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"submission_right_thumb_medium_x": "120", "submission_right_thumb_medium_y": "120" } ], "description": "Commission for [iconname]Sharkyplumber[/iconname], who taught me about the old mystic existence of [i]Zeller's[/i].\n\n[s]Remember when I said I was gonna finish the ending to that last story in a week? Well, writer's block's a bitch.[/s]\n\n[url=https://ko-fi.com/novarites]If you like what I do, tips on Ko-fi are greatly appreciated![/url]\n", "description_bbcode_parsed": "Commission for \r\n\t\t\t\t\t\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t
\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t
\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\tSharkyplumber\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t
\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t		\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\tSharkyplumber\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t
, who taught me about the old mystic existence of Zeller's.

Remember when I said I was gonna finish the ending to that last story in a week? Well, writer's block's a bitch.

If you like what I do, tips on Ko-fi are greatly appreciated!
", "writing": "“Oh my [i]goooooooood[/i] dude,” Butch groaned. The bored-out-of-his-mind gator had followed his…friends(?) along to the mall. He [i]thought[/i] he had nothing to better do, but he certainly would’ve found something better than spending an hour to pick out a single goddamn screw size. “Just fucking [i]pick [/i]one!”\n\n“We gotta make sure we got the right ones!” His chubby beaver companion Trevor chipperly responded as he sorted through packs of fasteners hanging along the aisle. “It’s super annoying when you get the wrong pack and don’t notice till you open it, and then you can’t return ‘em!”\n\n“It’s only like $5, it’s no big deal!”\n\n“You know you can leave whenever you want right?” Grumbled Mark, the equally hefty boar who was squatting to survey the lower racks. Being the more precise of the nerdy pair, he brought his ruler along with their required screw head diameters marked off.\n\n“Butch won’t leave, he likes us too much.” Trevor casually commented.\n\n“[i]Pfffffft[/i],” Butch scoffed, a red tinge growing on his cheeks. “I only came here for the food court…and ‘cause my dad’s hogging the TV at home.”\n\n“See Mark? He thinks we’re more fun than his dad’s shows!”\n\n“Woo-hoo.” Mark ‘cheered’ flatly.\n\nButch groaned, appalled at the notion he [i]likes[/i] these freaks, but even more appalled that they’re not leaving yet. As Mark squatted just before him, he couldn’t help but notice a generous length of buttcrack creeping above the waistband of his red shorts, [i]gross[/i]. Butch [i]also[/i] noticed the pack of mini ball-bearings to his right, the tiny steel spheres looked small enough to fit through the slightest crevice…Butch decided to do something amazing.\n\nMark squinted back and forth between the lines on the ruler and the numbers on the packaging. The model plane he and Trevor were building together (a 1:76 scale of the TU-144) needed just a [i]few[/i] more screws before it could officially be called complete. As he rose the ruler to yet another pack, his eyes lit up. [i]1.50 mm[/i], he found one of the sizes! “Hey Tre-[i]waaaaaah![/i]” The strange sensation of tiny, [i]cold[/i] beads of metal invading the spaces of his rump sent a shiver up his spine. He shot up to his feet, his scruffy pig tail slamming down and his butt clenched hard enough to arch his back. “[i]Oh my god, oh my god[/i]!”\n\n“Mark what happened?!” Trevor rushed over and wrapped an arm around his side. “Is it another…[i]bathroom[/i] [i]situation?[/i]” He badly whispered the end of that question.\n\n“[i]No[/i], it’s not that!” He rasped, his face blazing red. Behind them Butch cackled, Mark noticed the half empty pack of bearings rattling away in his grip. “Did you pour that down my asscrack?!”\n\n“Yeah! Keep your pants up next time, fatass!” Butch ‘advised’ in between guffaws.\n\n“Butch?! Why would you do that?!” An innocently aghast Trevor exclaimed as if questioning the heavens.\n\nMark narrowed his eyes, his hand instinctively tightening into a fist. He didn’t like Butch, he didn’t like him those years ago when he used to be their bully, and he still doesn’t like him in whatever ‘friendship’ this was, that frankly didn’t feel much different.\n\n“Cause you guys are taking so damn- [i]ough![/i]” Butch was interrupted by Mark’s furious fist to his pudgy stomach, crumpling immediately.\n\n“Mark?!” Trevor’s disbelief was turned to his other friend.\n\n“Didn’t you see what he just did?!” Mark flustered as more beads came unlogged through his rump.\n\n“[i]Augh[/i]…” Butch slowly unfurled himself, peering up at Mark with fire in his eyes. \n\nThe angry, [i]violent[/i], red that plastered the boar’s face just moments ago seems to have faded away into a pale white. “Uh, But-”\n\n “You little, [i]bitch![/i]” Butch swung a fist that Mark dodged, but that arm swung back around lower, taking Mark to the floor.\n\n“Butch [i]noooooo[/i], he bruises easily!” Trevor jumped into the fray in a vain attempt to pull them apart. \n\n“Let go of me, dickhead!” The trio scuffled around on the floor for a short while before the stern tiger manager promptly kicked them out. It was officially a draw…plus some bite marks on Mark’s shoulder.\n\n“C’mon Mark, it was just a joke!” Trevor pleaded with his boar friend who was headed promptly to the mall's exit. Butch nonchalantly trailed behind at his own pace.\n\n“I didn’t think it was funny!” Mark snapped back, his brisk pace unfazed.\n\n“He said he was sorry!”\n\n“No he didn’t!”\n\n“No I didn’t.” Butch confirmed himself.\n\n“Well…you got a good punch on him!” Trevor presented it as an equalizer.\n\n“Yeah, you’re stronger than you look…little bitch.” Butch said with a rub to his still aching midsection.\n\n“He deserved it!” Mark huffed. “‘Cause of that asshole we can’t get the screws we need!”\n\nButch rolled his eyes, only the biggest nerds would care this much about some screws. “Look dickheads, I got your stupid screws…” He pulled the 1.50 mm pack out of the pocket of his camo shorts and presented it with an aloof limp hand.\n\nTrevor’s eyes lit up. “[i]Alright![/i] See Mark, he likes us!”\n\nMark was unimpressed. “You know he stole those right?”\n\n“Nah, I borrowed it.” Butch answered, barely hiding a smirk.\n\n“Uh…you’re gonna pay for those later, right?” The ever-innocent Trevor asked.\n\n“Yeah dude sure.”\n\n“No he’s not!” Mark spat.\n\n“Well do you wanna take ‘em back and piss off the manager some more?” Butch took great satisfaction in watching Mark’s eyes nervously quiver at the thought.\n\n“…No.”\n\n“[i]Heh[/i], pussy.”\n\n“But we still need the other size! And that’s the only store here that sells tool stuff!”\n\n“Nu-uh, there’s one more!” Trevor announced, and then paused for suspense with a giddy bucktooth smile. “[i]Zellers![/i]”\n\n“Zellers?”\n\n“There’s a Zellers here?!” Butch perked with excitement, his voice reaching a tone that could possibly be called [i]whimsical[/i].\n\n“What the fuck? I’ve never seen you happy before.” Mark didn’t like how unnerving happiness looked on Butch’s sharp toothed maw. \n\n“Aww dude, my dad and I used to eat at Zellers all the time! I didn’t know they had one here!”\n\n“What’s so special about them? They all kinda look like shit.”\n\n“Fuck you! Zellers is a store for real men who grew up in the [i]sticks![/i] Pussies like you wouldn’t get it.”\n\n“Yeah Mark, everyone loves Zellers!” Trevor wrapped his arms around both of their shoulders, happy for the uneasy harmony. “You gotta try one of Smitty's burgers before they all close forever.”\n\n“Smitty's? I thought you wanted to go to Zellers.” Mark felt Trevor pulling them back towards the center of the mall. Looks like his day’s not over yet.\n\n“We are going to Zellers!”\n\n“Where they have…Smitty's burgers?”\n\n“Yeah!”\n\n“…What?”\n\n“Shut up nerd, you’re gonna [i]learn![/i]” Butch said, an excited grin on his face as they made their way to the magical place.\n\n* * *\n\nAt first glance, Zellers didn’t seem that special. The aisles were lined with a variety of low-cost gadgets, body care, and canned food, much like any other run of the mill bargain store. At a closer glance, it still didn’t seem that special. The only aspects that stood out to Mark were the underlying red and yellow colors themes, and the tacky 70s looking action signage that screamed its sales at him. “So…what’s so cool about this place?”\n\n“It’s the [i]vibes[/i] man, the vibes!” Replied Butch, practically frolicking through the aisles ahead of them.\n\n“It reminds me of shopping with my mom and dad…” Trevor said poetically while touching the cardboard cutout of the bear mascot.\n\n“But you can…still do that? And at better stores?” Mark clearly didn’t feel the nostalgia.\n\n“It’s different now!”\n\n“You don’t get it Mark!” Butch defensively spat. “Your parents probably went to some fancy rich stores like J-Mart, or Bullseye!”\n\n“Woah, you just called Mark his name instead of a little bitch! I knew you liked us!”\n\n“I just don’t have a Zellers near my house. But it seems like any other store but…grosser.” The last word pitched up like a question as Mark tried to find a descriptor for the cheap, artificial feeling environment. \n\n“Sorry Mar-, uh, [i]bitch[/i] that they don’t sell fancy [i]caviar[/i], or [i]quinoa[/i] here.” Butch commented with a hint of genuine bitterness in his voice.\n\n“You were gonna say ‘Mark,’ I heard it!” Trevor pointed out with an excited flap of his beaver tail.\n\n“Shut up dickhead!”\n\n“Also what’s a ‘quinoa?’”\n\nMark sighed, what are they even doing here? “Are we gonna look for the screws?”\n\n“[i]God[/i], you’re still on the stupid screws?” Butch groaned. “Can we eat at Smitty's first? I’m starving!”\n\n“Yeah Mark, I haven’t eaten since this morning.” Trevor added.\n\n“It’s [i]11[/i].” The exasperated boar replied.\n\n“That’s still a long time! We’ll look for the screws after, Butch promises not to pull a prank again.”