Tale #77: Fool Me Once

Tale #77: Fool Me Once (Content Tags: Messy diapers, wet diapers, trickery, genius pretending to be a mushbrain, playdate with a domineering dummy, seat-sniffing, holiday themed, antagonistic brother) When does a joke go too far? At what point does a joke stop being a joke and instead become a reality? The answer to these questions would be something that a boy genius by the name of Quinton would soon find out. Quinton was smart. In fact, he was *very* smart. However, he was often naive and he didn't understand simple things such as 'humor' very well; a total math and science rockstar, but socially ignorant to a severe degree. He was aware of that too, which was something that embarrassed him and made him feel as if he couldn't relate to other kids his age. He always tried to prove that he was capable of being funny or that he could play jokes on people, but it never panned out the right way; he'd flub the delivery or forget the punchline, or he'd give away the fact that he was trying to play a prank on someone. It felt hopeless! April Fool's day was fast approaching and Quinton had been scouring his brain for an idea to use for it, but nothing seemed good. He'd gone back to the drawing board so many times that he was ready to give up! Then his brother had noticed what he was up to and had offered his services. Davis was three years older than him at thirteen, but the two shared the same grade, since Quinton was so gifted. Davis harbored serious resentment toward the clever brat; Quinton made him look bad, and this had almost always been the case. Davis hadn't been recognized as smarter since Quinton was a toddler, and so Davis had long lived in the shadow of his dorky baby brother. Davis usually concealed the true way he felt, since it would be a losing proposition to try bullying the geek; their parents would obviously take the runt's side, and manhandling wouldn't solve the issue anyway. This sort of opportunity was different though. Quinton was smart, but he was gullible, and he was desperate to fit in; if Davis convinced him of the right joke to play, then his brother would almost assuredly go with it, without asking too many questions. "So, the point of an April Fool's prank, at least a real one, is to fool people into believing something ridiculous for as long as you can. There are items like woopie cushions or snakes in a can, but that stuff is for little kids. So, a good joke for you, would need to be something really hard to believe, while still being in the realm of possibility." The younger boy looked lost at the explanation and fumbled with his glasses, "...Right. So...What do *you* think a good one would be?" Davis shrugged and pretended to have to think about it. "Well...You're really smart at school, so maybe you could work off that? Like, if you convinced people you *aren't* smart for a day?" "By failing a quiz or something? Or answering a question wrong?" Quinton tilted his head. "No...Way too subtle. People might just think you're having an off day. You need to make it really, really clear. The more absurd you can make the trick, and the more you can make people believe it, that's what the best April Fools jokes are made of." Davis was being coy, but his explanation was meant to lead his brother in a certain direction. He couldn't be too blunt with it, or else he might scare the boy off. Quinton tapped at his chin thoughtfully and seemed to mull it over in his head. "So I need to be more theatrical about it, huh? More drastic...Well, I'm sure there are some stereotypes I could look over..." The older boy snapped his fingers, as if he'd just gotten a great idea. "How about Reggie? You could observe him and copy what he does." Reggie was a preteen down the street, that in the nicest of terms, was... 'intellectually challenged'. If anyone was a fountain of stereotypes to sip from, then it'd be him. Heavily, *heavily*, **heavily** incontinent? Check. Drooly and snot-nosed? Check. IQ score to match his shoe size? Definitely a check. He was pretty much a larger sized infant with a little more experience. He was also a veritable pariah, not just for obvious reasons, but also because he was known to have poor emotional regulation too. A hair trigger and a boy that didn't know his own strength or shame for that matter, it was a horrid combination. Quinton looked unconvinced. "Uhh...Don't you think that might be a little too much? That sounds... Embarrassing." "Yeah, it'll be embarrassing, but it'll be more embarrassing for everyone else when you prove that you tricked them! Besides, aren't you into all that science crap? What about the stuff with like, the conservationists? Like the chick who lived with the apes or whatever? Sometimes you have to infiltrate a group to study them, and