STORY - REGRETS #6 (PT.1) WORKSITE MISTAKE

REGRETS #6 (PT.1)

WORKSITE MISTAKE

A new caption series of lads making decisions they tend to regret, or wishes they should have thought twice about.

Aaron was on his bike, hanging out on a street corner with his mate Dave, no job and bored out of their minds on the morning of Halloween. They’d both been ass holes at school, then college and now they’d managed to lose every job they’d got from drugs, drinking or being plain idiots. Aaron had just started dealing weed, and the two of them were now waiting at a building site at 9am for a lad to come for a pick up.

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“Mate, this place is-a-s#it-hole!” Dave gestured towards the building site with his spare hand as he passed the joint to Aaron. “Na, just their choice to have such crap jobs-“ he paused to take a long drag on the joint “-but you’s neva find me in a dead end job like this mate” before he passed the smoke back. Dave went to say something foul before a bloke about their age walked out from the steel gate to the construction site. H“You Aaron?” Dave silenced, realising he’d probably been heard. While guy guy ‘LOOKED’ their age, he was clearly build like a brick wall and was easily a foot taller and wider than either of them. Aaron stepped forwards, sticking a new joint into his mouth so when he spoke, it was slightly slured as he smoked at the same time. “You Baz?” The huge builder nodded and gestured to the steel, muddy gate.

“See ya in a bit dude, I’ll sort this and head over to yous’ in a bit. Got a few more drops to do first init” Dave nodded, fist bumped and walked the other way as Aaron walked his bike towards Gaz, and the gate beyond.

He pushed his bike inside and Gaz locked it behind him. Aaron’s foot sloshed into thick slurry and he glanced around his new surroundings. It was a huge site of trucks and building materials, concrete being poured and a row of blue offices. All set into thick mud and gravel stood infront of a huge, half built warehouse covered with massive men hammering and welding like gorillas climbing a jungle of steel and wooden beams. Gazleant forwards and took the bike from his hands “Leave it by the gate lad, proper muddy and it’ll get mashed by a truck or sommit” Aaron nodded, joint still in his mouth, as Gaz came back and led him over to some of Gaz’s mates. All stood by a fire, all workers there and all eager for a smoke of which Aaron, being a dealer, was to provide. “I put ya bike behind the office, ill get ya cash, mates’all look after ya. It was 100 yeah?” “Yeah mate, its good stuff” Aaron shouted after him as he found himself stood alone, at the fire, surrounded with people he’d never met.

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“So you’re the new dealer?” one said in a gruff voice, massive cigar in his mouth. “Yeah mate-im just round corner so im always here if ya-“ but he was cut off by another guy “You look like ya doin’ alright for yaself ay” Looking him up and down, hovering on his shoes, expensive NIKE trainers and sweatpants, both with a thin layer of mud that had splashed up the sides as he walked in. “Yea, ah I’ll clean them when I’m back, proud of my trainers”

The lads all laughed to themselves and Aaron found himself half laughing along with them, Gaz wouldn’t be lon and then he’d be out of there and off to make money off the next twat. At that moment, as if summoned by his thoughts to leave, the gate opened and a huge lorry started to pull in, blaring sirens started and the guys stood back. Aaron turned and did the same but too late. A huge tyre splashed through a mud puddle that had gathered behind them. It rose up in slow motion to Aaron as it layered him from head to toe in thick mud. “Ah F@CK! MY CLOTHES!” The guys around him walked back “Sorry we should have warned ya, gets proper messy here n’ ya never stand by the trucks mate” a few trying to help by stoking the fire to dry him off, all laughing like bears around a honey pot. Surprised, Gaz finally returned from one of the blue offices, money in hand.

“Oh mate, sh!t you’re a mess, C’mon” In one motion Gaz placed his huge hands under his arms and lifted Aaron over the puddle before he could say anything. His now ruined joint fell to the floor. “You got anywhere I can sort ma-self out fam?!” Aaron asked as he tried to not feel the mud dripping into his shoes. It was weird, his shoes felt thicker, as did his shirt, heavier almost by the second. “Course mate! Over here” and Gaz led him straight over to a set of blue toilets. “Go in there, not much but it’ll give ya time to settle” Aaron barely had time to think about what Gaz was saying and was already walking for the private space, quickly slamming the door behind him.

“Oh….f@ck this…..” he said defeated as he pawed at the mud on his clothes and coat, trying to flick off what he could. He finally peeled his coat off to find his shirt had become baggy, really baggy, and had somehow soaked up mud from through his coat. It clung to him sloppily as he moaned “This was a damn nice top! -Wait it wasn’t sleeveless?” he held his arms up, mud was caked up his arms, some it had dried on. “That aint possible I just got here” His shirt had lost its sleeves and developed into a heavy sagging vest some hick would wear. Suddenly, his stomach ached, like he’d both realized something awful and ate gone off milk at the same time. “Ah fuck!” he grappled with his chest as the mud spread, his hands calloused and his NIKE sweat pants continued to thicken, his shoes getting taller as they grew up his ancles, hugging his skin. Damn he felt like he was on fire, his body was boiling as it morphed more cub like by the second.

