DiapOut: Chapter 47
“Think about the WET Diaper Lovers Club. If Zeke presses that button, our club–”
“...will carry on like we did before. The money changes nothing.”
“Rats!” Cassi murmured under her breath. After everything she did to turn Kyoko and Zeke against each other, to have her efforts undone by something as cheesy as “the power of friendship” made her want to gag. No, nuh-uh! She did not have lesbian diaper sex with one of her contestants just to watch the seeds of chaos she’d planted wither and die.
Shifting away from the grossly sympathetic–emphasis on pathetic–display that Kyoko, Zeke, and Rupert were putting on, Cassi set her sights on the Messers spaced-out fourth member, Cade. Having yet to remove the pacifier he’d received as punishment during Round 3, Cade was the ace Cassi kept tucked up her sleeve. His doped-up mind had to be good and malleable by now. All he needed was a gentle push.
CRINKLE!
With limited time to work with, Cassi had no choice but to go for a direct attack. Her palm mashed into the front of Cade’s padded crotch with intense velocity, nearly bringing the addle-minded contestant to his knees. Turning the poor boy to putty in her hands, she ruthlessly whispered the phrase, “Press the button,” in his sensitive, susceptible ear before slinking away without a trace.
Cassi’s movements were so swift that nary a camera nor an audience member caught her in the act. Only Ayaya spotted the salacious transaction taking place, although she didn’t have much of a reason to speak up; at least, not yet anyway. Instead, she simply sat back and watched as Cassi’s wicked tongue sent Cade staggering toward the fateful red button.
“P-Pwess da button?”
“CADE! NO!”
FLASH!
“Goddess, wow! Cade from the Messers has pressed the button!” Cassi said, feigning surprise as harsh red light overtook the sound stage. Gasps and idle murmurs arose throughout the live studio audience as she swarmed in on Cade armed with her microphone. “Talk to me, Cade. Was it simply greed, or was there a more vindictive reason behind your decision?”
Confused and still slightly aroused, Cade’s toasted memory left him unable to explain what compelled him to screw his own team over. Heck, he couldn’t even remember what the button was supposed to do. Struck by a brief moment of mental clarity, the reality of his hazy high state of mind suddenly dawned on him, which only added to his confusion considering Kyoko had kept him abstinent since filming began.
Unfortunately, Cade was given little time to ruminate on this revelation as his teammates rushed in to accost him. “What the frick, Cade?!” Kyoko shouted, instantly spotting the distant vacancy behind Cade’s corneas. She snapped her fingers around his eyes to confirm his poor reaction time. “Goddess-damnit! I told you to stay sober–OOF!”
THUMP!
“Why to go, dude,” said Rupert, a little peeved that his pot-smoking buddy saw fit to toke up without telling him. Not enough to be seriously mad at but enough to bap the back of Cade’s head; he had better reasons to be upset with his friend. “You couldn’t at least share? I’ve been Jonesing since the Mess-Off.”
Shaking his head vehemently, Cade racked the recesses of his brain in search of when he possibly could’ve gotten high. Between Kyoko and Zeke, he hadn’t had a moment to himself. “I dunno…I wuh jus standin’ over dere an…” he said, his cheeks flushing as he thought back to Cassi’s handsiness; a memory so unbelievable that he wasn’t even 100 percent sure it actually happened.
“And what? You thought screwing us all out of five-hundred grand seemed like a fun idea?” mocked Kyoko, her short fuse shrinking more and more by the second. Her insulting question sparked a frenzy of argumentative voices as all four Messers began speaking over each other.
Cassi, meanwhile, was more than happy to stand by and let the Messers rip into each other. In-fighting always made for good TV. Still, she couldn’t let her show go off the rails. Inserting herself in between Kyoko, Cade, and the rest of the Messers, she aimed to resume control of the game. “Now, now, children. Let’s simmer down. You’ll all have plenty of time to sort out your differences in our Sudden Death Final Round, where one of our lovely eight contestants will walk away with $500,000!” she announced, much to the enjoyment of her captivated crowd, who proceeded to shower her with their loudest applause of the day.
