Story #49: The Missing Integer (Picture)

Story #49: The Missing Integer (A reimagining of 'Intellectually Miscast') (Content Tags: Messy diapers, humiliation, Genius protagonist, Special Ed, Bureaucratic Horror, Surrealism and hyperbole, Perceived to be totally mushbrained, diaper sniffing, academic rival, bullying, hierarchy shift) Rhys was bright, that much couldn't be denied. He was so bright in fact, that he'd gone out of his way to have an IQ test performed, so that he could skip some grades and finish school all the faster. It'd felt like a cinch for the gifted boy, and when the result had been tabulated, he was very proud to have '143' as the registered number. He was assured that his test result would be added to his student file, and that the system would better place him where he should be academically. It was all algorithmic in this school district, just another modern miracle of programming, and with just that small string of numbers, it'd update his file completely to better suit his needs. But the administrative clerk had made a mistake. It should have been inconsequential to fix, just a typo really...On her keyboard, the '1' had become a little worn in its age; it didn't always register the keystroke, and she'd been assured that a replacement would soon be coming, but it hadn't come before the IQ test. So his impressive '143' became simply '43', still very impressive, but for the completely opposite reason. It meant the difference in having the highest IQ score in the system and having the absolute lowest. So, as had been explained to him, the algorithm would go ahead and do its thing. It would completely rewrite his file to accommodate his new IQ score, though still being a 'dumb' program, it would have to make plenty of assumptions. For example, with an IQ *that * low, there would likely need to be plenty of accommodations. It automatically switched his class placement to Special Ed for one, and not just the regular special room, but the bottom-tier class. The algorithm also had to assume he wasn't capable of toilet training, and that with such a low intellect, that he'd need the most heavy duty type of 'special' diaper that got made. It also assumed that he probably drooled a lot too, so a big bib would be in order. Little by little, column by column, everything changed. His life would be changing, and he'd have no recourse to stop it. It came at him fast. He'd come to school today with the idea that he'd be moving up a few grades, but instead, he'd been processed at the *other* end of the building. He'd known something was strange from that alone, since the other side were the younger grades and the special ed hall. He was taken into a changing room to be put into his 'proper attire', which according to his new file, was: an immense diaper, a drool bib, a onesie, and a dunce cap. The person getting him dressed for his new class didn't seem to pay his complaints any mind; sure this kid kept saying he was a genius, but what did the student record say? There was a blind trust in bureaucracy, as if documentation, no matter how clearly flawed, superseded common sense. Against all his struggling, the administrator got the freshly padded boy down to the end of the hall and to the classroom that'd he be calling his own. Walking in, there was an immediate shift in tone; in the classroom, it was like some bizarre fusion of a daycare and a filth factory. Lots of colors, lots of infantile toys and imagery, and plenty of drooly boys whose combined presence meant that not a moment went by where the sound of flatulence or defecation wasn't hanging in the air. Rhys used his free hand to pinch his nose, appalled by the sudden malodorous assault; the smell of poopy diapers was like a thick miasma that had contaminated every square inch of his horrid room. He saw his new 'peers', seemingly mindless and a motley assortment of different ages, all clearly thickly diapered. The genius cringed at their lack of shame or dignity; they were so unrefined! He couldn't possibly get left in *here*! But nobody would listen! He watched as the administrator spoke with one of the special ed teachers and then went to take her leave. Again, he tried to plead his case, but the special ed teacher just looked exasperated at his pleas, like he was just being obnoxious. She smugly brought up his file on the computer and recited the terms within. From his laughingly low IQ score, to his extreme diaper requirements, to his bleak outlook. To her, the system was perfect, and if it said these things about Rhys, then she considered it a more trustworthy source than the evidence whining right in front of her. Finally at her limit, she gave him a bottle of juice and told him to go play with his new classmates. He started to angrily walk away, but not before noticing that the teacher was just getting on social media to browse, while her zoo of a classroom ran itself. Rhys winced at the strange tasting juice, but he was so stressed out, that he found comfort with the bottle. As he vacantly nursed at it, he suddenly felt a nudge at the back of his onesie, he turned his head and looked disgusted to see one of the dummies trying to stick his nose up against Rhys' diaper. Looking around though, that seemed to be a common activity in here; plenty of boys were crawling around and sniffing at eachother's sagging, brown-splotched diapers. To Rhys, it looked like dogs sniffing eachother's butts at the park, and he stuck out his tongue at the sight. He shooed the moron away and went back to finishing his juice and contemplating his life. Rhys hadn't even noticed that the classroom door had opened: "...Alright, Miss Crawford, I went to the diaper closet and found the 'Tardpants' you were talking about; I don't think the class has had anyone with a low enough IQ to need them before, so they were wedged waaaaay in the back. This is for the new transfer, right?" A boy had come in, carrying a giant