Mini-Story #3: I Can Still Fit in the Baby Swing

"I bet I could still fit in that." It had started as a simple wager between boys. The playground at the park had been surprisingly sparse, meaning that a small group of fifth grade brats had the run of the land. Ben had been the smallest of this group, and was often the butt of many jokes about his diminutive size. This hassling had made Ben become more of an outgoing personality, as a way to overcompensate for his shortcomings. He was obnoxious and tended to make himself the center of attention, much to mixed reactions from the boys he hung out with. A taller boy with brown hair was the first to reject the premise with a shake of his head. "No way, Benny-boy. You're small, but not that small! You'd probably end up getting stuck." Another boy piped in, "Nah, I think he could do it! If he gets stuck, then we can just help him out of it." The rest of the lads deliberated among themselves with brash remarks and absurd hypotheticals, but the general consensus seemed to be an agreement that this was at least something to do. "Alright, Ben...We'll give you a hand in getting into it." The tallest boy finally spoke, seemingly amused by the situation. The group moved to the toddler swing in question, and the larger boys started to assist Ben in getting inside of it. After a couple attempts, they realized he was just a little too big with his baggy pants. "I think you're going to have to take them off, dude. You need that extra room." Begrudgingly, Ben stripped out of them and down to his white briefs. As they began to successfully sit him in, one of the boys made the obvious joke: "Haha, it kinda looks like you're sitting in a diaper in the swing. Fitting, I guess." Ben rolled his eyes, feeling a burning grow upon his face as he heard the assorted snickers of his peers. It was a pretty accurate point, since it was the obvious thing for a boy to be wearing in such a swing. The next few minutes were filled with the obvious conclusion to this little experiment, with the boys taking turns pushing the 'baby' and making playful remarks about the 'little guy'. It wasn't too much for Ben to tolerate, but it did start to grind after a few straight minutes of condescending toddler-talk. More pressing was the sudden churning in his gut, compliments of the sloppy joe that he'd had for lunch at school. The park thankfully had a restroom, but he needed to visit it now. "Alright guys, it was fun, but I really need to take a dump. Go ahead and help me out of this thing." Silence was the immediate answer, and it was deafening. He felt a chill run down his spine at what that must mean. "Well, BABY Benny...I mean, you got your 'diaper', and we don't want you to miss out on the fun..." His complaints turned to pleas, and those pleas became desperate cries as he kicked his dangling feet and groaned. He gripped the chains of the swing and closed his eyes; it was over for him. A thunderous rumble trumpeted from the back of the swing, its sheer bravado echoed by the plastic seat; as the explosion subsided, it was a muffled crackling sound as he pushed an immense turd into his briefs. The last thing he heard as he pinched the loaf, was the nearing calls of his younger sister, coming to tell him it was time to come home. ‐---------------------------------------