Long Story #17: The Most Dangerous Gameshow (P2)

As the show went to break, the other three boys would be swiftly changed into something more protective. Timmy's IQ was at '64' and Richter's was at '70', and Jaime had soaked shorts on. The two dumbest contestants were given Pull-Ups, since their IQ was just above the threshold for full-on diapers, but Jaime was not spared that indignity. None of them would be given pants to cover up with either. "These feel kinda funny." Jaime commented, pinching at the crinkly plastic that coated the outer layer of the puffy white garment. "I dun' need this, m'still poddy-trained." Timothy tried to argue as he was put into the plain Pull-Up, which was arguably not much different than a diaper itself. "Me too!" Richter groused. "Sorry, boys. That's just the rules of the game. Seventy and under get to wear them. We have similar rules for if you reach a certain age that's low enough. Better safe than sorry, and the crowd loves a little toilet humor in their game." The host insisted, laying there on his back as his own dirty diaper got changed. Jaime glanced over at Miles and smiled wryly, "You'll prolly get some next round. You're so far behind, you'll have to pick all the most dangerous questions. Only question is, will you be wearing them because you're so dumb or because you're so little?" "Shut up, you little twerp. I think you have to be cheating, to be doing as well as you are. I saw you before the show, quizzing yourself on those little grade school flashcards! No way your IQ is as high as your podium says it is." Miles rebutted, looking angry. As the former teen said, Jaime had been a significantly different looking contestant before the show had started. He'd looked nervous, he'd been reviewing basic material, he'd started to cry whenever Timothy had made fun of his stuffed animal. The game sometimes had a 'joke' contestant, who was completely inept for the challenges ahead, so the other three boys had assumed that out of Jaime. When prodded, he'd even tearfully admitted to being a bedwetter for heaven's sake. Before losing his pottytraining, he'd already been wearing diapers to bed, and now the little piss-baby was leading by a huge margin? Either there were shenanigans afoot, or Jaime had been playing them for fools. It was starting to appear that the child might actually be as smart as his podium said, and that he'd hustled the other three in order to inflate their confidence. There was no easier opponent than one who underestimated their prey. Still, there seemed to be more than that. This show had always followed a 'theme' for picking contestants, and in a first, everyone here was from the same town. Miles and Richter went to the same high school and had competed against eachother for years; Timmy was well known at the middle school for being their star academic. Jaime though... He was a little more of a mystery to the two older teens, but Timmy had reassured he was nothing to worry about. "My little brother had him in his class in first and second grade, when I was in fifth. He was special ed back then, still pooping himself and everything; must be a joke candidate." Jaime hadn't denied any of that at the time. He hadn't denied being a short-bus riding pantsfiller, and had only been able to retort that he only wet the bed now and didn't poop in his pants anymore. That part would soon ring untruthful now, but that wasn't necessarily his fault. So there was the mystery. Jaime was supposed to be a halfwit child, and here he was dominating the game. "S'not fair. He's supposta be all tardee!" Timmy accused, slovenly itching at his now padded rump. "My baby brudder said so! He usta' pick on you!" "But then he transferred to a private school in third grade, didn't he? Guess his information wasn't very up-to-date." Jaime grinned back at the now younger boy. "I think also that he's your 'big' brother now. A shame, he really seemed to look up to you. I know what that's like, to have an older brother suddenly become your 'little' one." "Back to your podiums, everyone! Time for round four to start, in five, four, three..." Miles had more questions than answers now, and he was the only contestant left that could really work through them. Richter and Timmy were in a bad way, so they wouldn't be much help going forward; if Miles didn't buckle down, then Jaime was going to completely sweep this game. "Welcome back, ladies and gentlemen! Its time for our fourth round of the game, and today's theme? The humiliation round! Every question will be worth double-points if they add a humiliation token to their wager." It wasn’t a unique theme to add to the game. Every show had its own special twist for the fourth round, but they often recycled the same dozen or so; for example, last week had a fourth round where each question was accompanied by a physical challenge, and the week before that had used a linguistic element to offer bonus points. Humiliation was probably one of the most popular reoccurring themes though, and it wasn’t hard to see why; this show was all about the destruction of each contestant, in the pursuit of their own greed or pride. No greater foibles would be had than what would come with the introduction of the ‘Humiliation Token’, and the audience was ready to eat it all up. The camera panned to Richter, who’d been mining for gold in his own nose. Upon his name being called, his index finger quickly retreated down and his eyes bugged with a guilty glow. The host chuckled, “Sorry to interrupt, but your turn is first, Richter. What question would you like to take?” The questions had changed with the changing of the contestants. The average difficulty of each one was dropped to better accommodate the lower IQ that three-fourths of the boys were dealing with. Jaime would still get normal questions though, so it wasn’t giving him a huge advantage; it was only giving the other boys a chance to still play the game. Difficulty would be relative, even as the former geniuses were horrifically transformed into drooling retards that pooed in their pants. Richter looked