this could be good practice!" Davis was completely and utterly talking out of his ass right now; he'd only known the direction he'd wanted to push Quinton in, with everything else having to be made up on the fly. It was so haphazard and harebrained that it was ripe to become a comedy of errors. "I guess you're right. Also, it was gorillas, not apes." The younger boy corrected. Davis rolled his eyes, "Whatever. You have until Monday to get everything figured out; if you want my help, then I guess I could give you a hand with it. Just follow my plan and your joke will be *legendary*; everyone will remember it." Davis hadn't been lying about that, though the truth might have been stretched. People would surely remember this, especially if Quinton did exactly as Davis planned for him to do. The caveat would be that they would be remembering something extremely negative about Quinton, instead of something even remotely positive. First step was to dress in the right duds. Davis convinced his brother to empty out his piggy bank and give it to him, so that Davis could go buy him a proper outfit. Davis took the cash and found a local store that specifically sold their wares to a more 'special' clientele than the typical stores would. His favorite part was picking which diaper he'd bring back to his brother. So many choices to choose from for the little genius, with each package looking more humiliating than the next. He settled on something that boasted a very high capacity for messes and that had some adorably infantile printing. They basically just looked like baby diapers that'd seen some serious scaling up. The diapers weren't the only thing that his brother's ensemble needed though; they were surely the most important part, but there still needed to be some other accompanying elements that'd complete the look. A big blue pacifier was one of those elements, and a cute little pair of velcro shoes was another! Some plastic pants, knee-high socks, a sippy cup with Bluey on it... His little brother still needed some actual clothes though. First pick was a onesie, but then Davis considered that only wearing a onesie would probably become a problem at school on Monday. He still picked one up, but he picked up some adorable shortalls to go over it. The overall cost was higher than expected, but Quinton's cash paid for most of it. Quinton wasn't particularly enthralled by the selection whenever Davis returned with the bags in tow. Sensing the reluctance, Davis made an offhanded comment about how good it would be for Quinton to finally fit in with the older kids that he shared a class with. Once this joke had its punchline, everyone would finally see that Quinton *did* understand stuff like comedy and fun. The emotional manipulation was like a key that fit into the lock of Quinton's will; he went on to let his older brother help him try everything on, and while he felt ridiculous and humiliated to wear it, he forced a smile to show his appreciation of what his big brother was doing for him. "You've got the clothes now, but that's only half the game." Davis commented as he finished buttoning the onesie up over the immense diaper. "I think it might be time for a little 'playdate', what do you say? Gorillas in the fog and all that." "Mist." "Missed what? I think I got all the buttons." The prodigy sighed, "Never mind. I guess you're right...I need to learn how to act like a moron." Davis let his brother pull on some shorts to make the trip down the street in; his first instinct was to just have him waddle down the road as he was, but Quinton made a fairly decent point about ruining the surprise before Monday, and Davis didn't have any argument to make against that. Reggie, as was typical for this time of the afternoon, was playing in the perimeter of his front yard. Davis had already talked with the dummy's older brother Kevin, who was only a grade ahead of Quinton and Davis, and he'd explained the gist of the complex 'prank' he was playing on 'baby Einstein'. Kevin was on board, but his price for his part was to have Davis supervise. A little babysitting wasn't much of a cost, especially since Davis had already planned on watching the spectacle for himself. Besides, he would need to be there to help coach Quinton with his 'acting'. "You and Reggie haven't really met before, right? You've seen him playing outside, and maybe he's seen you, but you haven't talked with him before, right?" Davis asked, pulling his brother by the hand down the street. "Talk? What would we talk about? The difference in our IQ scores is higher than he can even count." "That could be as low as five points, so probably not a great metric to use. Point is, that he doesn't know if you're supposed to be smart or not. Just blend in when you play with him, okay?" Quinton