I'm not sure why Emily asked me to write this story down. It's just a funny, gross thing that happened to us a couple weeks back.
My name's Roweena. I'm a college student in my mid-20s, a little older than most of my classmates. I can't afford the student housing, so I live at home and commute to campus every day. My best friend Emily lives at home, too. She doesn't own a car, so I'm always giving her rides.
Today, Emily was working late in her Biology lab. It was a Wednesday afternoon after class, and I was bored out of my mind waiting for her.
"Emillyyyy," I whined, "let's goooooo."
She was hunched over a lab bench, scribbling in a small notebook. She bounced her leg anxiously. "One more minute," she said.
Emily had been stressed recently. She'd started working for her Biology professor as a research assistant. The job paid okay, but now she seemed distracted all the time.
"Almost done," she mumbled, "almost..." Then she turned a page, and her eyes widened. "Wait - there's actually more."
I sighed, frustrated.
Emily had been my best friend since we were kids. She was a white girl, pale and thin, with glasses and a messy brown ponytail. Today, like most days, she wore a white buttoned blouse and a knee-length skirt.
I look a little different. I'm mixed-race - my parents are both immigrants - and I'm pretty dark-skinned. I have straight black hair past my shoulders. Unlike Emily, I'm in really good shape: I teach kickboxing classes in the mornings, and I lift weights. I'm proud of being strong. I wear tight t-shirts and jeans most days, and I look good in them.
Emily and I make a strange pair of friends, but we've always supported each other. And, most of the time, we can make each other laugh. Isn't that all you need?
The Biology lab wasn't too exciting: most of the shelves held nothing but textbooks. In one corner, though, I found a clear plastic container full of tiny lizards. "Hey, buddies," I cooed to them. I tapped the plastic, but the lizards didn't move.
"Don't bother those," Emily said, distracted. "I'm trying to get them to mate."
"Oh. Sexy."
I kept pacing around. On the far side of the laboratory, the Biology professor had left some personal items on a desk. There was an old couch there, too.
Something caught my eye: a small plastic baggie lay on the professor's desk. It was labeled "FITNESS NUTRIENTS," and it held a few dozen brown tablets.
"Fitness nutrients?" I asked.
"Yeah," said Emily, without looking up. "Dr. V is developing a vitamin formula. Her mom's retirement home has this exercise program..."
I shook a tablet out and popped it into my mouth. I should start taking more vitamins, I thought idly. The tablet was large, but I managed to swallow it whole.
I cleared my throat. "Emily, are you almost done?"
"Um..." She was still writing in her notebook. "A little longer. Sorry."
Sighing, I flopped down onto the old couch. The cushions were ripped in places, and it smelled funky... but it felt surprisingly soft.
I stretched out and rested my head against an old throw pillow. Soon, I was yawning.
"Don't fall asleep over there," Emily warned me. "I'll be finished in a couple minutes."
"I won't. Don't worry."
My legs were a little sore from kickboxing that morning, and it was nice to relax. After a few minutes, I couldn't help getting sleepy - the couch was just too comfortable. The next thing I knew, Emily was shaking my shoulder.
"Wake up, Roweena. I'm ready to go."
"Hmm?" I rolled over. "Mmm... I'm sleepy..."
"I see that." Emily sighed. "Well, okay. I guess there's more work I can do..."
She left me alone. I relaxed and fell asleep on the couch again, pretty deeply this time. Soon, I started dreaming. It's fuzzy now, but I'm pretty sure I dreamed about having sex with my weightlifting partner. That was nice. In real life, I haven't gotten laid in a very long time.
Suddenly, a sharp pain in my stomach woke me up. "Ow, ow..." I said. I sat up, holding my belly, and saw Emily studying at the lab bench.
"Hey, Roweena," she greeted me.
"Hey," I grunted. "How long was I asleep?"
"Couple of hours. You were pretty conked out."
"Sorry. I guess I needed a nap." My midsection gave another painful throb, and I winced. "God, my stomach is killing me..."
Emily looked up. "You're not just hungry? It's almost dinnertime."
"No way." Standing, I rubbed my bloated belly. My pants felt tight. "I'm stuffed, actually."
I was feeling gassy. Opening my mouth wide, I let loose with an airy belch. A chemical odor - like gasoline - filled my mouth.
Emily made a face. "Excuse you," she said.
"Sorry. I feel weird." Another small burp escaped my throat. "Ugh. Maybe it was those vitamins."
"Vitamins?" Emily turned pale. "Wait a second. You didn't swallow one of those tablets, did you?"
I blinked at her. "Um... was that bad?"
"Roweena!" She scrambled to her feet. "That tablet was enough for, like, twenty old ladies! You're supposed to dissolve it in a water cooler!"
"Oh." My stomach gave a loud, gassy gurgle. "What was in it?" I asked.
"I don't know! It's experimental!" Emily approached me, hyperventilating. "Roweena, we have to call a hospital! Oh, my god - "
"Hey, come on." I held out my hands reassuringly. Emily had anxiety problems, and I was always trying to calm her down. "Listen," I said slowly, "this thing won't kill me, will it?"
She relaxed slightly. "No," she admitted. "Probably not."
"Okay, good. So it's no problem, right?"
"Well, it won't be very fun," Emily explained. She pushed her glasses up on her face. "The tablet expands in water - it makes this thick, foamy stuff. That all needs to come out of you."
I paused. "Come out of me?"
"Yeah." Emily suddenly smiled, trying not to giggle. "You're gonna take a giant poop, in other words!"
"Lovely," I said. Despite my discomfort, I started to chuckle. At least I could see the humor in the situation. "You mean... a super poop?"
"Yes!" Emily cried. "Roweena's super poop!"
I burst out laughing. "What a shitty super power!"
For a long moment, we both laughed together like teenagers. Then another stab of pain hit me, and I clutched my stomach again and sat back on the couch.
My belly made an angry-sounding gurgle. "That doesn't sound good," Emily observed.
"Doesn't feel good, either," I grunted. The pressure moved downwards inside me, and I made a sour face. "Uh oh," I said.