\n\n“No he didn’t.”\n\n“No I didn’t.” Butch echoed. “I but swear I probably won’t fuck with you if we go to Smitty's now.”\n\nMark sighed for the second time in under a minute, but he couldn’t help but gain some interest whenever food was involved. “Fine…this better be good.”\n\n“It will be!” Trevor assured.\n\nThe group headed to the back of the store, where it wasn’t actually a ‘[i]back’ [/i]but an attached ‘Smitty's’ restaurant. It was as if someone carved a rectangular section out of the rear wall and glued a strangely subdued restaurant in its place. Its seats and benches were cushioned with faux leather, lamp-shaded lights hung from a ceiling plastered with mildly elegant square tiles, while all the hard surfaces were made to look like wood and marble. It was a contrast from the very typical fast-food choices on the menu hanging above the cashier table, and the exposed gray metals of the kitchen behind it. “What is this place?” Mark asked out loud to himself. \n\n“[i]Smitty's![/i]” Trevor answered with a mystical whispered gusto.\n\n“The most underrated restaurant in the world.” Answered Butch as if an action movie narrator. “What are you getting dickhead?” He asked Trevor.\n\n“Ummm…a bacon cheeseburger, a milkshake, [i]aaaaaand[/i]…poutine with [i]extra[/i] gravy!”\n\n“Fucking [i]nice[/i], I’m surprised someone so dumb has good taste.”\n\n“It’s ‘cause my belly’s bigger than my brain.”\n\nButch turned to Mark. “You gonna eat here or are you [i]too good for this?[/i]” He asked, a mocking aristocrat inflection in his voice.\n\n“Fuck you.” Mark mumbled, already squinting at the menu through his glasses. “I’m gonna get…I dunno, I guess a cheeseburger?”\n\n“That's it? [i]Weak[/i].”\n\n“I’m trying this place for the first time, get off my back!”\n\nThe food wasn’t that bad to Mark. He didn’t see it as worthy of the gushing, borderline [i]sensual[/i] praise being spouted by his companions, but it was flavorful and satisfying as proper fast-food should be. The group used that energy boost to fuel some more dramatic screw scavenging. Or at least Trevor and Mark did.\n\n“Oh my [i]goooooooood[/i] dude,” Butch groaned. He was back to aimlessly waiting on two nerds. “How are we doing this again?!”\n\n“Well [i]someone[/i] got us kicked out the last store before we could find the other screws.” Mark sneered over his shoulder. Surprisingly, Zellers had a larger and cheaper selection of screws than the mini tool shop. Maybe this place isn’t so bad…not that he’d admit it.\n\n“W-well,” Butch’s eyes shifted but his grumpy expression was unfazed. “You could look faster dammit!”\n\n“Are you gonna help us look Butch?” Trevor asked, scouring the other side of the aisle.\n\n“Hell no, I don’t care about some stupid plane.”\n\n“You know, for someone who calls Mark a little bitch, you're sounding pretty bitchy right now.”\n\nTrevor said that insult with such nonchalance, and without even looking away from a screw package, as if to call Butch [i]insignificant[/i]. “Fuck you! Just, just…l-look for your stupid screws!”\n\nMark chuckled hearing that fluster in his voice. Having checked all the screw packs at eye level, he lowered into a squat to check the ones at the bottom. But just as he did, he felt a light pressure from lunch shift lower in his belly. His breath hitched, it moved fast. Within a second, it raced towards his thick parted rump cheeks and his hole twitched in anticipation. Before he could clench, his tail rose and the pressure burst out from his anus.\n\n[i]FRRRRPT[/i]- “Ah crap.” Mark smacked a hand into his split crack, muffling the end of that greasy puff.\n\n“O-oh f-fuck.” Butch sputtered before spilling into a hearty laugh.\n\n“Sorry…” Mark mumbled, fanning the air behind him.\n\n“Uh-oh, are you having a…[i]bathroom [/i]situation?” Trevor leaned down into his ear to ask.\n\n“[i]No![/i]” Mark stood up, pink blazing his face. Truth be told, he felt just a little warm bubble in his stomach, but it was nothing akin to his usual IBS flare ups…at least not yet.\n\n“Good! I was hoping Smitty's didn’t mess with your stomach. Cause it’s kinda giving me a tummyache…” Trevor gave his belly a few rubs through his red shirt, but then his nose twitched. “…I’m gonna look at the screws over there.” He said, inching over to fresher air.\n\n“Understandable…”\n\n“[i]Pfffft.[/i]” Butch scoffed. “You’re both pussies, Smitty's is [i]supposed[/i] to pack a punch.” A mischievous smile on his face, the gator lifted a leg and pushed out a great sputtering [i]PRRRRPTPTPT[/i]. Though, his smile soon faded as his gas came to a spicier and more moist ending than he was expecting.\n\n“How’s that ‘punch’ feeling asshole?” Mark asked.\n\n“J-just [i]fine[/i]. Hurry and find those damn screws.” Butch crossed his scaly arms, his eyebrow twitching.\n\n“You could help us!”\n\nButch twisted his lip as he thought it over. The deepened desire to get out of here fought with his petty refusal to help…the former won him over. “What size do you need?” He asked, another plume of heat rising in his stomach.\n\n“0.90 mm diameter.”\n\n“Dia-what?”\n\n“It’s how wide the head part is.”\n\n“Oh.”\n\n“[i]Duh[/i].”\n\n“Suck my dick, bitch!”\n\n“[i]Ugh[/i]…” Trevor held his stomach, bent over at the end of the aisle, battling the hot ache in his stomach, and the gentle pressure in butt. Partially numbed by the heat in his belly, that gas slipped out with an ultra-greasy [i]pop[/i]. “Sorry, don’t come look over here, I farted.” \n\n“Fucking gross dude.” Butch took his advice and headed to the opposite end of the aisle. He squinted at the various screw packages…1.10 mm, 0.8 mm, 1.2 mm…this task already sucks. Whatever stupid plane they’re trying to build isn’t worth this. “[i]Ugh[/i]…” Another hot twinge from his ailing stomach. What the hell? Smitty's never had this effect on him. He’s not turning into a pussy is he?!\n\n“[i]Mmmfh[/i]…” Mark softly groaned. In his squatting position gentle farts easily buzzed and from his spread hole. [i]Prrrrft…[/i] “[i]Nngn[/i].” [i]Ooh[/i], a particularly warm and moist puff made him shiver. Yet all that gas provided no relief from the fire in his belly. Dammit, he should’ve known better than to eat some new greasy food with his sensitive stomach. Maybe they could put a pause to their search.\n\nMark rose back to his feet, shifting the contents of his stomach and prompting an ominous gurgle. “Um, did you guys find the size yet?” He asked, a hand on his belly.\n\n“Nah.” Butch answered, having already given up and fiddled with his switchblade.\n\n“Oh yeah I did.” Trevor said, the 0.90 mm pack in his hand while he continued to survey the other packs.\n\n“Wha- why didn’t you say anything?” The growing [i]situation[/i] put some exasperation in Mark’s voice.\n\n“Yeah dickhead, I’ve been holding in a dump for like 5 whole minutes!” Butch barked.\n\n“So Smitty's fucked you up too huh?”\n\n“[i]Naaaah[/i] I always shit quick after eating, you’re just a pussy.” Butch stiffened against a moan from his belly.\n\n“I was hoping one of you would find better ones…” Trevor held up his pack of screws. “Look, they have this orange coating thing, it’s gonna look weird on the model.”\n\nMark’s exasperation shifted to a nerdy concern. “Ah man…” He imagined their beautiful TU-144, with random bright orange spots in its otherwise impeccable vintage Aeroflot paint scheme. “I guess we could paint over it, but it might look sloppy…”\n\n“Oh my fucking god, who [i]caaaaares?![/i]” Butch wailed like an impatient cub ready to leave the supermarket. \n\n“Me.” Trevor answered genuinely while Mark narrowed his eyes. “But my stomach hurts like crazy, you wanna just try and paint it over?”\n\nMark didn’t want to risk ruining their model, and also wanted to spite Butch with a longer wait. But as his stomach churned, he knew it was only a matter of time. “…Fine.”\n\n“While you dickheads pay for that I’m gonna go shit.” Butch so gracefully announced as he walked off to the bathroom.\n\n“Save me some toilet paper!” Trevor said.\n\n“And me…” Mark mumbled under his breath. The short walk to the cashier was a blessing in disguise, letting him air out silent poots in between uneasy steps. But the moment they came to a stop in line, those cramps rebloomed with a fiery vengeance.\n\n“Hey Mark, you Ok?” Trevor asked in a low voice. There were only 3 other furs, he too hoped for a quick check out.\n\n“Yeah,” He answered, instinctively clenching. “Why?”\n\n“Because your butt’s getting all clenchy like it usually does during your uh, [i]situations[/i].”\n\n“Don’t look at my butt!” Mark snapped, turning pink. Ironically the attention only made him clench more.\n\n“I’m just making sure! I think for the first time ever…Smitty's might’ve given us bad food.” He said, rubbing his stomach.\n\n“I knew it, [i]ugh[/i].” Mark hunched at another piercing cramp.\n\n“Hey dickheads.” Butch sauntered over, hands in his pockets.\n\n“That was quick.” [i]Thank god[/i], Mark thought to himself. He can go next.\n\n“Maybe ‘cause his butthole’s extra wide.” Trevor suggested with a smile.\n\nBoth boys stared back at him with a mix of confusion and horror. “God you’re fucking weird…” Butch shook his head. “Their bathroom’s broken. This is the first time Zellers ever let me down.”\n\n“Dammit.” Mark remarked. Those cramps won’t let up.\n\n“It’s alright, there’s a ton in the mall.” Trevor pat shoulder. “And Butch likes us so much, he’s waiting so we can go together!”\n\nButch’s mean-mug broke into a surprised, wide-eyed blush. “D-don’t be fucking weird, I just don’t want you losers to get lost.”\n\n“[i]Awww[/i] he doesn’t wanna lose us Mark!”\n\n“I want him to lose us…” Mark grumbled.\n\nThe line moved, and the screws were paid for ([i]this time[/i]) rather quickly, yet it was growing difficult to standstill even for a moment. It gave the group an early sense of relief to finally step out into the stale air of the mall corridor.\n\n“Goddammit,” Butch held his stomach as they walked. The fire was getting intense, he could feel his ring twitch for an eager relief. “The fuck did I eat?”