package of diapers, branded humiliatingly as 'Tardpants', with an unsubtle subtitle of 'For Under 45 IQ Only'. He had gone right up to the teacher's desk to let her know, not even noticing that the new transfer student was already here, or that he was actually a misplaced genius. "Thank you, Benjamin. You shouldn't have to go back for a while, each one of these should last most of the school day...You can put them over at the changing table." Benjamin Collins, forever the silver medal of their grade. Whatever Rhys did, Benjamin was always coming in second place, much to his continued chagrin. Since Rhys had never lost to him, he really didn't see Benjamin as being worthy enough to consider a 'rival', but Ben had very different views on that matter. Rhys' newest contemplation was the cramping he was starting to feel rumble down below; after a large full bottle of prune juice, it was no wonder what was going on down there! He quietly groaned, wondering if he'd have any luck with asking to use the toilet, maybe that could even help convince them their error! "..**Rhys?** Is that you? Why are you dressed like that?" The padded boy heard a hardly subdued snickering from above and lifted his dunce-cap adorned head to see the visage of his former classmate. "..Benjamin?! I, uhh, well you see.." "What happened to you? You're dressed up like one of the retards stuck in here. Wait, don't tell me, you're the new student? Haha, that's hilarious! What, did you go swimming in a warm lake or something?" The brunette jeered, hungry questions flying by at a million miles a minute. Rhys fumed and offered a glare in return. "N-no, you imbecile! An amoeba didn't eat my brain, they just messed up on my transfer to a higher grade! Nobody will be reasonable about this either.." "Messed up? Nah, I think they put you exactly where you should be. You know that you're technically considered the 'dumbest' kid in here? That's why I had to go hunting down a grade of diapers that nobody else is made to wear." The sly lad replied with a sharky grin. "The computer m-must have had a glitch or something! I took an IQ test and scored highest in the school, not lowest! Ughhh..." He suddenly held his stomach and squirmed, a ripe ripple of gas sputtering helplessly into his inordinately giant diapers. "J-just let me use the bathroom and t-they'll understand I don't need d-diapers.." The other boy tapped a finger to his chin in thought. "Hmm...A glitch, huh? Scored high on your IQ test, hmm? And you just want to prove you got a real big brain by making poopies on the normal person toilet...Is that what I'm hearing?" Another fart blasted in his onesie, a muffled thunder that warmed his buttcheeks and the crook of his back, and another pained groan. "Y-yes! Just take me to the d-damn toilet!" Benjamin shook his head slowly, as if mildly scolding an infant. "Sorry, no can do. Your official IQ score, which I can at least tell the range of thanks to that diaper, means that you don't have any potty privileges. You're already wearing your toilet, and you'll be sitting in it until your designated changing time." He reached over to pat Rhys on the head, "And I'm sure your new classmates will love to check out all your *hard work* after you're done pinching a giant loaf in your pants. I mean, you're kinda beneath their level, so they might make fun of you, but I'm sure they'll appreciate your poopy diapee." Rhys was about to go ballistic, however all that pent up rage was terrible for his bowel control; a few more wet toots slipped on out, and then, a hot steamer slipped out with another one. His face went from virulent wrath to one of abject shock and horror. "N-no, I...Mmphhh.." That first squishy plopping was all it took to cause the floodgates to crumble. The flatulence only picked up in intensity, growing wetter and more powerful with each diaper-dooking note. Rhys had to bend over, like a maestro taking his bow before the symphony of filth had come to an end. The back of his onesie slowly began to expand outward as the diaper swelled up with the semi-solid sins of his arrogance. As much as he was unloading into his diaper, it was only a moderately noticeable shift in the immense garment's size. It was such a thick diaper, with such an amazing capacity, that it'd truly take a school day's worth of hardcore loading to reach any limit. He'd be expected to wear the same diaper pretty much all day, and with no toilet privileges to speak of... Benjamin circled around and gave the back of the bloated onesie a firm series of pats, while Rhys was still suffering the diarrheal conclusion of his unexpected pruning; even with the constant stream of rude noises, sounds that already constantly echoed off these nursery decorated walls, the boy was able to keep a cool composure. "I think it'll be fun having you around. Helping out in here is something I do as an elective credit, and it usually sucks, but this changes everything...Except your smelly diaper of course. I can't wait to tell everyone! Mister head of the class...Mister skip a bunch of grades...Now you're just 'Rhys the Retard'. Apparently the biggest one of them all at that!" Rhys clenched his fists in indignant anguish, more hot mush noisily flooding his tardpants like a deluge in a valley. He could look around and see some of his new classmates were eyeing him from around the room, some with a smug sense of superiority, and some with a mindless curiosity over what devastation was taking place in his unique, thicker than everyone else's, diaper. Between the gross drooly classmates, the obtuse staff, and this vindicated silver medal dork, Rhys didn't have a very bright road ahead. Enough time in this mushbrained squalor, treated as a dumb diapered denizen, and he'd succumb to a fate most foul. Like a puddle takes the shape of the hole that it is left in, his mind would become the shape of the hole that it'd been forced into. It was only a matter of time.