looked concerned again, "Play? I thought I was just going to be observing him; maybe asking a few questions afterwards..." "What? No. You need to practice your act, and you need to be convincing. If you can make him think you're a drooling retard like him, then you'll be able to convince anyone. Just like with the gorillas, like Jane Goodall--" "Diane Fossey." Davis gave his brother a firm smack on his puffy rump, "That's not something you should be able to correct me on; they don't watch old nature crap in special ed. The only 'culture' you should be familiar with is the one that'd be in the back of your diaper, got it?" Quinton blushed, but he nodded. Soon after, the two would approach Reggie's house and see that both him and his older brother were in the front yard. Reggie looked as cliche as ever: massive diaper, soggy bib for his constant drool, and a helmet to make sure that he didn't bump his head (since he really couldn't afford the damage). Kevin greeted Davis and gave Quinton a mischievous grin. He got his dimwitted brother by the hand and led them around to the back gate; this was supposed to be a 'surprise', so it made more sense to have the padded playdate in the backyard instead. "Alright, well I'm going to go play a few rounds with my friends, soooo... You got a handle on things, Davis?" The young teen nodded, "Yup! Should be low-key, but I'll come get you if something goes horribly wrong." "Try not to, if you can." With the fourteen year old slinking off to his desk for Fortnite or Call of Duty, it was just the three of them. Davis sat in a lawn chair and gestured for his brother to go 'mingle' with his muse. Acting wasn't a skill that came naturally to the boy genius; he had a hard enough time being himself, let alone being someone else instead. Still, he'd come this far and he wasn't about to give up now. "Uhh...Hi. I'm Quinton." Reggie ignored him and focused instead on some dirt that he was lazily sculpting. Quinton looked back at his brother and gave a meek shrug. Davis sighed at the sight: "Hey Quinton, it's a little warm out today. Why don't you take those shorts off?" Quinton didn't really follow his brother's train of thought, but he obeyed anyways and pulled the shorts down his legs. He then walked in front of Reggie, his onesie now visible, and decided to give it another shot: "Hi, wanna, uhh...Play?" Reggie's eyes came up off the dirt and caught sight of the immense bulk that Quinton was packing in terms of diaper thickness. "Diapee!" He exclaimed with a pointed finger. "Uhhh...Yup! Me wear diapee.." Quinton chuckled nervously. "You sit! Make dirt cake!" The aggression in his tone was unwarranted and unwanted, but Quinton complied and carefully got down on the ground with his playmate. He began to follow what Reggie was doing and fashioned the dirt into a mound on the ground. Quinton stole sideways looks at the dummy to study his expression better; it was one of vacancy, with a drooly mouth hanging open and the rest of his face similarly relaxed. There hardly seemed to be two brain cells huddling together for warmth in that helmet-clad noggin. Then Reggie began to pass gas and Quinton had to do his best to ignore it. He did it in such a carefree way, that Quinton wasn't even sure if he was aware that they were slipping out into his diaper! After cutting about a dozen ripe ones, which got increasingly vile sounding, the flatulence was replaced with a wet crackling sound. There was nothing else that it could be; that was the noise made when a large turd pushed its way into a crinkly diaper. It started slowly, and then the crackling got faster and faster, until a hefty plop signified that a log had been fully deposited. This process would repeat five more times, one right after another, and without the dummy ever showing a sign of recognition. Quinton had enough recognition for the both of them. As thick as Reggie's diaper was, the pound and a half of hot, fuming poop was making its presence known in the air. Odor hadn't really been a consideration that Quinton had made, but now he was wishing that he'd brought a nose plug. The pungent plumes eventually became strong enough for Reggie to notice and he looked pleased to sniff the air. His reaction was like someone who smelled a particularly pleasant candle or the aroma of a fancy perfume. "Poo-poo..." "Uh-huh...Smells like, uh, 'poo-poo'. Icky smell!" Quinton replied, trying to keep his vocabulary small and infantile. "You make poo-poo?" Reggie asked, turning to face the slightly younger boy. His tone sounded ominously hopeful. "Uhh...No? *You* poo-poo. Big, big poo-poo!" Reggie tilted from side to side and gyrated his squishy diaper into the dirt underneath him. He looked captivated by the sensation of it spreading around; happy as a pig in shit. Quinton meanwhile just looked disgusted by the indulgent display and most of all by the sound of the stool smearing. The dummy stopped after a minute and looked back at Quinton. "You poo-poo now." Quinton looked shocked by the request. He'd known he'd be acting like a special ed student and wearing a giant diaper, but he'd never considered the reality of actually using the garment. It sounded a little far for him to go; he still had his pride as an intellectual! "I uh, don't gotta poopie now..." "YOU POO-POO **NOW!