\n\n“[i]Smitty's![/i]” Mark rasped stiltedly as he clenched his rump. “Your favorite restaurant gave us shitty food!”\n\nButch snorted. “The fuck’s wrong with you?” He chuckled at Mark’s awkward gate. “No way Smitty's making you walk like that.”\n\n“Uh, Butch I think Mark’s right.” Trevor conceded with a hint of disappointment. “I love Smitty's too, but all our stomachs started hurting after we ate their. [i]Ooh[/i]…” Trevor’s speed walk faltered, and that pressure in his rump [i]plaaaap[/i]ed out. “Sorry, I farted again.”\n\n“You don’t have to tell us every time!” Butch shouted.\n\n“It’s ‘cause I know Mark doesn’t like farts like you do.”\n\n“I don’t fucking like them!”\n\n“Then how come you fart out loud so much?”\n\n“That’s different!” Seeing the beautiful opportunity, he pushed for a bout of gas midstride. [i]BRRURP! [/i]“Oh fuck.” A heavy, [i]hot[/i], bitter pressure immediately pressed on Butch’s exit. Suddenly his walk went crooked too.\n\n“[i]Ha![/i]” Mark teased.\n\nThe group made it to the food court, the magical place that produced endless varieties of food, and the convenient quarters to release it. They hightailed it to the bathrooms tucked away in the back. “[i]Augh,[/i]” Trevor panted. “I can feel my butthole getting looser.”\n\n“Why do you say shit like this?” Butch grumbled at him.\n\n“Shit!” Mark aptly exclaimed. The mens’ bathroom door had a ‘closed for cleaning’ sign hanging from it.\n\n“Like that’s gonna stop me!” Butch brushed past the squirming Mark and smacked his hand on the door. But instead of a dramatic brutish entrance, it didn’t even budge. “What the fuck? Since when do they lock these things?!” He banged on the door. “[i]Heeeeeey![/i] Let us in asshole!”\n\n“Chill before they kick us out of the whole mall!” Mark snapped, putting some of that urgent energy to use by yanking back Butch’s arm.\n\n“[i]F-fuck,[/i]” Butch was in no condition to fight back. He had to clench his rump against a razor-sharp cramp. “So now what the fuck do we do?!”\n\n“[i]Ooooh![/i]” Trevor perked up. “I know a bathroom in here that [i]never[/i] closes for cleaning!”\n\n“Ew…but where is it?” Mark begrudgingly asked. Desperate times call for desperate measures.\n\n“Follow me! -[i]Augh[/i], wait, wait!” Trevor took one step and immediately had to lean against the wall from his own cramp attack. “[i]Hnnnn…[/i]” He strained, a fiery pressure shoved hard at his exit. A slick stream air plapped through his hole, feeling like hot bubbling lava. “[i]Augh[/i], sorry, I fa-”\n\n“We [i]know![/i] Just take us to the damn bathroom!”\n\n“P-please.” Mark echoed. The urges were rising fast in his sensitive stomach.\n\n“Ok, Ok!”\n\nThe group set course for the complete opposite end of the mall, hobbling and clenching as fast as their raging guts would let them. “Ah dude,” Butch groaned, his hands pressing into his chubby stomach and butt. “If I shit myself, I’m throwing my underwear in your face.” He grunted as another silent fart hissed out, flooding his palm with the [i]grossest[/i], sloppy warmth.\n\n“Hold on, we’re almost there!” Trevor encouraged.\n\n“I-I’m trying!” Mark strained, walking with his shoulders tensed. Those familiar IBS hallmarks of [i]cramping[/i], [i]squeezing[/i], [i]burning[/i], ungraciously played out in his colon. That pressure felt all too ready to slip out on one unfocused step.\n\nThey continued down an emptier leg of the mall, the halls lined with vacant store spaces and shabby looking specialty shops. Equally shabby and nestled by a little trafficked entrance was their destination: “The [i]arcade?![/i]” Butch shouted out, aghast. The arcade indeed. Neon-yellow 8-bit letters on the signage above announced [i]Arcade[/i] with an anti-climatic zeal. Neither the flashy insides nor plain outside looked to have much activity. “Did you just want to play fucking games?!” \n\n“No, no, there’s a bathroom inside!” Trevor paused to open the door.\n\n“Oh no…” Mark said to himself, he remembered the bathroom from past trips there with Trevor. “But Trevor, there’s only one toilet!”\n\n“[i]What?![/i]” Butch’s tone reached a new enraged height.\n\n“We’ll take turns or something, [i]agh[/i].” Trevor clenched as he slowly raised a knee. “Come on, my butthole gets all twitchy when I stand still!”\n\nFeeling a similar sentiment, Mark rushed in without question. Butch followed suit, cradling his stomach. “I hate both of you so much…” He mumbled.\n\n“Nah, you love us.” Trevor quipped just as he stepped in.\n\nMark scurried past all the brightly colored games he and Trevor normally spent hours competing over. They were mere rainbow blurs in the corner of his eyes, the roaring fire in his stomach was the only thing he could register. “Aw crap, aw crap…” He muttered to himself, the bathroom door at the very back of the arcade was in view and his body knew he was close. All those stabs in his lower belly turned his speed walk into a painful limp. He squeezed his chunky cheeks together with all his might, it was the only thing keeping his twitching, desperate anus from opening too soon. “[i]Aaaaugh[/i], crap…” He couldn’t tell if the liquids seeping down his crack was sweat or his daily dose of diarrhea, but dammit, he’s right here! He’s gonna make it! His hand’s on the doorknob! \n\nHe threw the door open and was greeted by the familiar musty little bathroom, worthy of a rundown gas station. Complete with a beige trimmed plastic toilet seat, urinal, and a sink low enough for the Arcade’s small cub patrons. “O-oh my god.” Mark froze cross-legged at the door frame. His excited sphincter pushed so hard, so[i] early[/i]. “[i]Mmnng…[/i]” He strained, tiptoeing inside like he was balancing on a wire and letting the door slam behind him. He took those last few painful steps to the toilet and twisted himself around, incapable of standing up straight. His hands quivered as he tucked his thumbs into his waistband. “[i]A-agh, augh[/i]…” He let out breathy groans, something in his colon shifted and he felt a liquid bubbling out of his squished hole. The dam was broken.\n\n He tugged on his shorts and underwear, practically peeling them out of his deep crack, pulling them as far down as he could before his blazing guts stopped him from bending any further. He grit his teeth, half of his wide pinkish-tan backside was exposed, enough to hear the [i]squelching [/i]of warm liquids pushing into his crevice. Oh god, he needs to be quick…he took a breath, and in one quick move [i]yanked[/i] his bottom wear down and slammed his thick rump onto the seat with a jiggle.\n\n[i]SSSSSSSSHHHHHHHSPLOOOT![/i]\n\n“[i]A-aah![/i]” All that pressure, all that heat, [i]burst[/i] through his cheeks in a warm liquid spray, before his trapped gasses exploded. “Oh m-my god.” Mark’s legs quivered. Everything happened so fast, it left his dripping anus [i]tingling [/i]and twitching. And he wasn’t done yet. The most urgent of his cramps were gone, but blaze in his stomach and the pushes on his hole remained.\n\n“[i]Ung[/i]…” He sighed and let himself fully relax onto the seat, his soft, ample cheeks squashing around the plastic. Not the most comfortable place, but with an IBS attack any toilet is a throne. Mark took a breath, and gave his sphincter a squeeze…\n\n“[i]Augh![/i]” The door swung open and Butch stumbled in, hunched over and holding his angry stomach.\n\n“What the hell?!” Mark stretched his green shirt over his crotch. “G-get out!”\n\n“Shut up, I gotta [i]shit![/i]” Butch made a beeline for the sink. The delinquent gator had used far worse and far more taboo for a toilet before, this would more than make do. “Fuck, fuck…” His feet danced before the sink as he fiddled with his zipper. He could feel the strength in his sphincter waning. “[i]Fuuuuuck![/i]” The zipper went down, he threw camo shorts and boxers to the floor and lowered his oversized rump onto the lip of the sink.\n\n[i]FRRRRPT…Frrrrpt…FrrrrrRRRRRRRPT! [/i]A constant stream of farts blasted out wet chunks of scat so soft Butch could barely register them. Each one smacked into the bottom of the sink with a hollow thud. After so long of denying the urgent pushes, it felt [i]incredible[/i] to finally let all that air slap out of his hole. His awkward perch on the hard edge of the sink helped spread his pudgy rump, making that waste slip through ultra smooth. “[i]Awww[/i], fuck dude…” Butch sighed, a shameless smile plastered across his face. His ring was left with a nice warm feeling.\n\n“[i]Jesus![/i]” Mark covered his nose. From his angle, he got a horrifyingly good view of Butch’s plush cheeks pressed against the sink ledge. \n\n“Shut up, it smelled like ass before I got in here.” Butch held on to the sides of the sink and scooched his butt further over the open basin, the full curve of his massive jiggling rear hanging over the now blocked drain. “[i]Hnnnng![/i]” He crunched down and pushed, a more solid log begun to give his hole a proper crown. It gave him a gentle stretch but was moist enough to speedily slip through him with a greasy squeak. “[i]Auuugh yeeeeaah[/i]…” Butch groaned, that little anal work out made him shiver.\n\n“Holy fuck.” Mark mumbled, that was a brutal assault on his eyes, nose, and ears. And most painfully, his envious stomach too. “Can you get out now?!” A sharp twinge made his messy hole pucker.\n\n“Hell no, I take my [i]time[/i] when I dump. You should’ve locked the door little bitch.” Butch lifted his butt off the sink to tuck his uncut length between his thighs. A stream of urine splattered into the basin, partnered with an echoing airy [i]BRRRAAAP![/i] “[i]Ahhh[/i]…Hey…[i]dude[/i], can your feet not touch the floor?!” Butch snickered.\n\n“F-fuck you, stop looking at me you freak!” Mark somehow turned redder, his feet dangling inches off the floor as the urgency made his chunky thighs shiver.\n\n“Um, guys,” Trevor peeked his head through the door, a sign of strain on his face. “You almost done yet?”\n\n“N-no.” Mark mumbled. He winced, clenching on the seat as a slick poot slipped out of him.