Story #68: Evening the (Test) Score

Story #68: Evening the (Test) Score Content Tags: (Messy diapers, farting, drooling, mushbrain antagonist, brain drain, surrealism, reality changing, genius turned into special ed drooler) One hundred and forty nine. What a beautiful number that was! Printed there in bold, black ink on the piece of paper. Milo hadn't been this relieved in a while, all because of a number value on a page. It was the number that was going to save him from Summer school, or god forbid, from having to repeat the seventh grade. Milo was bright, but for as intelligent as he might be, he was terribly lazy and uncooperative with the schooling system. He kept getting flunking grades from not doing homework or assignments, or from zoning out during tests and bubbling random answers. He'd become less and less interested over time in going through the motions of learning, when it all seemed so simplistic to him. Now, at the end of the semester, those chickens had come home to roost. His guidance counselor had outright said that his grades would have him repeating the grade, if not outright getting moved to more 'remedial' courses. That'd caused him to finally snap to attention and take things seriously. There was no time to make things up, like homework, and Milo wasn't willing to sacrifice his Summer to even more school. So the counselor had offered him a 'Hail Mary' of sorts. First, he had to take an IQ test and score above a certain threshold. Second, he had to take a comprehensive exam that went over all the content that had been taught over the year, from all his core classes. Two tests he had to ace to make this all go away, and the IQ test had actually been the one he was nervous about, since it seemed like such an abstract way to measure intellect. He'd scored well above the threshold though, and now all he had to do was to take his exam! Beaming, he kept the paper with his IQ score front-and-center and went to the room number that he'd been told to go to. Opening the door, he was surprised to find another student already in the room. There were two desks, and a teacher had come to greet him at the door. "You must be Milo... Rooms for testing are in high demand right now, so you'll be sharing this one with Wyatt. Now, let me just see the results of your *other* test..." She took a peek and looked quite surprised, "Oh, wow! That's really up there! Well, I'm sure you'll have no trouble with your test then." She led him further in and pointed at the remaining desk, "Alright, you'll just take it in here. You won't be able to leave until you're finished with the exam, and I'll have to hold onto your phone until the end." She explained, holding out her hand to take his smartphone, to which he begrudgingly complied. The woman placed a thick booklet of pages on the desk, as well as a large scantron sheet. "You should be all set! I'll be waiting just across the hall, come get me when you finish." Milo looked a little shocked, "You're just going to leave us alone in here? Aren't you afraid we'll cheat?" He quipped, gesturing over at the other boy. Milo hadn't gotten the best look at him yet, but by size, he estimated they were only about a year apart. She covered her mouth and chuckled, "Trust me, I don't think it'll be a problem. Now go ahead and get started, you only get three hours." Milo was left puzzled by her cryptic departure, but took a seat at the desk, looking down at the daunting task in front of him. He was a genius, sure, but a test this large in scope would still be murder on his wrist. He started to read questions on the first page, but he couldn't help but steal glances at the other boy in the room, who was quietly working on his own test. Milo couldn't focus. Every time he started to read, his mind turned back to the fact that he was really being trusted not to simply cheat, which would certainly be the laziest option available. He stood up from his seat and started to walk over, but quickly doubled back to grab his IQ test; he was still really proud of it, and while he wasn't intending to brag, he considered that it might convince this other kid of collaboration. He rolled up next to the other boy, "What's up? You goof off all year too? You look like you're in eighth grade, so I figured you might already know the stuff I'm having to do..." Wyatt didn't turn around, still focusing on his own paper. Instead, he simply stated: "Nuh-uh." Milo was agitated by the curt reply and circled around the desk to give Wyatt a piece of his mind. "Look, I don't want to have to spend the next few hours giving myself carpal tunnel, so I'm just trying to offer you a proposition! I am a genius, it says so on this paper!" He madly rambled, shoving the IQ score at the boy. Then, Milo could finally see the face of the one he'd been counting on to do the heavy pencil lifting. Wyatt's mouth had drool leaking from it, snot hung down his nose, and his eyes lacked a flicker of wit. Milo proceeded to look down and realize Wyatt had a bright crayon, and his test was absolutely preschool level. The genius just froze there, so caught off-guard by the revelation, that he made no attempt to stop Wyatt from snatching the IQ test out of his hand. "Mine now!" Milo stepped back and finally began to laugh at the total absurdity of it. "I can't believe I thought you could help me! I thought you were an eighth grader, not some kind of retard!" Wyatt glared back, at least intelligent enough to recognize he was being insulted. " Dis mine now. Go!" It was Milo's turn to glare, but as he started to size up the boy, he realized that he wouldn't prevail in a competition of the physical. So he scoffed and folded his arms, "Whatever, shit-for-brains. I'll just tell the teacher to make you give it back after I finish." The genius was about to walk away when he made a second revelation; catching an angle of Wyatt from the side. He could see that the boy was wearing a massive adult diaper that barely fit under his ill-fitting pants. "...You still crap yourself like a total tard too? No wonder you want