Long Story #4: Mummy Madness (3. The Mummy's Curse)

III. The Mummy's Curse (Content tags: Slice-of-life, messing, wetting, diapers, humiliation, bully protagonist, bullying reversal, pranks, stink torment) Caleb was a bully, that much was simple to say. He got his jollies from playing cruel pranks on others, and other than April Fool's day, the next best time for it was during Halloween. His target this year? The timid little mouse that'd moved in across the street, with the dorky glasses and the stupid bowl-cut: Morty. Morty was in his class at school, but he didn't say a whole lot; he was reserved, bookish, and annoyingly modest about his high marks. Caleb had been aggravated thus far that none of his pranks had landed on the beanpole of a boy, and so he'd spent extra time planning for this night. A few weeks back, in the spirit of the spooky season, their teacher had done an Egyptology lesson; near the end of that section, he'd woven a harrowing tale about the 'curse of the mummy', which allegedly had claimed the souls of all the archaeologists who had brought back one of the pharaohs to display in the museum. It was the only time he had seen a genuine reaction out of the dork; nervous eyes, shaky legs, and anxious follow-up questions to the teacher. There was even a deep frown whenever the teacher mentioned they would be taking a field trip to the museum to see the mummy exhibit themselves. It was perfect. That's why Caleb had spent the weeks since in concocting the perfect fright for his neighbor; he'd sown seeds of what was to come, with comments to Morty about rumors he had heard about the mummy. He made up a story about having strange dreams of the mummy's sarcophagus, and how he hadn't been feeling well, even going as far as to paint little green spots on his tummy as a fake 'plague' to show off. Every little bit made Morty more on edge, and Caleb drank it all in. This would finally culminate on the day of the field trip, when the class was poised to go into town for the museum. Caleb would call in sick that day, and his own parents being at work, meant that he could engage the rest of his prank with impunity. He'd gone to the mummy exhibit earlier in the month, since kids got in for free, and he'd scoped out whatever he could use in service of his cruel joke. Most prominent was the replica sarcophagus that didn't actually have anything inside of it; its presence was more to give a further example of what some might look like, since designs varied, and the museum had a limited amount of genuine articles. It stood upright in the corner of the exhibit, its lid slightly cracked open. It was surprisingly solid for a replica, and that meant the lid was very heavy, so it took a decent amount of effort to pry it open enough for someone to hide inside. It was the perfect prop for the perfect prank. The hardest part was sneaking in while in costume, and getting the costume on in the first place. Autumn was chilly, so he could wear pants and sleeves over the majority of his bandages, and he'd brought enough to wrap his face up afterwards. To make sure nobody would see what he was up to, he had to go into the museum very early. That would mean waiting around in a coffin for hours, which meant... Embarrassingly, he'd strapped on a nappy before wrapping himself up in bandages. His little brother was a bedwetter, a heavy one, so it was as simple as raiding his half of the drawers. Getting it on had been a struggle, and it was humiliating, but he knew that there was a real chance his bladder might present a problem. Once in the hall of the exhibit, he stripped down to just his costume, and he stuffed his clothes in a backpack. He stowed the backpack behind the sarcophagus, and slipped into the darkness of the gilded tomb, while making sure to leave himself an opening to keep an eye out of. It would be a few hours of waiting, and to his own embarrassment, he did have to whizz on himself during that time. The diaper swelled with warmth, bulging slowly against the bandages wrapped around his front; the garment sopped everything up perfectly, wicking away the damp discomfort as swiftly as he released it. It was a small price to pay. Finally, he would hear the sounds of his fellow students, as they walked around the exhibit; he listened to their chipper excitement, and kept an eye out for the target of his cruel prank. He had to make sure to get Morty alone, so that he wouldn't get in trouble with the teacher, and he had a contingency for just that. Whenever the class had started to leave, he picked up his cellphone from the bottom of the coffin, and he texted Morty, having found the boy's number from a kid who had been a part of a group project with him. 'Hey plz go take a picture of the gold coffin thing. My baby bro wanted to see it but I got sick - Caleb' He was taking advantage of Morty's kindness, which he hoped would overcome the meekness of the cowardly boy. As he waited for Morty to turn back though, he was starting to feel a serious disturbance in his gut. The beans he'd had with breakfast, too large a portion, were starting to disagree with him. So he needed to move this prank along fast. Fortunately, he heard the squeak of sneakers on linoleum, and peering out of the crack in the sarcophagus, he could see Morty nervously walking by to go take a picture of the primary mummy display. Perfect. He slowly creaked the lid open, further and further, and as he stepped out, he let out a ghastly moan. "Cuuuuuuurse....Cuuuuuuurse!" Morty turned his head, and his eyes bugged out; his face became pale, and while he looked like he was trying to scream, only a pitiful squeak would escape. The icing on the cake was watching as a stain began to rapidly form on the front of his trousers, a liquid representation of his fear. Caleb couldn't help himself, he busted out laughing at the sight, a bit hypocritically considering the soggy nappy around his waist. "O-oh my gosh, you're such a little baby!" The illusion broke in an instant, and Morty's terror changed to shocked outrage: "C-Caleb? I thought you were sick! I-I thought..." "You thought there was such a thing as a mummy's curse, and you went ahead and did a big wee in your pants! You're such a dumb idiot." "How did you do this? They wouldn't let you in dressed like that!" Caleb rolled his eyes, "No duh, brainiac. I changed in the coffin. My clothes are in my backpack, behind the dang thing. Bet you wish you had some with you, huh? I can't wait for everyone to see--" The boy didn't get a chance to finish before Morty charged forward and gave him a powerful shove; the wrapped boy stumbled backwards, off-balance already from the way he was dressed, and he went right back into the sarcophagus. Before he could do anything else, Morty was putting all his strength into closing the lid. "Enjoy being a mummy, you jerk. I'll tell someone on the way out to come check on you." "W-wait, stop, I--" SLAM. Caleb was left in total darkness, and his backpack was undoubtedly being stolen, so that his trousers could replace the ones that Morty had saturated. A little bit of claustrophobia set in, but that was hardly the worst of his problems. Prrrt...Brrraaappp... The altercation had troubled his gut even further, leaving his tummy in turmoil. Toots were slipping out into his nappy, and with nowhere to go, they would begin to taint the air inside his entombment. Minutes would pass, each bringing more unwanted flatulence, until the inevitable happened... Caleb started to crap himself. There was no avoiding it, not whenever his bowels were this upset. It started with a large dollop of hot mush, which immediately smeared across his bottom, because of how taut his bandages wrapping the nappy were, and it only proceeded to worsen with each gassy eruption. He tried in vain to push himself free, and then pounded against the lid with his fists, but once fully closed, he didn't have the strength necessary strength to open it, nor was he making enough noise to catch anyone's attention. The smell of poop became inescapable, just as much as the radiant warmth of the droppings, dazing him in a smelly smog of his own creation. The ripe fumes condensed in the tight space, and eventually, his bottom would begin to itch as the muck grew irritable against his delicate skin. His best case scenario would be that a museum worker came to find him in this state If there was a mummy's curse, then it was he who now suffered from it, not Morty. Caleb was learning a very important lesson about the consequences of his little pranks today.