\n\n“Nope.” Butch remarked casually as his pee splashed away. “The urinal’s open dickhead.” He offered with a sadistic smirk. \n\n“Ok!” Trevor didn’t even blink. He jogged in, hands already lowering the waistband of his sweatpants and exposing half of his bouncing cheeks.\n\n“You’re fucking weird…” Butch mumbled, never an ounce[i] [/i]of discomfort from the damn beaver.\n\nA constant stream of wet poots leaked out of Trevor for that short trek across the bathroom. “Sorry, sorry,” That unbearable pressure was quite literally bubbling out of him. “[i]Ah[/i], my butthole’s leaking!” He spun around before the urinal, those poots were seasoned with a goopy muddy feeling [i]put-putting[/i] out of his hole. He yanked his pants to the ground, bent over, leaned back to press the top of his crack firmly against the urinal porcelain, and finally gave his bowels the push they were begging for. “[i]Hmmmfh![/i]”\n\nA new hurried wave of waste bulged his hole open and burst through with a gassy [i]flarp[/i] that splattered on the urinal's surface. A thick stream of soft grainy scat flowed from his hole, the subtle textures filed the room an oily crackling sound and felt so satisfying slithering through Trevor’s inner walls. The stream went on for a good 5 seconds, before slowing to a series of popping farts. “[i]Augh![/i]” Trevor let off his sphincter with a groaning exhale, his messy anus twitching. “Oh my god, [i]hnnnnng[/i]…” He gave another push, his plump glutes squashing and shivering against the porcelain as more fetid air sputtered and opened up his backside. Each bubble rippling out of his hole with the most bittersweet, relieving slap, and reverberating against the surface of the urinal. “[i]Hmmph…[/i]” Trevor gave one more push, his ring straining and dipping for any remaining waste. A small dollop of scat fell out of his winking hole, along with some final tiny toots. “[i]Auuuuugh[/i]…that felt [i]sooooo[/i] good…” He sighed, rubbing his stomach. All the searing pains in his stomach were extinguished with that movement, leaving just a subtle ache and nice satisfying buzz.\n\n“Holy shit!” Butch laughed. “We fucked this bathroom up!”\n\n“[i]Hehehe[/i]…‘shit.’” Trevor leaned up off the urinal and stretched, his uncut 2-incher shamelessly thrusted forward, and his shirt riding up his chubby belly. \n\n“Fuck dude,” Butch looked away, a shade of pink forming across his snout. “Put your pants back on!”\n\n“I gotta wipe my butt first.” He waddled over to the toilet, his exposed hefty rump jiggling. “How’s your stomach feeling Mark?” He asked, bending over in front of his friend to tear off some sheets of toilet paper.\n\n“[i]B-bad![/i]” Mark sputtered. He was too busy fighting to keep his insides at bay to be appalled by the view of Trevor’s sizable buttcheeks in his face.\n\n“Aww jeez, Smitty's really got you bad.” Trevor said, casually balling up a length of paper. \n\n“Heh, [i]pussy.[/i]” Butch jeered.\n\n“Shut up, your shitty restaurant got you too!” Mark snapped at the gator. “It’s ‘cause I can’t go until you guys get out!”\n\n“Why not? We went in front of you, and we didn’t even use a toilet.” Trevor gripped one of his fatty cheeks, his hand sinking his cushy flesh, and pulled it to the side, exposing his messy ring. He took a long slow swipe up the center of his crevice. “[i]Eugh[/i], it’s so slimy…”\n\n“Yeah pussy, you got the easy seat.” Butch quipped to the shuddering boar.\n\n“Butch and I once even pooped outside while our butts were touching, this isn’t so bad compared to that.”\n\n“Shut the fuck up, [i]you[/i] touched [i]your[/i] ass against mine!”\n\n“You liked it though.”\n\n“[i]Nu-uh![/i]”\n\n“W-what? [i]Ooh[/i]…” Mark hunkered down, holding his belly. Another cramp tore through his stomach and made his hole pucker. “[i]F-fuck[/i]…”\n\n“Go ahead Mark, push it out!” Trevor encouraged. “And open your legs after so I can throw this gross paper away.”\n\n“Oh my god…” Mark couldn’t hold it back. He was helpless but to cringe as that pressure forced itself through his hole. “[i]Auuuugh[/i]…” That first partially solid nugget gave his anus the slightest stretch before it [i]flew[/i] out of him, propelled by explosive bottled-up gas. The air flow was interrupted just as quickly as it started by a bubbly sputtering brown liquid, the consistency of thick gravy. “[i]Ung[/i]…” He moaned as that pressure let off with an ugly gassy [i]fwarp.[/i] Butch cackled from his perch on the sink, as if he too didn’t just blow his guts out. Mark rolled his eyes and gave his sphincter another push. A whiny, tired sounding, duck-like fart puttered out of his equally tired hole. “[i]Ah[/i]…” He sighed, his ring giving a few weak flexes. He sunk back onto the seat, going limp with relief. “O-oh god…” \n\n“That was [i]hilarious![/i]” Butch fell into laughter again.\n\n“See, doesn’t that feel better?” Trevor asked, a genuine smile on his face knowing his friend found relief.\n\n“Y-yeah…” A flustered Mark looked away. As with his usual stomach attacks, the movement made the harshest of his pains disappear, the more manageable burn left behind would go away soon too.\n\n“Nice! And you didn’t even get your cool spaceship underwear dirty!” Trevor said, peaking at the briefs resting between Mark’s legs.\n\n“H-hey!” Mark hunched over to pull his pants up to his knees, making his feet dangle.\n\n“Aww, are your feet hanging off the floor?”\n\n“Yeah, he’s an actual fucking baby!” Butch commented.\n\n“Gee, I didn’t think you were that short.” Trevor said with a hint of endearment.\n\n“I hate today so much…” Mark mumbled to himself, tugging on the roll of toilet paper.\n\n“Don’t worry, I hate you too bro.” Butch said gingerly, casually fiddling with his switchblade.\n\nThere was a knock at the door. “Did I just see three of you go in there?!” The voice from the other side was familiar to Mark and Trevor as the arcade’s beagle manager. \n\nThe aforementioned pair traded nervous looks. “[i]Did either of you lock the doors?[/i]” Mark whispered.\n\n“Nope!” Butch snickered. “Come on in dickhead!”\n\nThe knob turned and Mark’s stomach dropped. The middle-aged beagle stepped in, his confused face immediately turned to shock, seeing Trevor bottomless and mid-wipe, Butch on the sink smiling with two middle aimed in his direction, and Mark, the only person using the plumbing for its intended purpose, huddled down on the toilet as if trying to disappear. The manager’s shocked face quickly turned into anger, and when the smell hit, the most visceral [i]disgust[/i]. He could barely stop gagging enough to yell at them to get out.\n\n“Dammit…” Mark mumbled as he waddled away from the arcade, trying his best to unstick his underwear from his crack. “I didn’t even get to wipe.”\n\n“Sorry about your undies.” Trevor said, with a pat on his back.\n\nButch let out a sigh as he rubbed his tubby gut. The heat from earlier was only now starting to disappear. “Man, I can’t believe Smitty's fucked us up this bad.”\n\n“Yeah it fucked us up [i]real [/i]bad.” Mark spat bitterly. “It even got us banned from the arcade!”\n\n“Only for a month!”\n\n“It doesn’t matter! If you just stayed out of the bathroom and shit your pants, or never even fucking came, this would’ve never happened!”\n\nButch narrowed his eyes, a red tinge growing on his face while a bothered growl resonated in his throat. He held that face, as if contemplating a proper insult, but it quickly faded. “…Sorry.” He looked away.\n\n“[i]Sorry?[/i]” Mark and Trevor both echoed in surprise, pausing in their tracks.\n\n“[i]Auuugh[/i], I thought going to Zellers and Smitty's would be [i]cool[/i], it’s my whole childhood! But this just sucked ass…”\n\n“I thought it kinda blew ass.” Trevor said with a smile, but his friends remained in their mourning silence. “…Get it? ‘Cause we kinda blew out of our butts…with [i]poop[/i].”\n\n“We get it Trevor.” Mark assured him.\n\n“I think that arcade looks dirty as hell and only little kids like it, but it sucks you can’t go back there. And it sucks even more that it’s cause of Smitty's…”\n\n“And because you shat in the sink.”\n\n“That too…sorry.” That last word was barely audible.\n\n“[i]I told you he likes us[/i]…” Trevor whispered in Mark’s ear.\n\n[i]Ugh[/i]. The thought of Butch wanting to be their friend made a shiver go up Mark’s spine. But, he could still recognize and appreciate genuine guilt when he saw it…though he’s still pissed about the arcade. “Well, at least we got the screws from Zellers.”\n\n“Yeah Butch, it didn’t all suck.” Trevor added. “I still like Zellers.”\n\n“Oh yeah, we did get them…cool.” A smile came to Butch’s face. \n\n“I’m never fucking eating there again though.” Mark said bluntly.\n\n“[i]Yeeeeeah[/i] we probably shouldn’t…” Trevor begrudgingly agreed. Butch only sighed, hanging his shoulders, having no proper rebuttal after what they just went through. As the closest thing the group’s ever had to an ‘emotional moment’ with Butch of all people, the silence grew painful pretty fast. “…You guys wanna do something else?”\n\n“Sure.” Butch perked up.\n\n“No…[i]no[/i].” Just hearing that made Mark feel exhausted. “I’m gonna go home, change my underwear, and forget about…[i]everything[/i] from today.”\n\n“Oh yeah…I should change mine too…” Trevor said, picking at the seat of his pants.\n\n“[i]Pffft[/i], pussies.” Butch scoffed. “But uh…y-you guys wanna do something next weekend or whatever?” He asked with a sudden shy shift in tone.\n\n“Sure!” Trevor agreed.\n\n“Uh, I’ll see if I’m busy.” Mark said, needing time to forget…[i]this.[/i] “But…see you at school I guess.”\n\n“Oh alright, u-uh, see you…[i]bitch[/i].”\n\n“Bye Mark, bye Butch!” Trevor said more vibrantly. But of course, they all had to follow the same exit out of the mall, giving them a few more painfully awkward minutes to end their Saturday.\n", "writing_bbcode_parsed": "“Oh my goooooooood dude,” Butch groaned. The bored-out-of-his-mind gator had followed his…friends(?) along to the mall. He thought he had nothing to better do, but he certainly would’ve found something better than spending an hour to pick out a single goddamn screw size. “Just fucking pick one!”

