"Of course, of course, it's a treat! The stocks I invested in just skyrocketed, and it's only a matter of time before I'm a literal millionaire."
Brent boasted, waving one hand around as if he were swatting away imaginary fans, while the other continued to caress Layla's back. His confidence radiated like a peacock strutting with its feathers out, oblivious to the chaos brewing just out of sight.
Brent's audience was not just Layla but also her younger sister Kayla, who was only a year younger and currently munching on sweets like she was in a commercial for happiness.
She seemed blissfully unaware of the emotional tornado spinning in the house, focused instead on her chocolate croissant.
"Munch~ munch~ do you guys smell that? Or is it just me... There's a foul smell, like something dead and rotten," Kayla remarked, scrunching her nose as if trying to block out the scent of Axel's and Kris's misadventures wafting from upstairs.
"Must be from the rain, Kayla."
Layla replied, looking at Brent with the kind of adoring gaze you'd expect from a romantic lead in a cheesy movie. With his striking blond hair and blue eyes, Brent looked like he'd stepped straight out of central casting for "Charming Prince."
It was a scene so sickeningly sweet that Axel half-expected someone to burst into a Disney song about dreams and true love.
'Man, they're playing Kayla like a fiddle, and she doesn't even know the guy blasting nuclear farts in their bathroom is the real boyfriend of her sister,' Axel thought, recalling a conversation with Kris.
Apparently, Layla hadn't mentioned Kris to her parents or sister, keeping him a secret like some kind of underground boyfriend operation. To her family, she was still a pristine, unattached maiden. When Axel asked Kris why, he said Layla's parents were too strict and would never approve of a boyfriend.
'That sneaky little witch!'
Axel fumed silently. Just then, a noise erupted from the bathroom that sounded like Satan's own brass band tuning up, echoing through the house like a demonic war cry.
"Areggggggghhhh!"
Kris's voice boomed, accompanied by a crackle and roll of thunder that made it seem like the apocalypse was upon them. The combination of the two sounds was so intense that Axel half-expected the walls to start bleeding.
Axel shook his head, cursing his friend for the umpteenth time and looked back at the scene downstairs. Layla was clinging to Brent like he was the last life vest on a sinking ship, visibly shivering.
'She really is scared of thunder. Well, at least she wasn't lying about that.'
Axel thought with a smirk, his teeth gnashing together as he watched the trio like a lion sizing up a zebra buffet. But just as he was getting into his role as the avenging angel, something unexpected happened.
One of the prey spotted him while she was snuggling up to the other, and her eyes widened, her jaw dropping like a cartoon character who just saw a ghost.
For a moment, the hunter who had inhaled toxic gas and the startled prey locked eyes, a silent conversation passing between them.
A small flash of lightning illuminated the upper floor, casting an eerie glow over Axel's bewildered face.
Not wanting to make a scene, Axel quickly put a finger to his lips in a universal gesture for "shh," then gestured for her to keep quiet.
He beckoned her with all the urgency of a mime trapped in a glass box before crouch-walking away like a stealthy walrus—or perhaps more like Kris in the bathroom, wrestling with his own internal demons.
Axel knew if he lingered even a second longer, she'd probably start asking questions, and the last thing he needed was for the other two to catch wind of his presence.
So, he just waved her over and ducked out of sight like a ninja who desperately needed a bath.
...
Meanwhile, a few meters away in a small and somewhat grimy bathroom, someone was fighting a losing battle against his inner demons.
Kris, the unfortunate fatty, was waging a war against the forces of evil within him, perched on a toilet that looked like it had seen better days. He was pushing with all his might, trying to exorcise the demon through his "exit portal," but no matter how much he shouted and groaned, the demon refused to budge even a millimeter.
It was as if the demon was too large to fit through the tiny escape hatch, leaving Kris in a very uncomfortable stalemate.
'Dammit, is this what it feels like to do anal?'
Kris was having a hell of a time in the bathroom, wrestling with a pain in his asshole that felt like it was on fire. It was the kind of pain he'd never experienced before, a bizarre mix of sensations that had him questioning every life choice he'd ever made.
His bowel movements were like a box of fucked-up chocolates—sometimes a slimy mess, sometimes hard as a rock, each one a unique brand of torture for his poor asshole.
'Never give up, never back down,' Kris told himself, his chubby cheeks jiggling with newfound determination.
He closed his eyes, trying to block out the hellish stink that was more demonic than the bathroom itself, and imagined a peaceful, flowery field at sunset. With a grunt that could rival a sumo wrestler's, he planted one foot firmly on the floor, his fat rolls quivering like Jell-O on a trampoline.
Thum~
The sound echoed through the bathroom like a dinosaur stomping around, and Kris was pretty sure if he looked down, he'd see his poop jiggling along with his gut. But he refrained; he had a mission to accomplish.
He took another deep breath, filling his lungs with the regrettable scent of his own making, and planted his other foot with the same determined thud.
He was ready to push this demon out of his system, come hell or high water.
Then Kris clenched his ass cheeks with the determination of a warrior preparing for battle. He leaned forward, planting his forearms on his thighs, looking like some kind of evil mastermind deep in thought, plotting world domination.
From the outside, you'd think he was channeling his inner villain, ready to unleash chaos.
With a deep breath, he released his clenched cheeks and spread 'em, widening his asshole just a bit, giving the impending shit a little more room to maneuver.
He took another deep breath, filling his lungs with the rank air of the bathroom, and then, with the force of a primal scream, he hollered from the depths of his soul.
"Arrrrghhhhhhhhhhh!"
It was like an expert exorcist technique, but instead of expelling demons, he was trying to expel a literal demon of a turd. As he roared, his cheeks jiggled like a bowl of gelatin, and he felt his stomach churn.
Finally, one of those rock-hard poops came out of his asshole like a divine golden goose laying its precious egg after years of constipation.
Plop~
Kris panted heavily, sweat dripping down his face. That one maneuver had taken everything out of him.
'I am definitely joining a gym after this,' he thought, his body trembling from the effort.
Crackle~ Druum~
As if to punctuate his victory, a lightning bolt struck outside, its thunderous boom echoing through the bathroom.
Kris felt the rumble in his gut like a T-Rex stomping through his intestines, ready to unleash prehistoric chaos. Suddenly, without warning, a relentless stream of slimy poop began to leak from his divine egg-laying hole.
For a brief, shining moment, he felt the sweet relief of an unburdened ass, but that joy was short-lived.