Story #132: Lower and Lower

Story #132: Lower and Lower (A sequel to "Evening the Test Score") (Content Tags: Majorly poopy diapers and farting, humiliation, reality shifting, genius made into retard, brain drain) Once upon a time, the IQ test would have labeled Milo a genius. When he'd stepped foot into the testing room, it had been as a genius! He'd left it as a hopelessly vacuous retard though, with a large diaper that sagged with his own steaming hot droppings taped around his waist and a fully soaked drool bib fastened around his neck. The IQ test he'd taken almost felt like a distant memory. When he'd come into the testing room, with it smugly pressed between his fingers, Milo had been so sure that he'd get a great score on his examination; he'd been a lazy kid, but a bright one, but his scantron didn't have the stench of success upon it, especially since he'd chosen all of his answers by bubbling in everything that would spell the word 'poop' down the page. It was a solid representation of what had happened to his reality in the testing room. His IQ test still hung just barely out of Wyatt's enormous, smelly, turd-packed diaper, but everything except for Milo's name on the page was buried in an avalanche of Wyatt's malicious mess. The woven threads of fate had frayed and reality itself had changed, all because of what had happened to that IQ test. Even while the teacher led the two morons out, waddling with nasty sounding squishes for every step, Wyatt was smiling widely and letting loose nasty, diarrheal farts into the diaper, in a bid to further ruin Milo's mind. Ironically, it was the mushbrain who was the only one that had some memory of the past left. Milo might have a memory of how things used to be, submerged deep in his subconscious, but Wyatt remembered exactly what a pompous prick that Milo had been at the beginning of the exam. Wyatt wasn't much brighter than the average preschooler, but he could see the cause and effect in play; he'd taken that 'smarty paper' Milo had been bragging about and he'd totally ruined in, and now Milo was as far from being a smarty as possible. "You two sure have some stinky britches!" The teacher teased, hearing the two nimrods still tooting and defecating on themselves as she led them slowly down the hall. Milo cracked a huge grin, drool coating his lips and streaming down his chin, "Hehe! POO-POO!" He sounded happy and proud of the simmering mountain of mush that he was hauling around behind him. His intellect had degraded to such a point in this moment, that he felt no shame from having crapped his pants, and instead wore the dirty diaper like a badge of honor. "That's right, Milo. You made a very big 'poo-poo'. I'm sure your teacher will want to change your diaper as soon as we get to your classroom. I still need to grade these exams, but I have a feeling that you didn't do so well..." He'd initiated this sequence of events to stop himself from having to repeat the seventh grade; after a year of goofing off and not doing the work, he'd been set to fail completely. It was the combination of the IQ test and the full-grade exam that should have been his salvation, that should have set him to join eighth grade with the rest of his classmates. That wasn't his reality anymore. In this new reality, he'd been taking the exam to instead decide if he should move up or down on the special ed hierarchy of classrooms. He'd been in tier three, which was for severe cases, but now it was looking like he'd be moved to tier four, which was for *very* severe cases. There were five tiers in all: Tier one was for kids with minor learning disabilities or behavioral problems, and it was only their classroom for small parts of the school day. There, the coursework was mostly remedial and meant to strengthen their academic chops. Tier two was for kids with moderate problems, and like tier one, wasn't intended for the whole school day. The remediation was more heavy-handed and covered topics that the students should have mastered in elementary. Tier three was for the more severe cases, and where the term 'retard' became more commonly applicable. Several students were diapered and mentally well-below their age group. There was still some gen-ed co-mingling, but it was only for certain courses. This was the tier that the two mushbrains were considered a part of. Tier four was for the *very* severe cases, where the IQ threshold more often was closer to a preschooler and where diapers were mandatory to the dress code. There was still an attempt to educate, but it was on very infantile topics. And finally, there was tier five, which was for the most significantly poobrained retards of all. There was no attempt to educate, just to essentially babysit. The students who were tier five were so bereft of intelligence, that there wasn't even a mechanism in place to allow them to advance; once someone was in tier five, they were there permanently. The school didn't have enough SPED students to justify completely dividing those classes up, so there were really only two classrooms. The first combined tier one and two, while the second combined