“We gotta make sure we got the right ones!” His chubby beaver companion Trevor chipperly responded as he sorted through packs of fasteners hanging along the aisle. “It’s super annoying when you get the wrong pack and don’t notice till you open it, and then you can’t return ‘em!”

“It’s only like $5, it’s no big deal!”

“You know you can leave whenever you want right?” Grumbled Mark, the equally hefty boar who was squatting to survey the lower racks. Being the more precise of the nerdy pair, he brought his ruler along with their required screw head diameters marked off.

“Butch won’t leave, he likes us too much.” Trevor casually commented.

“Pfffffft,” Butch scoffed, a red tinge growing on his cheeks. “I only came here for the food court…and ‘cause my dad’s hogging the TV at home.”

“See Mark? He thinks we’re more fun than his dad’s shows!”

“Woo-hoo.” Mark ‘cheered’ flatly.

Butch groaned, appalled at the notion he likes these freaks, but even more appalled that they’re not leaving yet. As Mark squatted just before him, he couldn’t help but notice a generous length of buttcrack creeping above the waistband of his red shorts, gross. Butch also noticed the pack of mini ball-bearings to his right, the tiny steel spheres looked small enough to fit through the slightest crevice…Butch decided to do something amazing.

Mark squinted back and forth between the lines on the ruler and the numbers on the packaging. The model plane he and Trevor were building together (a 1:76 scale of the TU-144) needed just a few more screws before it could officially be called complete. As he rose the ruler to yet another pack, his eyes lit up. 1.50 mm, he found one of the sizes! “Hey Tre-waaaaaah!” The strange sensation of tiny, cold beads of metal invading the spaces of his rump sent a shiver up his spine. He shot up to his feet, his scruffy pig tail slamming down and his butt clenched hard enough to arch his back. “Oh my god, oh my god!”

“Mark what happened?!” Trevor rushed over and wrapped an arm around his side. “Is it another…bathroom situation?” He badly whispered the end of that question.

“No, it’s not that!” He rasped, his face blazing red. Behind them Butch cackled, Mark noticed the half empty pack of bearings rattling away in his grip. “Did you pour that down my asscrack?!”

“Yeah! Keep your pants up next time, fatass!” Butch ‘advised’ in between guffaws.

“Butch?! Why would you do that?!” An innocently aghast Trevor exclaimed as if questioning the heavens.

Mark narrowed his eyes, his hand instinctively tightening into a fist. He didn’t like Butch, he didn’t like him those years ago when he used to be their bully, and he still doesn’t like him in whatever ‘friendship’ this was, that frankly didn’t feel much different.

“Cause you guys are taking so damn- ough!” Butch was interrupted by Mark’s furious fist to his pudgy stomach, crumpling immediately.

“Mark?!” Trevor’s disbelief was turned to his other friend.

“Didn’t you see what he just did?!” Mark flustered as more beads came unlogged through his rump.

“Augh…” Butch slowly unfurled himself, peering up at Mark with fire in his eyes.

The angry, violent, red that plastered the boar’s face just moments ago seems to have faded away into a pale white. “Uh, But-”

 “You little, bitch!” Butch swung a fist that Mark dodged, but that arm swung back around lower, taking Mark to the floor.

“Butch noooooo, he bruises easily!” Trevor jumped into the fray in a vain attempt to pull them apart.

“Let go of me, dickhead!” The trio scuffled around on the floor for a short while before the stern tiger manager promptly kicked them out. It was officially a draw…plus some bite marks on Mark’s shoulder.

“C’mon Mark, it was just a joke!” Trevor pleaded with his boar friend who was headed promptly to the mall's exit. Butch nonchalantly trailed behind at his own pace.

“I didn’t think it was funny!” Mark snapped back, his brisk pace unfazed.

“He said he was sorry!”

“No he didn’t!”

“No I didn’t.” Butch confirmed himself.

“Well…you got a good punch on him!” Trevor presented it as an equalizer.

“Yeah, you’re stronger than you look…little bitch.” Butch said with a rub to his still aching midsection.

“He deserved it!” Mark huffed. “‘Cause of that asshole we can’t get the screws we need!”

Butch rolled his eyes, only the biggest nerds would care this much about some screws. “Look dickheads, I got your stupid screws…” He pulled the 1.50 mm pack out of the pocket of his camo shorts and presented it with an aloof limp hand.

Trevor’s eyes lit up. “Alright! See Mark, he likes us!”

Mark was unimpressed. “You know he stole those right?”

“Nah, I borrowed it.” Butch answered, barely hiding a smirk.

“Uh…you’re gonna pay for those later, right?” The ever-innocent Trevor asked.

“Yeah dude sure.”

“No he’s not!” Mark spat.

“Well do you wanna take ‘em back and piss off the manager some more?” Butch took great satisfaction in watching Mark’s eyes nervously quiver at the thought.

“…No.”

“Heh, pussy.”

“But we still need the other size! And that’s the only store here that sells tool stuff!”

“Nu-uh, there’s one more!” Trevor announced, and then paused for suspense with a giddy bucktooth smile. “Zellers!”

“Zellers?”

“There’s a Zellers here?!” Butch perked with excitement, his voice reaching a tone that could possibly be called whimsical.

“What the fuck? I’ve never seen you happy before.” Mark didn’t like how unnerving happiness looked on Butch’s sharp toothed maw.  

“Aww dude, my dad and I used to eat at Zellers all the time! I didn’t know they had one here!”

“What’s so special about them? They all kinda look like shit.”

“Fuck you! Zellers is a store for real men who grew up in the sticks! Pussies like you wouldn’t get it.”

“Yeah Mark, everyone loves Zellers!” Trevor wrapped his arms around both of their shoulders, happy for the uneasy harmony. “You gotta try one of Smitty's burgers before they all close forever.”

“Smitty's? I thought you wanted to go to Zellers.” Mark felt Trevor pulling them back towards the center of the mall. Looks like his day’s not over yet.

“We are going to Zellers!”

“Where they have…Smitty's burgers?”

“Yeah!”

“…What?”

“Shut up nerd, you’re gonna learn!” Butch said, an excited grin on his face as they made their way to the magical place.

* * *

At first glance, Zellers didn’t seem that special. The aisles were lined with a variety of low-cost gadgets, body care, and canned food, much like any other run of the mill bargain store. At a closer glance, it still didn’t seem that special. The only aspects that stood out to Mark were the underlying red and yellow colors themes, and the tacky 70s looking action signage that screamed its sales at him. “So…what’s so cool about this place?”

“It’s the vibes man, the vibes!” Replied Butch, practically frolicking through the aisles ahead of them.

“It reminds me of shopping with my mom and dad…” Trevor said poetically while touching the cardboard cutout of the bear mascot.

