mouth! Grinding the jagged bristles. He pulled it out. Shit strewn. Back in. Working it as a drill. Tearing into its gums.
The gloopy was convulsing. It was close to passing out. In Shit-Shock!
He Chewed. He Gargled. He Gulped.
But then…
At the window, the taller boy had seen flashing lights in the distance…
AGENT AUTOS!
“Shit! Shit! Shit! Agents are coming!"
“But we haven’t finished …”
"Shut it dickwad. The sirens are on. We need to bolt!”
“I need to grab my gear!”
“Then hurry the fuck up!”
Just before jetting, he crammed the toilet brush deep into its shitty throat!
It stuck there, stationary. Protruding upright.
Was he alive?
“Why the party have to stop now? It’s always the way.”
“Shit man, let’s go! I don’t wanna end up in a vending machine suckin shits for the rest of my days! Them is Agents coming!”
“Ahhh shittt!”
A quick glance at each other, and they scrammed!
They made it away. By the skin of their teeth.
Agents swarmed the vicinity. They saw the heavy mess. Still hot. Still fresh.
"Oh, for fuck's sake. It’s him. The disgrace. They did a number on him. Looks like they vamoosed out just in time."
The Chief Agent, with officialdom painted all over him, wafted the stench away. He pulled a handkerchief to conceal his nostrils.
“Get this one back inside the Soopy. Anyone? Come on you pig, do your work!”
“But, sir, he’s got shit all over his face. He looks dead. Is he breathing?”
"He’s not dead, rookie. Now get the scraper from the wagon. Scrape it all inside his mouth. Get him to eat it. And quickly. I want this gloopy up and running again ASAP!”
“What about the brush, sir?”
"I’ll brush you. Now get to it!”
“It’s a new Soopy, I think, sir?”
"He was once one of us. He marvelled at the collective. But if you go against the grain, you go to the slain. He will never leave that machine. It’s his life. Forever!”
The young agent gulped.
Harshness amplified.
Machine personified.
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