Shit Hits the Fan The Remote of Transformation chapter 19 by deleted_user

Brandon’s green eyes narrowed into slits of pure annoyance. His skinny, flat-chested body felt all wrong — no bounce, no jiggle, no power. Just awkward angles and baggy clothes.

“That’s it. Give me that damn remote, you old bat!” he snapped in his new high-pitched, whiny voice.

He lunged forward, bony arms flailing, and snatched the remote right out of Linda’s hand. In the chaotic grab, the remote swung wildly — pointed straight at Linda.

Brandon’s mind flashed with pure panic: Shit!

The remote didn’t care about context. It only heard the thought.

Target acquired: Linda.

A thick, disgusting brown light erupted from the remote and slammed into the cranky blonde bombshell.

Linda’s eyes went wide. “What the fu—”

The change was instantaneous and revolting.

Her stacked young body collapsed in on itself with wet, squelching sounds. Massive tits, tiny waist, wide hips, and fat ass all melted downward in a grotesque rush, skin and flesh turning into soft, steaming, chocolate-brown shit. Her clothes shredded and dissolved as the pile grew. In seconds, where the hot young Linda had been standing was now a massive, glistening, sentient pile of shit — roughly human-sized, warm, and slowly shifting and rippling like it was breathing.

A familiar gravelly voice bubbled up from the center of the pile, sounding exactly like the old Mrs. Hargrove but now echoing wetly from deep inside the muck.

“You stupid fucking idiot! What the hell did you just do to me?! I’m a goddamn pile of shit! I can feel it… everything’s squishy and warm and I’m leaking a little on your floor, you nasty kids! This smells awful even to me! Change me back right this second before I start stinkin’ up the whole damn apartment!”

The pile quivered angrily, a few small chunks sliding off the top with wet plops. It tried to “stand” but only managed to wobble and spread a little wider across the carpet, leaving a faint brown smear.

Vince fell backward onto the couch, laughing so hard tears streamed down his face. “Holy fucking shit — literally! Mrs. H, you’re a turd! A big, sentient, cranky turd! This is the greatest day of my life!”

Brandon stood there, stick-thin and horrified, still clutching the remote. “Oh my god… I didn’t mean to — I just thought ‘shit’ because I was mad! Linda, I’m so sorry! This is disgusting… you’re literally a pile of poop right now!”

From inside the warm, stinking mound came another wet, furious rant: “Sorry ain’t gonna cut it, you little freak! I can taste the carpet! Everything’s brown and squishy and I’m starting to feel chunks of corn in here from that damn pizza! Fix this before I decide to smear myself all over your nice couch!”

The sentient shit pile that used to be Linda rippled angrily, another small turd chunk sliding off with a gross splat.