“But you can…still do that? And at better stores?” Mark clearly didn’t feel the nostalgia.

“It’s different now!”

“You don’t get it Mark!” Butch defensively spat. “Your parents probably went to some fancy rich stores like J-Mart, or Bullseye!”

“Woah, you just called Mark his name instead of a little bitch! I knew you liked us!”

“I just don’t have a Zellers near my house. But it seems like any other store but…grosser.” The last word pitched up like a question as Mark tried to find a descriptor for the cheap, artificial feeling environment.

“Sorry Mar-, uh, bitch that they don’t sell fancy caviar, or quinoa here.” Butch commented with a hint of genuine bitterness in his voice.

“You were gonna say ‘Mark,’ I heard it!” Trevor pointed out with an excited flap of his beaver tail.

“Shut up dickhead!”

“Also what’s a ‘quinoa?’”

Mark sighed, what are they even doing here? “Are we gonna look for the screws?”

“God, you’re still on the stupid screws?” Butch groaned. “Can we eat at Smitty's first? I’m starving!”

“Yeah Mark, I haven’t eaten since this morning.” Trevor added.

“It’s 11.” The exasperated boar replied.

“That’s still a long time! We’ll look for the screws after, Butch promises not to pull a prank again.”

“No he didn’t.”

“No I didn’t.” Butch echoed. “I but swear I probably won’t fuck with you if we go to Smitty's now.”

Mark sighed for the second time in under a minute, but he couldn’t help but gain some interest whenever food was involved. “Fine…this better be good.”

“It will be!” Trevor assured.

The group headed to the back of the store, where it wasn’t actually a ‘back’ but an attached ‘Smitty's’ restaurant. It was as if someone carved a rectangular section out of the rear wall and glued a strangely subdued restaurant in its place. Its seats and benches were cushioned with faux leather, lamp-shaded lights hung from a ceiling plastered with mildly elegant square tiles, while all the hard surfaces were made to look like wood and marble. It was a contrast from the very typical fast-food choices on the menu hanging above the cashier table, and the exposed gray metals of the kitchen behind it. “What is this place?” Mark asked out loud to himself.

“Smitty's!” Trevor answered with a mystical whispered gusto.

“The most underrated restaurant in the world.” Answered Butch as if an action movie narrator. “What are you getting dickhead?” He asked Trevor.

“Ummm…a bacon cheeseburger, a milkshake, aaaaaand…poutine with extra gravy!”

“Fucking nice, I’m surprised someone so dumb has good taste.”

“It’s ‘cause my belly’s bigger than my brain.”

Butch turned to Mark. “You gonna eat here or are you too good for this?” He asked, a mocking aristocrat inflection in his voice.

“Fuck you.” Mark mumbled, already squinting at the menu through his glasses. “I’m gonna get…I dunno, I guess a cheeseburger?”

“That's it? Weak.”

“I’m trying this place for the first time, get off my back!”

The food wasn’t that bad to Mark. He didn’t see it as worthy of the gushing, borderline sensual praise being spouted by his companions, but it was flavorful and satisfying as proper fast-food should be. The group used that energy boost to fuel some more dramatic screw scavenging. Or at least Trevor and Mark did.

“Oh my goooooooood dude,” Butch groaned. He was back to aimlessly waiting on two nerds. “How are we doing this again?!”

“Well someone got us kicked out the last store before we could find the other screws.” Mark sneered over his shoulder. Surprisingly, Zellers had a larger and cheaper selection of screws than the mini tool shop. Maybe this place isn’t so bad…not that he’d admit it.

“W-well,” Butch’s eyes shifted but his grumpy expression was unfazed. “You could look faster dammit!”

“Are you gonna help us look Butch?” Trevor asked, scouring the other side of the aisle.

“Hell no, I don’t care about some stupid plane.”

“You know, for someone who calls Mark a little bitch, you're sounding pretty bitchy right now.”

Trevor said that insult with such nonchalance, and without even looking away from a screw package, as if to call Butch insignificant. “Fuck you! Just, just…l-look for your stupid screws!”

Mark chuckled hearing that fluster in his voice. Having checked all the screw packs at eye level, he lowered into a squat to check the ones at the bottom. But just as he did, he felt a light pressure from lunch shift lower in his belly. His breath hitched, it moved fast. Within a second, it raced towards his thick parted rump cheeks and his hole twitched in anticipation. Before he could clench, his tail rose and the pressure burst out from his anus.

FRRRRPT- “Ah crap.” Mark smacked a hand into his split crack, muffling the end of that greasy puff.

“O-oh f-fuck.” Butch sputtered before spilling into a hearty laugh.

“Sorry…” Mark mumbled, fanning the air behind him.

“Uh-oh, are you having a…bathroom situation?” Trevor leaned down into his ear to ask.

“No!” Mark stood up, pink blazing his face. Truth be told, he felt just a little warm bubble in his stomach, but it was nothing akin to his usual IBS flare ups…at least not yet.

“Good! I was hoping Smitty's didn’t mess with your stomach. Cause it’s kinda giving me a tummyache…” Trevor gave his belly a few rubs through his red shirt, but then his nose twitched. “…I’m gonna look at the screws over there.” He said, inching over to fresher air.

“Understandable…”

“Pfffft.” Butch scoffed. “You’re both pussies, Smitty's is supposed to pack a punch.” A mischievous smile on his face, the gator lifted a leg and pushed out a great sputtering PRRRRPTPTPT. Though, his smile soon faded as his gas came to a spicier and more moist ending than he was expecting.

“How’s that ‘punch’ feeling asshole?” Mark asked.

“J-just fine. Hurry and find those damn screws.” Butch crossed his scaly arms, his eyebrow twitching.

“You could help us!”

Butch twisted his lip as he thought it over. The deepened desire to get out of here fought with his petty refusal to help…the former won him over. “What size do you need?” He asked, another plume of heat rising in his stomach.

“0.90 mm diameter.”

“Dia-what?”

“It’s how wide the head part is.”

“Oh.”

“Duh.”

“Suck my dick, bitch!”

“Ugh…” Trevor held his stomach, bent over at the end of the aisle, battling the hot ache in his stomach, and the gentle pressure in butt. Partially numbed by the heat in his belly, that gas slipped out with an ultra-greasy pop. “Sorry, don’t come look over here, I farted.”

“Fucking gross dude.” Butch took his advice and headed to the opposite end of the aisle. He squinted at the various screw packages…1.10 mm, 0.8 mm, 1.2 mm…this task already sucks. Whatever stupid plane they’re trying to build isn’t worth this.  “Ugh…” Another hot twinge from his ailing stomach. What the hell? Smitty's never had this effect on him. He’s not turning into a pussy is he?!

“Mmmfh…” Mark softly groaned. In his squatting position gentle farts easily buzzed and from his spread hole. Prrrrft… “Nngn.” Ooh, a particularly warm and moist puff made him shiver. Yet all that gas provided no relief from the fire in his belly. Dammit, he should’ve known better than to eat some new greasy food with his sensitive stomach. Maybe they could put a pause to their search.

Mark rose back to his feet, shifting the contents of his stomach and prompting an ominous gurgle. “Um, did you guys find the size yet?” He asked, a hand on his belly.

“Nah.” Butch answered, having already given up and fiddled with his switchblade.

“Oh yeah I did.” Trevor said, the 0.90 mm pack in his hand while he continued to survey the other packs.

“Wha- why didn’t you say anything?” The growing situation put some exasperation in Mark’s voice.

“Yeah dickhead, I’ve been holding in a dump for like 5 whole minutes!” Butch barked.

“So Smitty's fucked you up too huh?”

“Naaaah I always shit quick after eating, you’re just a pussy.” Butch stiffened against a moan from his belly.

“I was hoping one of you would find better ones…” Trevor held up his pack of screws. “Look, they have this orange coating thing, it’s gonna look weird on the model.”

Mark’s exasperation shifted to a nerdy concern. “Ah man…” He imagined their beautiful TU-144, with random bright orange spots in its otherwise impeccable vintage Aeroflot paint scheme. “I guess we could paint over it, but it might look sloppy…”

“Oh my fucking god, who caaaaares?!” Butch wailed like an impatient cub ready to leave the supermarket.

“Me.” Trevor answered genuinely while Mark narrowed his eyes. “But my stomach hurts like crazy, you wanna just try and paint it over?”

Mark didn’t want to risk ruining their model, and also wanted to spite Butch with a longer wait. But as his stomach churned, he knew it was only a matter of time. “…Fine.”

“While you dickheads pay for that I’m gonna go shit.” Butch so gracefully announced as he walked off to the bathroom.

“Save me some toilet paper!” Trevor said.

“And me…” Mark mumbled under his breath. The short walk to the cashier was a blessing in disguise, letting him air out silent poots in between uneasy steps. But the moment they came to a stop in line, those cramps rebloomed with a fiery vengeance.

“Hey Mark, you Ok?” Trevor asked in a low voice. There were only 3 other furs, he too hoped for a quick check out.

“Yeah,” He answered, instinctively clenching. “Why?”

“Because your butt’s getting all clenchy like it usually does during your uh, situations.”

“Don’t look at my butt!” Mark snapped, turning pink. Ironically the attention only made him clench more.

“I’m just making sure! I think for the first time ever…Smitty's might’ve given us bad food.” He said, rubbing his stomach.

“I knew it, ugh.” Mark hunched at another piercing cramp.

“Hey dickheads.” Butch sauntered over, hands in his pockets.

“That was quick.” Thank god, Mark thought to himself. He can go next.