at the questions and squinted, mouth gaping with a dumbfounded look on his face. “Ummm… Geo-gaffy, fur’ the most.” “Alright, ‘Geography’ for five-hundred! What would you like to wager?” The prompt came up and Richter looked like he had to think pretty hard about it. He’d already been made pretty dumb, but he’d also managed to keep his age for the most part. It was silly to think, but he was a little protective of keeping his status as a teenager; it was probably due to the smarts that had already fled his head, but he thought that was the more impressive part of him now. He was a lot bigger than the other three contestants, who were all children now. So he picked to wager IQ points, twenty of them, and he slid the humiliation token into play too. “Okay, the question is: which country is known for being shaped like a boot?” “D-duhh...Umm… That’s easy...That’s…” The teen trailed off, seeming a little unsure. It was such an easy question, but his knowledge had shrunk by such a precipitous amount, and his processing speed had slowed down quite a bit too. “...They’re known for their pasta and their plumbers. A former Axis power, and home to the Vatican.” Paxton humored the moron, known for starting to give hints when his contestants began to get mushy in the head. “P-Pasta town?” “Oh, so close! But I’m afraid that’s incorrect. That puts your IQ level down to fifty, and let us see what your humiliation token gets you…” The screen flickered to life again, while the teenager’s skull got zapped and his intellect was further sapped, now taking him into pretty bad territory. At fifty points, his intelligence was a shell of what it once was; he would have no sense of literacy, and the adult Pull-Up he’d been put in would prove to be completely insufficient for his needs. Funny enough, his humiliation token was almost unnecessary: his challenge was to piss his pants in front of the audience, which as the camera zoomed in on his padded crotch, it could be seen that he was already doing just that. The front of the material swelled with urine, turning a faint yellow, and Richter drooled and moaned happily at the feeling of release. “Would anyone else like to answer the question? Like before, the wager is halved, and you are allowed to use your token to double the points, and the penalty will remain the same.” Miles slammed his palm down on the buzzer. He wasn’t a genius any more, but he was nearly still average, which meant that a grade school question like this would be easy for him. If he wanted to beat Jaime, then he’d have to take whatever questions he possibly could. “The answer is Italy!” “That is… Correct! That’s a thousand points for Miles, which pushes him from the back of the pack, to the very front! Very good, very good… Now, Timothy, or maybe we should say ‘Timmy’? Which question would you like to take? Let me know if you need help reading the choices.” Timothy was scratching his padded butt again, seemingly unaware that he should be acting a little more refined on television. “Umm…” He was too embarrassed though to admit that his ability to read had mostly been destroyed by this point. The now ‘youngest’ boy pointed his finger at the middle of the board, “Very middlest one!” “Okay, that’ll be ‘Zoology’ for three hundred points. Choose your wager and whether or not you’ll be using your token.” The boy looked down at the screen on his podium and didn’t seem to have any strategies bumping around in his head. He knew he’d lost both much of his age, and much of his intelligence, so there wasn’t really a ‘best’ option here for him to take. Lose another two years or another fifteen IQ points? Deliberating on the pointlessness of his decision, he finally pressed one of the buttons and slid his humiliation token on. He really needed to double the points on this one, and Richter had only had to pee himself, so maybe the tokens weren’t so bad? “Here’s the question. True or false: are there are pink dolphins living in the amazon?” He actually knew this one! Not from his vast amount of studying, but from a cartoon he remembered! He gave a big smile, “True!” “That’s correct! That’s six hundred points, which puts you at second place! Would you like to answer another question?” “Uh-huh! The one nexta’ the dolphin one!” He made the same wager for the next question, which had the category of ‘Children’s Literature’. The question was asking about who the author of the ‘Goosebumps’ books was, and while Timmy could no longer read such complex material, he still remembered the name of the author, which gave him another six hundred points and pushed him right into first place. Feeling overconfident, he went for one more question, at the same value of the previous two: “Third question in a row, wow! Alright, well the question is: what product had the tagline ‘I’m a big kid now?’” The irony of the question was lot on Timmy, even though he was wearing something that was basically the same thing as the answer. He hemmed and hawed about it, not noticing some warmth as the front of said garment began to swell just as Richter’s had, but without the need for any penalty to do so. “Ummm… Undie-pants?” “That’s real close, Timmy, but I’m afraid that’s not the answer. That means you’ll be losing another two years, and that you’ll have to do the challenge from your humiliation token. Before that, can anyone else answer the question?” Miles knew the answer to this one, but it was Jaime that was quicker on the buzzer. “Pull-Ups. Just like what Timmy and Richter are wearing. I used to hafta wear them a lot too, so I remember the commercials pretty well. I don’t think that Timmy is using them right, though...” Timmy shrunk again, now resembling a first grader instead of the middle-schooler that he had started the game as. Worse, it was time to reveal his token’s price, which seemed to be a companion piece to what Richter had dealt with. “Face your backside to the audience and soil yourself, Timmy. That is your penalty for the round.” The host read off to the illiterate boy, to which he didn’t look to quite understand. “Soil? Like