the other three tiers. In other words, one room was fairly normal and the other was a noisy poo-factory where the sounds of self-defecation never ceased. The differences in the three final tiers seemed insignificant to someone with normal intelligence; a retard was a retard, right? But to the students in there, the hierarchy mattered a great deal. Threes could look down on fours, and fours could look down on fives. One could tell the tier by the diaper, as the diapers got larger with every tier lower one got. "Okay, I just need to run these through the machine, okay? You boys sit down for a moment and we'll be moving again in no time!" The teacher told them as she stopped into a room in the middle of the hall. Neither dummy complained about being told to sit around in their own excrement; being so bereft of any wit, it was a pleasant experience to squish around and smell the fruits of their own labor. Milo looked to be especially excited to gyrate his squishy butt in place, a drooly smile telling the world how happy he had become. His intelligence, his brain, his very thoughts...They'd been hopelessly tainted by what Wyatt had done to him. His IQ score had told a story of how smart he was, but that story had been changed by the IQ test being denigrated in the most undignified way possible; Wyatt hadn't just crapped all over Milo's achievements, but over his very stream of conciousness. Every wet fart or pinched turd that Wyatt made, only brought Milo down lower. Wyatt appeared to be fully aware of this power he had. He entertained himself by straining out more filth, while watching Milo degrading in real time as he did it. The young teen giggled stupidly, "Me smarterer than you now. You a poo-poo head." Milo looked preoccupied with his own soiled diaper. He didn't even have the honor of wearing any pants to cover the sagging garment up; that also gave him easy access to squeeze and knead his own messy diaper, happily wallowing in his muck like a pig in shit. "Nnngghhh...Poopies...Warm...Squishy.." Other kids who walked by in the hall would stop to gawk at the sight of the two idiots; Wyatt at least had the good sense to be offended, but Milo looked unaware that being called a 'smelly retard' or a 'pants-shitter' was supposed to be an insult. The teacher would eventually come out of the room with the scantrons now graded. She walked out to the sight of Wyatt forcing out more flatulence, while Milo was shamelessly dining at the booger buffet. She shook her head at the silly scene, but knew it should be expected for them to act like that. "Alright boys. The tests are back, so we'll just give these to your teachers, along with the IQ test, and then your placement can be evaluated." She was more talking to herself than anything, or rather narrating the events in play. "Things aren't looking so good for you, Milo. You didn't get a single question right. I'm not really sure how you got put in tier three to begin with." Unsurprising, considering Milo had bubbled in his answers by spelling out 'POOP' on the scantron. A ton of questions were invalidated just by him bubbling more than one answer in! "Wyatt, you did a lot better this time! I think you might be moving up to tier three." She added, gesturing for the pair to stand back up. She continued to escort them down the hall, until they arrived at the SPED room for the lower tiers. Nearly every student inside was diapered in some way, but it wasn't hard to tell which ones were in which tier on the hierarchy; the size of their diaper was a dead giveaway, but most of the threes were still allowed to wear pants too. The classroom was majority threes, followed by a smaller percent of fours, and then only one five. The only five was in a massive diaper and drooling vacantly all over his large bib; he looked to have no intelligence in his eyes at all, just a dullard wit that worked off of the most primitive impulses. Not even the stupidest of the fours looked interested in engaging with him, instead looking annoyed when he crawled around them to sniff at their pantloads. He was also ironically the youngest, being a 'sixth grader' that'd scored the lowest IQ score in the school's history. A protective helmet covered his head, not that there was much left in there to protect, and his toothless mouth hung open to stream drool endlessly onto himself, while his tongue lolled out the side. He could nary go a moment without twisting up his face and farting loudly into his enormous diapers. The head instructor came over to greet the teacher, looking as if he recognized the two mushbrains in tow very well. "Hello! Are they all done with their placement exams? I have a funny feeling I know how they did." She nodded, "You were right about Wyatt. He's definitely ready to move up to tier three, here are his papers..." The man looked at the exam and the IQ score, nodding with a smile at the sight. "Yup, I'm so proud of you, Wyatt! You're getting so smart! Now, for Milo..." The woman looked a little embarrassed as she realized she was missing something. "I have his exam score right here, but I don't know where his IQ test went...I