“Maybe ‘cause his butthole’s extra wide.” Trevor suggested with a smile.

Both boys stared back at him with a mix of confusion and horror. “God you’re fucking weird…” Butch shook his head. “Their bathroom’s broken. This is the first time Zellers ever let me down.”

“Dammit.” Mark remarked. Those cramps won’t let up.

“It’s alright, there’s a ton in the mall.” Trevor pat shoulder. “And Butch likes us so much, he’s waiting so we can go together!”

Butch’s mean-mug broke into a surprised, wide-eyed blush. “D-don’t be fucking weird, I just don’t want you losers to get lost.”

“Awww he doesn’t wanna lose us Mark!”

“I want him to lose us…” Mark grumbled.

The line moved, and the screws were paid for (this time) rather quickly, yet it was growing difficult to standstill even for a moment. It gave the group an early sense of relief to finally step out into the stale air of the mall corridor.

“Goddammit,” Butch held his stomach as they walked. The fire was getting intense, he could feel his ring twitch for an eager relief. “The fuck did I eat?”

“Smitty's!” Mark rasped stiltedly as he clenched his rump. “Your favorite restaurant gave us shitty food!”

Butch snorted. “The fuck’s wrong with you?” He chuckled at Mark’s awkward gate. “No way Smitty's making you walk like that.”

“Uh, Butch I think Mark’s right.” Trevor conceded with a hint of disappointment. “I love Smitty's too, but all our stomachs started hurting after we ate their. Ooh…” Trevor’s speed walk faltered, and that pressure in his rump plaaaaped out. “Sorry, I farted again.”

“You don’t have to tell us every time!” Butch shouted.

“It’s ‘cause I know Mark doesn’t like farts like you do.”

“I don’t fucking like them!”

“Then how come you fart out loud so much?”

“That’s different!” Seeing the beautiful opportunity, he pushed for a bout of gas midstride. BRRURP! “Oh fuck.” A heavy, hot, bitter pressure immediately pressed on Butch’s exit. Suddenly his walk went crooked too.

“Ha!” Mark teased.

The group made it to the food court, the magical place that produced endless varieties of food, and the convenient quarters to release it. They hightailed it to the bathrooms tucked away in the back. “Augh,” Trevor panted. “I can feel my butthole getting looser.”

“Why do you say shit like this?” Butch grumbled at him.

“Shit!” Mark aptly exclaimed. The mens’ bathroom door had a ‘closed for cleaning’ sign hanging from it.

“Like that’s gonna stop me!” Butch brushed past the squirming Mark and smacked his hand on the door. But instead of a dramatic brutish entrance, it didn’t even budge. “What the fuck? Since when do they lock these things?!” He banged on the door. “Heeeeeey! Let us in asshole!”

“Chill before they kick us out of the whole mall!” Mark snapped, putting some of that urgent energy to use by yanking back Butch’s arm.

“F-fuck,” Butch was in no condition to fight back. He had to clench his rump against a razor-sharp cramp. “So now what the fuck do we do?!”

“Ooooh!” Trevor perked up. “I know a bathroom in here that never closes for cleaning!”

“Ew…but where is it?” Mark begrudgingly asked. Desperate times call for desperate measures.

“Follow me! -Augh, wait, wait!” Trevor took one step and immediately had to lean against the wall from his own cramp attack. “Hnnnn…” He strained, a fiery pressure shoved hard at his exit. A slick stream air plapped through his hole, feeling like hot bubbling lava. “Augh, sorry, I fa-”

“We know! Just take us to the damn bathroom!”

“P-please.” Mark echoed. The urges were rising fast in his sensitive stomach.

“Ok, Ok!”

The group set course for the complete opposite end of the mall, hobbling and clenching as fast as their raging guts would let them. “Ah dude,” Butch groaned, his hands pressing into his chubby stomach and butt. “If I shit myself, I’m throwing my underwear in your face.” He grunted as another silent fart hissed out, flooding his palm with the grossest, sloppy warmth.

“Hold on, we’re almost there!” Trevor encouraged.

“I-I’m trying!” Mark strained, walking with his shoulders tensed. Those familiar IBS hallmarks of cramping, squeezing, burning, ungraciously played out in his colon. That pressure felt all too ready to slip out on one unfocused step.

They continued down an emptier leg of the mall, the halls lined with vacant store spaces and shabby looking specialty shops. Equally shabby and nestled by a little trafficked entrance was their destination: “The arcade?!” Butch shouted out, aghast. The arcade indeed. Neon-yellow 8-bit letters on the signage above announced Arcade with an anti-climatic zeal. Neither the flashy insides nor plain outside looked to have much activity. “Did you just want to play fucking games?!”

“No, no, there’s a bathroom inside!” Trevor paused to open the door.

“Oh no…” Mark said to himself, he remembered the bathroom from past trips there with Trevor. “But Trevor, there’s only one toilet!”

“What?!” Butch’s tone reached a new enraged height.

“We’ll take turns or something, agh.” Trevor clenched as he slowly raised a knee. “Come on, my butthole gets all twitchy when I stand still!”

Feeling a similar sentiment, Mark rushed in without question. Butch followed suit, cradling his stomach. “I hate both of you so much…” He mumbled.

“Nah, you love us.” Trevor quipped just as he stepped in.

Mark scurried past all the brightly colored games he and Trevor normally spent hours competing over. They were mere rainbow blurs in the corner of his eyes, the roaring fire in his stomach was the only thing he could register. “Aw crap, aw crap…” He muttered to himself, the bathroom door at the very back of the arcade was in view and his body knew he was close. All those stabs in his lower belly turned his speed walk into a painful limp. He squeezed his chunky cheeks together with all his might, it was the only thing keeping his twitching, desperate anus from opening too soon. “Aaaaugh, crap…” He couldn’t tell if the liquids seeping down his crack was sweat or his daily dose of diarrhea, but dammit, he’s right here! He’s gonna make it! His hand’s on the doorknob!

He threw the door open and was greeted by the familiar musty little bathroom, worthy of a rundown gas station. Complete with a beige trimmed plastic toilet seat, urinal, and a sink low enough for the Arcade’s small cub patrons. “O-oh my god.” Mark froze cross-legged at the door frame. His excited sphincter pushed so hard, so early. “Mmnng…” He strained, tiptoeing inside like he was balancing on a wire and letting the door slam behind him. He took those last few painful steps to the toilet and twisted himself around, incapable of standing up straight. His hands quivered as he tucked his thumbs into his waistband. “A-agh, augh…” He let out breathy groans, something in his colon shifted and he felt a liquid bubbling out of his squished hole. The dam was broken.

 He tugged on his shorts and underwear, practically peeling them out of his deep crack, pulling them as far down as he could before his blazing guts stopped him from bending any further. He grit his teeth, half of his wide pinkish-tan backside was exposed, enough to hear the squelching of warm liquids pushing into his crevice. Oh god, he needs to be quick…he took a breath, and in one quick move yanked his bottom wear down and slammed his thick rump onto the seat with a jiggle.

SSSSSSSSHHHHHHHSPLOOOT!

“A-aah!” All that pressure, all that heat, burst through his cheeks in a warm liquid spray, before his trapped gasses exploded. “Oh m-my god.” Mark’s legs quivered. Everything happened so fast, it left his dripping anus tingling and twitching. And he wasn’t done yet. The most urgent of his cramps were gone, but blaze in his stomach and the pushes on his hole remained.

“Ung…” He sighed and let himself fully relax onto the seat, his soft, ample cheeks squashing around the plastic. Not the most comfortable place, but with an IBS attack any toilet is a throne. Mark took a breath, and gave his sphincter a squeeze…

“Augh!” The door swung open and Butch stumbled in, hunched over and holding his angry stomach.

“What the hell?!” Mark stretched his green shirt over his crotch. “G-get out!”

“Shut up, I gotta shit!” Butch made a beeline for the sink. The delinquent gator had used far worse and far more taboo for a toilet before, this would more than make do. “Fuck, fuck…” His feet danced before the sink as he fiddled with his zipper. He could feel the strength in his sphincter waning. “Fuuuuuck!” The zipper went down, he threw camo shorts and boxers to the floor and lowered his oversized rump onto the lip of the sink.

FRRRRPT…Frrrrpt…FrrrrrRRRRRRRPT! A constant stream of farts blasted out wet chunks of scat so soft Butch could barely register them. Each one smacked into the bottom of the sink with a hollow thud. After so long of denying the urgent pushes, it felt incredible to finally let all that air slap out of his hole. His awkward perch on the hard edge of the sink helped spread his pudgy rump, making that waste slip through ultra smooth. “Awww, fuck dude…” Butch sighed, a shameless smile plastered across his face. His ring was left with a nice warm feeling.

“Jesus!” Mark covered his nose. From his angle, he got a horrifyingly good view of Butch’s plush cheeks pressed against the sink ledge.

“Shut up, it smelled like ass before I got in here.” Butch held on to the sides of the sink and scooched his butt further over the open basin, the full curve of his massive jiggling rear hanging over the now blocked drain. “Hnnnng!” He crunched down and pushed, a more solid log begun to give his hole a proper crown. It gave him a gentle stretch but was moist enough to speedily slip through him with a greasy squeak. “Auuugh yeeeeaah…” Butch groaned, that little anal work out made him shiver.

“Holy fuck.” Mark mumbled, that was a brutal assault on his eyes, nose, and ears. And most painfully, his envious stomach too. “Can you get out now?!” A sharp twinge made his messy hole pucker.