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The room was steaming, he could see it rising off of him like a mist. “W-What the fu@k is goin on here!” His gut hurt and he slammed down onto the seat. As he did, his coat and jacket finally gave up staying cloth and poured over his shoulders as they too morphed into nothing but thick mud and construction slop, soaking into what was left of a new wife beater vest that hung under his muddy armpits. He couldn’t see yet, but his arm pits were ywllow from never washing on site, rank with BO and pit stains drenched what was left of the white on his vest. He tried to slap the thick globs out of his hair before it ruined his cut but it was thick and tangled in second, only getting worse the more as he tried to get it out. It was a nightmare. Soon Aaron was panting for air, dripping with sweat and mud, leant forwards on his knees as his trousers became thick rubber work bottoms and a chain wrapped around his waist, the coolness of it giving him a second of relief before it tightened to hold the rubber slacks up and tight. Two straps wrapping over his shoulders before turning to bright orange work site trousers. His expensive NIKE shoes were on the verge of transforming entirely into ordinary back work boots. They tightly gripped his newly chunky feet, his toes struggled for room as they grew wide and clumbsy. A set of thick and dirty woollen socks being pressed against his legs as they formed into sports socks he’d never taken off and suddenly….they were no more than huge work boots, the final touch being two large and heavy locks on each instead of laces so could never remove them. “THosE Fu@Ks-My-MY VoicE! W-WOt?!” His voice wabbled and dropped to a dumb bassy tone. He lost vowels and found his whats becoming WOT, hello became OI OI MUSH, as his vocals rewired to a hefty builders slang. More over, he could taste beard, he’d never had a beard. He felt his face and felt subble, longer and longer it grew poking into his mouth.  Soon the taste of baccy? No, cigars? It was like he was gaining a history he’d never known about. “I GOTA GIT OUTA ERE” his body was aching he must has gained a foot in height, his shoes nearly doubled in size, he felt heavy, dumb and large, like he'd gained a lifetime (and maybe a few years extra) of working on a building in just a few minutes!

He went to push open the door, slamming his shoulder against it, but nothing happened. He pushed harder still, kicking angrily with his thickening half boot, half Nikes. It opened a tiny bit but only enough to see a huge black metal object holding it shut. A set of butch lads voices could be heard laughing outside, the smell of joints and smoke billowing from them. Aaron had to assume they’d done this. Parked something in the way, whatever those ass holes had done, he was trapped now and he was still changing!

Finally the door buzzed as a huge piece of machinery drove aside. The door was thrown open and Gaz stood in the beam light. “Fu@k look at you mate” Hr gabbed his new filthy friend and yanked him up. As he touched him Aaron saw thick tattoos spread from his fingers to his shoulders under the Mud. Marking him with Anchors, tribal swirls, a huge dragon under his vest, mud and chest hai and finally a huge ENGLAND flag across his cub gut. “What da’fuk! Is this! LET ME GO!” He grabbed and yanked to free himself before a large hat was slapped down onto his head. “That’ll calm ya down” and Aaron stood there, screaming in his head but like a daze stood there groggily. The mist of sweat and mud still rising off him. Gaz grinned “You’re a proper stinky one though. Only gonna get worse from here as well, you’ll regret takin the piss out of us MATE!”

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Aaron looked around “Its hard ta-ta think-man” –“Boss now Aaron, actually, here-“ and Gaz took out a badge, scribbling something onto it. “There ya go- Pig, suits ya, or it will do. Looks like ya a bit older now too mate. Least ya mate ain't gonna recognise ya now. Now that you can do nothin' less or the lads say so ya got me Pig?” Pig nodded.

“Anyone asks ya name, ya tell’em its Pig now got it?” Pig looked confused, he knew he shouldn’t be here, but his head was getting fussy with the thick haze around him. “But I gotta go, My mates waiting” “Your mate? Whats his name Pig?” Pig thought hard, he’d just seen him, he had to walk home from here and deal his....something…smoke? What did he do. What was his name! “I dunno, I just stink and wanna get outa here. I need to get clean...my clothes are all messed up...head hurts...I was only here to-dunno I stink so bad mate I need to-” Gaz grabbed pigs head and thrust it into his own rank pits.

Pig yelled for help but his head was wet in seconds and the musk was overpowering, Gaz held him for some time until he stopped struggling, Gaz easily overpowered him, tight ingredients holding him for a little longer. His mates still laughing at the newbie being put through his paces. Gaz smiled, pulled out a huge cigar like joint, then pushed Pig backwards into the toilets and shouted, raining his muscled shoulders, dripping with BO, sweat and long hairs that were wrapped around Pigs head, face and neck.  “You aint got no mates, you do as we say now, so you can stay over here and do whatever the lads ask ya too, alright?!” He grabbed him let Pig stagger to stand. Legs moving slowly as his gut expanded and his body solified into its new bearing cub state.

Pigs face was dumbed and his nose had a developed a broken look, the stubble beard had pushed out intk a thick red hanging beard. His eyes were baggy and haggered from years of working long hours. “Yeah I can do that...." but a small part of his brain sparked "....just gimme my bike after the shift so I can get home” Gaz nodded, he knew by then Aaron would be little more than a by stander I  his own body as Pig was groomed to take over and show this little s#it what a dead end job is really like. Weather he likes it or not.

Stay tuned for Part 2.