my IQ test so badly! Probably hoping some of those points will rub off on ya, huh?" Milo crudely mocked, laughing more cruelly on his way back to his desk. It was finally time to get started on this awful test! While he worked on it, Wyatt had proceeded on with his own test, and with the IQ sheet right under him, it began to get droplets of his drool on it. Much like an electric wire short-circuited by a splash of water, the fabric of reality too began to short-circuit from the mushbrain marring the pilfered paper. While typically ignorant to much of the world, in a fit of true irony, Wyatt would be the only one to truly recognize these disruptions. "Alright, fractions...fractions..." Milo mumbled. Wait, hadn't he been doing intermediate algebra just a moment ago? He flipped the page back, but all he saw was long-divison. He was being silly! He wasn't doing any algebra yet! That was still math yet to come in his stunted academic career. While Milo pondered a word problem about miners digging for gold, Wyatt had dug some of his own 'green gold' from the ol' booger mines, and carelessly wiped his finger off on Milo's IQ test. Reality faltered again, and instead of asking questions about 'Of Mice and Men', the literary section had been reduced to 'The Boxcar Children'. Milo didn't even have a faint recognition of the change this time. Instead, he paused from his assignment to mock his companion once more. "So what's next on your tard test, huh? How to make poopie on the potty? Because I know you'd fail *that* one, diaper-butt! Too bad that IQ test you stole can't just do your exam for you, a piece of paper probably has more brain cells! Then again, your *diaper* probably has a higher IQ than you." Wyatt had grown sick of the jeering and laughing, especially over this stupid piece of paper that Milo was so proud of. He decided that he'd do the most disrespectful thing he could think of with his limited mental capacity: he took the IQ test and shoved the thing down the back of his diaper, leaving only the top poking up from the waistband. "Did you just...! You seriously didn't!" Milo was disgusted, "Its touching your buttcheeks, dude! I have to turn that in still!" Wyatt's only response was to turn his head back and give the genius a smug little grin. As incensed as Milo might have been, there was little recourse he coul take at the moment; he grumbled and started to look back at his exam, now just wanting to finish it quicker. **Bbbblllaaart! BRAAAAAAAAP!** The wet outburst made Milo look back up, and he could see that Wyatt was lifting his padded rump off his chair, and the moron's face was starting to get red. *He wouldn't*. "NNNGGHHH! HRRRRRMM!" Loud, shameless grunts filled the air and Milo's eyes started to widen. With his hands pressed to his desk, and drool flowing down his chin, Wyatt suddenly pinched off a fat loaf in his diaper, creating a bulge like a softball. The damage to Milo's IQ test was lining up with the damage to his personal reality. Once that load had made contact, Wyatt was no longer the only one wearing protection in the room, and questions about the rain cycle had turned into questions about identifying what animal was a zebra. Wyatt plopped down in exhaustion, a big squish coming from his diaper, courtesy of the large sticky 'softball' flattening and spreading all across his bottom. The mushbrain's tongue hung out in mindless relief for a moment, while Milo's 'protection' got thicker from the squishy plopping. Wyatt began to intentionally muck around in his messy diaper, wanting to totally destroy the IQ test that his test-mate had coveted so dearly. While in that self-indulgent process, Milo's brainpower diminishing with every gyration of Wyatt's muddy buttcheeks, the stinker started to fart again. Milo was already reduced to a state of drooling, his exam looking a lot more similar to Wyatt's paper, but Wyatt wasn't finished yet. The flatulence got wetter and wetter sounding, until one particularly juicy one heralded in a firehose of magmatic mush, absolutely filling his diaper to the brim with hot, soft poop. The IQ test was completely submerged in ruination; only the top, where Milo's name was written, had escaped the utter befoulment and desecration. This final adjustment to his 'score' had lowered Milo to a level even below the idiot he'd had the gall to earlier mock. If Milo insisted on calling Wyatt a retard now, it'd just mean that he himself was at an even more degrading level. Milo now wore a large drool bib, which he was making use of, and he wasn't even afforded the respect of wearing pants over the giant diaper his boxers had eventually morphed into. He still thought he was a genius, but his struggles had become significant, and he turned to a different methodology for filling out his scantron. Time eventually was up, and the teacher returned to the classroom, wrinkling her nose at the powerful poop odor. "W-well boys, time is up! Time to see which special ed room you'll be moving up or down to." She picked up Wyatt's paper first, noticing that he was the source of the smell. "Don't worry, we'll get you out of that dirty diaper! First I just need to get Milo's exam...Do you need a diaper change too, Milo? I have a hunch..." "Nuh-uh! No caca!" She chuckled and picked up his test, "We'll see about that, mister poopypants." Her eyes gazed at the scantron and she noticed a pattern: Milo had bubbled in all the answers so that it spelled out the word 'poop' on the page as a whole. Punctuating that message was a loud strained groan and the cacophony of caca that he'd just denied; rapid plopping emanated from his large diaper and the thick backside began to puff out. The woman sighed, "Well, I think you'll be moving down, Milo. All the way to the bottom... Don't worry, I'm sure you'll be as smart as Wyatt here is, one day! Now how about some fresh diapers?" As she led the pair off, waddling with fumes wafting behind them, one question remained: What would happen to Milo's IQ once Wyatt's diaper was dropped into the stinky drudgery of the diaper pail?