“Hell no, I take my time when I dump. You should’ve locked the door little bitch.” Butch lifted his butt off the sink to tuck his uncut length between his thighs. A stream of urine splattered into the basin, partnered with an echoing airy BRRRAAAP! “Ahhh…Hey…dude, can your feet not touch the floor?!” Butch snickered.

“F-fuck you, stop looking at me you freak!” Mark somehow turned redder, his feet dangling inches off the floor as the urgency made his chunky thighs shiver.

“Um, guys,” Trevor peeked his head through the door, a sign of strain on his face. “You almost done yet?”

“N-no.” Mark mumbled. He winced, clenching on the seat as a slick poot slipped out of him.

“Nope.” Butch remarked casually as his pee splashed away. “The urinal’s open dickhead.” He offered with a sadistic smirk.

“Ok!” Trevor didn’t even blink. He jogged in, hands already lowering the waistband of his sweatpants and exposing half of his bouncing cheeks.

“You’re fucking weird…” Butch mumbled, never an ounce of discomfort from the damn beaver.

A constant stream of wet poots leaked out of Trevor for that short trek across the bathroom. “Sorry, sorry,” That unbearable pressure was quite literally bubbling out of him. “Ah, my butthole’s leaking!” He spun around before the urinal, those poots were seasoned with a goopy muddy feeling put-putting out of his hole. He yanked his pants to the ground, bent over, leaned back to press the top of his crack firmly against the urinal porcelain, and finally gave his bowels the push they were begging for. “Hmmmfh!”

A new hurried wave of waste bulged his hole open and burst through with a gassy flarp that splattered on the urinal's surface. A thick stream of soft grainy scat flowed from his hole, the subtle textures filed the room an oily crackling sound and felt so satisfying slithering through Trevor’s inner walls. The stream went on for a good 5 seconds, before slowing to a series of popping farts. “Augh!” Trevor let off his sphincter with a groaning exhale, his messy anus twitching. “Oh my god, hnnnnng…” He gave another push, his plump glutes squashing and shivering against the porcelain as more fetid air sputtered and opened up his backside. Each bubble rippling out of his hole with the most bittersweet, relieving slap, and reverberating against the surface of the urinal. “Hmmph…” Trevor gave one more push, his ring straining and dipping for any remaining waste. A small dollop of scat fell out of his winking hole, along with some final tiny toots. “Auuuuugh…that felt sooooo good…” He sighed, rubbing his stomach. All the searing pains in his stomach were extinguished with that movement, leaving just a subtle ache and nice satisfying buzz.

“Holy shit!” Butch laughed. “We fucked this bathroom up!”

“Hehehe…‘shit.’” Trevor leaned up off the urinal and stretched, his uncut 2-incher shamelessly thrusted forward, and his shirt riding up his chubby belly.

“Fuck dude,” Butch looked away, a shade of pink forming across his snout. “Put your pants back on!”

“I gotta wipe my butt first.” He waddled over to the toilet, his exposed hefty rump jiggling. “How’s your stomach feeling Mark?” He asked, bending over in front of his friend to tear off some sheets of toilet paper.

“B-bad!” Mark sputtered. He was too busy fighting to keep his insides at bay to be appalled by the view of Trevor’s sizable buttcheeks in his face.

“Aww jeez, Smitty's really got you bad.” Trevor said, casually balling up a length of paper.

“Heh, pussy.” Butch jeered.

“Shut up, your shitty restaurant got you too!” Mark snapped at the gator. “It’s ‘cause I can’t go until you guys get out!”

“Why not? We went in front of you, and we didn’t even use a toilet.” Trevor gripped one of his fatty cheeks, his hand sinking his cushy flesh, and pulled it to the side, exposing his messy ring. He took a long slow swipe up the center of his crevice. “Eugh, it’s so slimy…”

“Yeah pussy, you got the easy seat.” Butch quipped to the shuddering boar.

“Butch and I once even pooped outside while our butts were touching, this isn’t so bad compared to that.”

“Shut the fuck up, you touched your ass against mine!”

“You liked it though.”

“Nu-uh!”

“W-what? Ooh…” Mark hunkered down, holding his belly. Another cramp tore through his stomach and made his hole pucker. “F-fuck…”

“Go ahead Mark, push it out!” Trevor encouraged. “And open your legs after so I can throw this gross paper away.”

“Oh my god…” Mark couldn’t hold it back. He was helpless but to cringe as that pressure forced itself through his hole. “Auuuugh…” That first partially solid nugget gave his anus the slightest stretch before it flew out of him, propelled by explosive bottled-up gas. The air flow was interrupted just as quickly as it started by a bubbly sputtering brown liquid, the consistency of thick gravy. “Ung…” He moaned as that pressure let off with an ugly gassy fwarp. Butch cackled from his perch on the sink, as if he too didn’t just blow his guts out. Mark rolled his eyes and gave his sphincter another push. A whiny, tired sounding, duck-like fart puttered out of his equally tired hole. “Ah…” He sighed, his ring giving a few weak flexes. He sunk back onto the seat, going limp with relief. “O-oh god…”

“That was hilarious!” Butch fell into laughter again.

“See, doesn’t that feel better?” Trevor asked, a genuine smile on his face knowing his friend found relief.

“Y-yeah…” A flustered Mark looked away. As with his usual stomach attacks, the movement made the harshest of his pains disappear, the more manageable burn left behind would go away soon too.

“Nice! And you didn’t even get your cool spaceship underwear dirty!” Trevor said, peaking at the briefs resting between Mark’s legs.

“H-hey!” Mark hunched over to pull his pants up to his knees, making his feet dangle.

“Aww, are your feet hanging off the floor?”

“Yeah, he’s an actual fucking baby!” Butch commented.

“Gee, I didn’t think you were that short.” Trevor said with a hint of endearment.

“I hate today so much…” Mark mumbled to himself, tugging on the roll of toilet paper.

“Don’t worry, I hate you too bro.” Butch said gingerly, casually fiddling with his switchblade.

There was a knock at the door. “Did I just see three of you go in there?!” The voice from the other side was familiar to Mark and Trevor as the arcade’s beagle manager.

The aforementioned pair traded nervous looks. “Did either of you lock the doors?” Mark whispered.

“Nope!” Butch snickered. “Come on in dickhead!”

The knob turned and Mark’s stomach dropped. The middle-aged beagle stepped in, his confused face immediately turned to shock, seeing Trevor bottomless and mid-wipe, Butch on the sink smiling with two middle aimed in his direction, and Mark, the only person using the plumbing for its intended purpose, huddled down on the toilet as if trying to disappear. The manager’s shocked face quickly turned into anger, and when the smell hit, the most visceral disgust. He could barely stop gagging enough to yell at them to get out.

“Dammit…” Mark mumbled as he waddled away from the arcade, trying his best to unstick his underwear from his crack. “I didn’t even get to wipe.”

“Sorry about your undies.” Trevor said, with a pat on his back.

Butch let out a sigh as he rubbed his tubby gut. The heat from earlier was only now starting to disappear. “Man, I can’t believe Smitty's fucked us up this bad.”

“Yeah it fucked us up real bad.” Mark spat bitterly. “It even got us banned from the arcade!”

“Only for a month!”

“It doesn’t matter! If you just stayed out of the bathroom and shit your pants, or never even fucking came, this would’ve never happened!”

Butch narrowed his eyes, a red tinge growing on his face while a bothered growl resonated in his throat. He held that face, as if contemplating a proper insult, but it quickly faded. “…Sorry.” He looked away.

“Sorry?” Mark and Trevor both echoed in surprise, pausing in their tracks.

“Auuugh, I thought going to Zellers and Smitty's would be cool, it’s my whole childhood! But this just sucked ass…”

“I thought it kinda blew ass.” Trevor said with a smile, but his friends remained in their mourning silence. “…Get it? ‘Cause we kinda blew out of our butts…with poop.”

“We get it Trevor.” Mark assured him.

“I think that arcade looks dirty as hell and only little kids like it, but it sucks you can’t go back there. And it sucks even more that it’s cause of Smitty's…”

“And because you shat in the sink.”

“That too…sorry.” That last word was barely audible.

“I told you he likes us…” Trevor whispered in Mark’s ear.

Ugh. The thought of Butch wanting to be their friend made a shiver go up Mark’s spine. But, he could still recognize and appreciate genuine guilt when he saw it…though he’s still pissed about the arcade. “Well, at least we got the screws from Zellers.”

“Yeah Butch, it didn’t all suck.” Trevor added. “I still like Zellers.”

“Oh yeah, we did get them…cool.” A smile came to Butch’s face.

“I’m never fucking eating there again though.” Mark said bluntly.

“Yeeeeeah we probably shouldn’t…” Trevor begrudgingly agreed. Butch only sighed, hanging his shoulders, having no proper rebuttal after what they just went through. As the closest thing the group’s ever had to an ‘emotional moment’ with Butch of all people, the silence grew painful pretty fast. “…You guys wanna do something else?”

“Sure.” Butch perked up.

“No…no.” Just hearing that made Mark feel exhausted. “I’m gonna go home, change my underwear, and forget about…everything from today.”

“Oh yeah…I should change mine too…” Trevor said, picking at the seat of his pants.

“Pffft, pussies.” Butch scoffed. “But uh…y-you guys wanna do something next weekend or whatever?” He asked with a sudden shy shift in tone.

“Sure!” Trevor agreed.

“Uh, I’ll see if I’m busy.” Mark said, needing time to forget…this. “But…see you at school I guess.”

“Oh alright, u-uh, see you…bitch.”

“Bye Mark, bye Butch!” Trevor said more vibrantly. But of course, they all had to follow the same exit out of the mall, giving them a few more painfully awkward minutes to end their Saturday.
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