flowers?” “No, Timmy. Soil, like poop. You need to poop in your Pull-Ups for the audience. We have laxatives if you need assistance.” The little boy got red-faced at the explanation and he gave a nervous giggle too. “I dun’ do that. I’ma big kid. Big kids don’t poo-poo their pants.” “Yes, but you used a ‘humiliation token’, so I’m afraid that you’ll have to, or else you’ll automatically lose the game.” That caught his attention. He had already given up so much to play the game up until this point, so he couldn’t very well just give up! If he did, then all those sacrifices would be in vain, and he’d be stuck as a dimwitted pipsqueak for no reason. He wouldn’t even get the consolation prize! With a sour expression, he toddled out from behind his podium and to the center of the stage. His Pull-Up was already slightly sagging from the soaking that he’d helplessly given it, not that he really seemed to notice. Timmy turned around, the garment a little loose on his waist, since he’d lost two years since putting it on. Knees became bent, fists balled up, and his padded posterior was presented to the studio audience (as well as the multiple cameras that were zooming in to get a good shot!) A rumbling came from behind him, amplified significantly by the small microphone clipped to the waistband of the disposable brief, and Timmy started to stupidly grunt. A few more toots squeaked out, and then there was a disgusting crackling noise, and everyone could see that the back of the brief was beginning to bulge with a large lump of filth. “Nnngh! Mmmph! I didda poopie!” He announced, turning his head toward the audience and then down at the prodigious bump that he’d created. “Very good, Timmy. You can go back to your podium.” The halfwit smiled and waddled back to his place, the heavy turd in his trainers bouncing the swaying seat around. The audience was laughing at him, but at least he was still in the game! Maybe he could even still win this! Fortunately for him, he was dumb enough that he didn’t seem to acknowledge that a victory by this point would be horribly hollow. What would the point of the cash prize be if he was a dumb little kid? “Jaime, now it’s your turn. You’re doing the best that we’ve seen here in a while, having only missed one question so far, so let’s hope that your luck continues!” Paxton said, sounding genuinely impressed by the young contestant’s mettle. “I think it will. For my first question, I think I’ll pick ‘Japanese Folklore’ for three-hundred points. I’ll wager fifteen IQ points and I’ll use my token.” He decided, though he didn’t seem to care much which category he picked; his confidence in victory was a lot higher than his fellow contestants. “You got it. What is the name of the water spirit that prefers cucumber as a snack?” “That’s easy. That’s a ‘Kappa’. They have a hole in their head where their brain should be, kinda like my competition.” Jaime snickered, glancing over at the two mentally addled boys to his left. “That is correct! Would you like to keep going? That already takes your score up to ‘2300’.” “Thanks! Yes, I think I’ll pick… Video Games for two hundred points. I’ll wager twelve months and my token again.” The screen suddenly flashed with the words ‘Daily Double’. “Look at that, a chance to get even more points! You can get eight-hundred by doubling your token; you won’t have to wager anything more, but if you lose, then you’ll have to deal with two different humiliations. If you lose, then that doubling won’t transfer to whoever steals; do you want to take it?” Jaime scoffed, “Of course!” The host nodded and read what the next bit would be.“Your question: What was the name of the primary antagonist in ‘Donkey Kong Country’ for the Super Nintendo?” That one was something that actually looked to stump the young genius. He’d been able to figure out all sorts of obscure tidbits and trivium, but the games he played were a little more modern. “O-oh, umm… I don’t…” He put a finger to his chin and frowned, “...I don’t know that one. I’ve never played a Donkey Kong game…” “Does that mean you give up on the question?” Jaime blushed and nodded, “...Yeah, I’ll have to just say that I don’t know.” “That’s a first! The last question you got wrong, it was only by a small amount, but I suppose you can’t know it all. Before your penalties, would anyone care to steal?” Miles slammed his palm down on the buzzer, “King K. Rool!” It wasn’t a game that Miles had played, but it was the name of his heavy main in Super Smash Brothers. Four hundred points went to the second smartest contestant, which tied him with Timothy, while Jaime still led the pack. The game was still pretty contentious for everyone except Richter, who hadn’t even cracked a thousand yet, and who had lost far too much intellect to be much of a threat by this point. Jaime was zapped and grew younger by a year, which was fairly negligible to see, except for maybe losing a couple of inches of height and ten pounds of weight. “Now, for your humiliation tokens… First, is that you’ll be spending the rest of the game in baby clothes. Second…” The host looked up at the big screen, which had showed infantile apparel under a big number one, and then under the two, was a crude depiction of someone putting their nose up to a diapered butt that had stink lines rising from it. “...Looks like you’ll need to give someone’s dirty diaper some attention for thirty seconds. Looks like Timmy is your own option right now too.” Jaime cringed and looked over at the drooling moron, “That’s really… Gross. Can’t I do something else?” “I’m afraid the challenges are non-negotiable, but you are allowed to leave the game if you’d like.” Jaime was the clear choice for winning this whole game. That was way too much to give up, even if it meant discarding more of his decency. Like Timmy, the sunken costs were too high to simply give up; Jaime had literally made himself incontinent, possibly permanently, so he really needed to win to make it worthwhile! Besides, he had other motivations besides the money, and he refused to let Miles win this. (Continued in Part 3)