“Eight? You mean four, right?” Zeke said, correcting his host’s obvious faux pas seeing as the Wetters were eliminated after Round 3.
Air whistled as it coursed through the gap Cassi’s impish smile. “Like I said, my sweet, silly sissy, the division between teams vanishes once that button is pressed,” she said, devouring the dour expressions setting in on each of the Messers’ faces. “As a result, every contestant, including members of the losing side, will have the chance to compete as individuals. Think of it like being a part of one big, happy team!”
Too shocked to even respond to the crock of television-manufactured bullshit that Cassi was spewing, Kyoko and the Messers were left dumbfounded as Mia, Misa, Ayaya, and Lelaya awkwardly shuffled over to their half of the stage. It didn’t matter to what degree each of them knew their inclusion was unfair. They weren’t about to turn down one last shot at the grand prize.
“What’s wrong, messy Messers? Afraid you just got lucky the first time?” Lelaya playfully taunted. Despite the pointedness of her words, she was completely oblivious to Cassi’s manipulation and as such, fully believed her second chance was genuine.
Strangely enough, Lelaya’s good-natured yet competitive spirit lit a fire behind Kyoko's eyes. It didn’t matter what Cassi or this show threw at her. She and her team had made it this far. “Bring it on, bunny ears! We beat you guys as many times as we have to.”
“Rawr, ladies! Save those attitudes for the big event!” said Cassi, centering herself amongst the group of contestants. “Which of these eight fierce contestants will leave today as DiapOut’s first victor?! The Final Round kicks off when we return!”
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“And cut! Great work, Cassi. Everyone, clear the stage area. We’ve got one more set change to get through before we can get out of here,” said Keelee, her voice audible through a black-and-white monitor that displayed a live feed of the entire sound stage.
Seated before the monitor, a slender, rose-haired woman sipped at the half-full glass of wine in her hand. Despite the late hour, her sunglasses remained in place along the bridge of her nose. “Very interesting,” she muttered, the wine glass refilling in her hand as if by magic as it parted from her lips. While it did leave a slightly bitter taste in her mouth as a viewer, she had to admit she was enthralled by the drama Cassi’s twist created. “What do you think, Jonas? Would you watch another episode after a stunt like this?”
“I’m not certain, Miss Caretaker. I don’t watch much television,” said Jonas, personal assistant to the CEO of CrissBaby Diaper Co.
Disappointed by Jonas’s non-answer, Master–known publicly as Miss Caretaker–spun her chair to face her smartly dressed assistant. “Oh, c’mon. Don’t be so stiff,” she said, thumping Jonas on the arm. “Put yourself in someone else’s shoes. You’ve been rooting for Messers since Round 1, only for the rug to be pulled out from under their feet. Are you tuning in next week to root for another team?”
Unlike their first response, Jonas thought long and hard before delivering their answer. “Probably not. It breaks the two-team premise that the show was based on, and makes it hard to trust the showrunners moving forward.”
“Bingo,” Master said, her thoughts echoed by Jonas. Plopping her glass on the edge of her executive desk, she bent down and yanked open the bottom-most drawer to retrieve a glowing, rose gold key. “I’ll be home late tonight, Jonas. Something tells me I’ll have more than a few butts to paddle when I get down to the studio.”
Without asking, Jonas plucked Master’s pink suit jacket off the back of her chair and held it open in anticipation. “Shall I arrange a bubble bath for when you return?” Jonas asked diligently, demonstrating their uncanny ability to predict their employer’s needs.
“Jonas, what would I do without you?” praised Master, sliding her arms into her jacket. With her rose gold key in hand, she sashayed toward her office door and slid the reality-warping device into the lock. Closing her eyes, she imagined her destination in the forefront of her mind before turning the key clockwise. Piercing white light burst through the doorway, forcing her assistant to avert his eyes. Master, meanwhile, didn’t even so much as flinch. “Next stop, Burbank.”
TO BE CONTINUED…