**" Quinton shrank back and looked over at Davis for some assistance here; his older brother looked unconcerned with how things were developing. "We had Taco Bell for lunch, I think you probably have to take a dump. Like, scientifically." Quinton narrowed his eyes at his brother, "Davie come *here*!" Davis slid off the chair and walked over. He knelt down and put his ear out, so his baby brother could voice his concerns. "I'm not going to defecate myself. That's too far." Quinton whispered assertively. Davis rolled his eyes and gave him a pat on the shoulder. "Retards crap their pants, Quinton. I think it might be the thing they do the most, honestly. You can't be convincing if you can't even do that." The older boy walked back away and Reggie slammed his fist into the dirt. "Make poopies! Make poopies or me make you!" Quinton noted that Reggie was only docile with the 'normies', while he became quite the tyrant with other mushbrains. Though at this point, with what he was wearing, Quinton didn't think he'd be able to convince Reggie that he himself was a 'normie'. It was best to settle things down before they got physical. Reggie was larger than him and no doubt stronger; Quinton's massive intellectual advantage was pretty useless in this context. Davis had been right about one thing: Quinton’s lunch was coming back to haunt him, and if he so willed it, then he could definitely dump in his drawers right now. “O-okay...Me go poopie in diapee…” Quinton awkwardly relented, though he had to think about how he could get past the mental roadblocks in place; being pottytrained for the better part of the decade, it couldn’t be as easy to do as Reggie had made it look. The genius got on his knees and plowed his palms into the dirt in front of him. He jutted his butt out and started to take some deep breaths to prepare himself for the struggle ahead; once he felt properly situated, he pushed hard on his bowels and found himself involuntarily grunting in the process. Slowly but surely, Quinton could feel a steamer starting to squeeze itself out in the back of his garment. The feeling was completely alien to him, and he couldn’t really say he liked it either, but the further he pushed, the easier it got to get more and more out into his bulky garment. While still in the middle of things, and already feeling extremely self-conscious about it (to the point of closing his eyes completely) he suddenly felt something nudging against his padded butt. Gentle at first, but then more powerfully. He opened his eyes and looked behind him to see that Reggie was shamelessly stuffing his nose right into the bulging backside of his onesie; the drooly boy couldn’t even restrain himself long enough for Quinton to finish pinching this loaf in his pants! “H-hey! S-stop dat!” He cried out, wiggling his padded butt in an attempt to both shake Reggie away and to make the turd fully drop. “Me wanna smell poopie! You smell Reggie’s poopie too.” Quinton grimaced at the sound of that, and then doubled-down on the grimace when the next sound he heard was the sloppy squishing of Reggie’s own diaper filling more. Doing what Reggie was doing right now, really didn’t seem necessary to his research on this role; the boy grunted and shuddered as the big load fully evacuated into his diaper, and then he was immediately looking at his brother again, who was actually looking at his phone instead (or taking a video, more likely). Quinton was about to call out to him, so that they could wrap things up here, but Reggie suddenly stopped sniffing at his fresh lump and instead was trying to make Quinton reciprocate the admiration. He tumbled Quinton over onto his back and then pushed the sagging seat of his dirty diaper right above the boy’s nose. “You smell poopie now!” Another juicy fart rasped wetly in the garment and Reggie made a loud grunting noise; the back of his diaper began to sag even lower, right to the tune of muck being splattered. Davis figured that this experience would have a high chance of making Quinton abort the plan for April Fools, but at least he’d gotten a video for posterity. Who knew? Maybe Quinton was more resilient than he thought (and more gullible). Davis had a feeling he could fool the genius twice, even all things considered.