was so sure that he showed me before he took his exam..." A flash of recognition glimmered in Milo's eyes; his intellect may be decimated, but he seemed to have a vague knowledge that this wasn't right. His true memories poked through just enough in this new reality for him to see how wrong everything was, and he knew that he wasn't supposed to be like this. Wyatt had a coy smile as the two adults talked about the missing IQ test. He looked over at Milo, knowing that he'd somehow done this to him by desecrating the paper. Milo knew too, and an expression of panic grew on his face, while he cocked his head to meet Wyatt's gaze. With their eyes locked on to eachother, Wyatt intentionally began to strain and push. The subtext of what he intended to do wasn't subtle; it was a strange form of dominance, a show of force. Both mushbrains were aware of the fact that the IQ test was in the back of Wyatt's diaper, and both were aware that it was somehow changing reality like that. "Nnnn-nnnnoo...!" Milo exclaimed, his eyes shifting down to see the back of Wyatt's dirty adult diaper. The IQ test still hung out from the waistband, but only enough to show Milo's name. The test had already been so thoroughly ruined by being buried in a pile of droppings, but Wyatt knew he could still make things worse. "They've both been making a lot of number twos; I know that couldn't have helped their IQ testing." The woman commented as she heard Wyatt rip a loud fart. "Hmm...No, no points off for Wyatt on that. He must not have done that during the IQ test. Milo doesn't surprise me though." The man chuckled. "Are you sure you didn't leave the test back at the room? Milo doesn't have any pockets, so I know it couldn't be with him." The two adults continued to talk as if neither of the boys were there right next to them. Milo wanted to explain that he knew where the paper was, and that it was supposed to say he was super smart, but nobody would pay attention with how dumb his speech had become. He could do nothing but watch in horror as Wyatt got red in the face, and a muffled crackling sound started to emanate from the back of his diaper. It was a massive python that escaped slowly, inch by inch, and its heft was so much that the trapped paper began to be dragged down with it. Milo could only watch as the IQ test totally disappeared into the packed seat of the retard's Huggies. Then, when he thought the worst was over, and that the steamer had completely dropped, it was immediately followed by the most explosive diarrhea that Milo had ever heard. His already tainted intelligence was thrown even deeper into the pit of idiocy, as even his own name became marred. The bubbling jetstream of magmatic mush had been loud enough to again capture the attention of the adults, and the teacher sighed. "The test can wait...Why don't you go retrace your steps, while I get these two changed. Looks like they're about to have blowouts..." It didn't take very long to figure out where that missing IQ test went, but it was far too destroyed to be useful in any way now. It might have said '149' on it, but that wasn't readily visible anymore. The teacher left it mostly undisturbed inside the extremely full diaper, "Well, at least we know where it went now..." "Muhhh smarties.." Milo whined from a few feet away, looking horrified at the sight. "Sorry, Milo. Looks like you'll need to do a retest. We have enough time left today for it!" He balled up the dirty diaper and started to tape a new one on. "Nnnnnooo! Me genie-yus!" Milo cried out, though the teacher was only half-listening to what the drooly boy had to say. "Uh-huh, that's right Milo. The diaper goes in the diaper genie. Very clever deduction." The man murmured, finishing up with Wyatt and handing him the balled up diaper, "Why don't you show Milo what we do with our dirty diapees, okay?" Wyatt got off of the changing table, carrying the heavy diaper in his hands. He gave Milo a knowing look and toddled over to the diaper pail; Milo could only look on in horror as Wyatt hovered the garment above the mouth of the large pail. "Noo! No throw way diapee!" The teacher gave Milo a pat on the head, "That's what we do with dirty diapers, Milo. We can't keep them, they're too icky, okay?" The diaper dropped in the pail with a heavy plop, and with it would go the only evidence that Milo wasn't a pantspooping retard. Once the pail shut and the IQ test was buried in even more smelly diapers, reality would again change; Milo's diaper grew even thicker and he bent over to unload violently in the back of it. "Now, we'll get you changed and send you back to retake that IQ test. Maybe you can get out of fourth tier if you do well enough." Or more likely get sent to the bottom at fifth tier; the noisy, gurgling splattering in the back of his filthy diaper seemed to support demotion instead of advancement. He'd thought it was so funny to mock the retard, and he'd been so smug about his own dazzling intellect, and now he was at risk of becoming the dumbest kid in the school. His 'intellect' was about to become as valued as the turd-stuffed disposable around his waist.