The Finale
Family's New Shrink Ray
chapter 13
by
copier
· original author:
ozstriker
*Guuurr sleuuth blorpp*
The amplified howls from the mature woman’s core continued to fill the hall, some continued to laugh, some covered their ears to compensate the excessive volume, some cringed aware of the harsh brutality of what was about to unfold to the character on screen.
Debbie retracted the microphone from her skin as the noise was starting to effect some of the more mature doctors in the audience, also, displaying her bare breakfast bloat to her students was starting to make her feel a little self conscious.
The laughter from the audio description was still echoing when the monitor suddenly shifted again. The tiny figure, once bobbing cheerfully in the cameras eye was suddenly drawn into the current of an increasingly relentless churning whirlpool. The folds pressed in, squeezing, kneading, and the slurry of oatmeal and gastric juices began to bubble around it. The illusion was disturbingly convincing, with the figure now appearing to be in a state of frantic panic, the effects of the acid now visible on his skin. A chorus of groans rippled through the audience. “Ohhh, that’s nasty,” someone muttered, clutching their notebook to their chest. Another student gagged loudly, earning nervous laughter. A young girl in the front row covered her eyes, peeking through her fingers as though watching a horror film. Even the administrators at the back leaned away, grimacing.
Debbie, sensing the shift in the audiences immergence and her gut activity. She clipped the microphone back onto her collar and pushed it towards her face with mock solemnity.
“As I mentioned before, his situation was not a fortuitous one and definitely not for the faint of heart. Our guest is certainly learning the hard way that hydrochloric acid is not a spa treatment.”
She placed her hand high on her belly once again, her stomach spluttering in momentum under her skin. She was finding the sensation of her own digestive activity surprisingly pleasant, with the visual display of biological dominance over a seemingly insignificant being only enhancing the buzz. Whatever supplement her son had planted, she was actually enjoying digesting it.
On the screen, the figurine seemed to be struggling to stay on the surface, sinking deeper into the frothing mix, slowing down in movement and looking warn to the bone. The thick oatmeal was also dissolving into a smooth, pale paste. Bubbles rising and popping, obscuring the figure’s features. Even the giant blueberry was starting to melt away into a puddle of deep purple. A quick contraction then pushed him back into the closeup view, only this time, one of his arms looked as though it was melting into the tide. The crowd recoiled, a wave of “ewwwwww” sweeping the room.
A girl who’d previously been watching intently was now reeling back in her seat, cringing in horror: “Oh god.. He’s… being…” but was too intwined to finish her observation, another more eagerly focused student prompted her line with sinister delight: “Digested!”
Acknowledging this assessment, Debbie raised her hand theatrically, conducting their disgust, but embracing the sense of power whilst responding to the commentary. She answered with an air of fake concern:
“I’m afraid he is, Alas our poor friend is now becoming… we’ll let’s say at-one with the nutritious soup you’ve all had the pleasure of watching me create… Fascination and revulsion. Awe and disgust. You can’t have one without the other and I can’t benefit from this delicious breakfast without the chemical process you are witnessing on screen."
The camera zoomed closer, showing the caustic slurry now clinging tightly to the figurine, coating him in a murky, sticky film. The illusion was grotesque, the tiny “person” looked half‑dissolved, like a wax figure left too close to a flame. Clearly in pain and undoubtedly past the point of any salvation. A student in the second row gagged again, muttering, “I’ll never eat oatmeal again.” another commented "its like something out of a horror movie.."
Debbie grinned, unable to do anything else but savour the moment. There was no denying it was a gory display, but she’d certainly hit the brief in demonstrating both the quality of the camera to the wonders of digestion and her body was doing a impeccable job of turning Derek's contribution into an example.
“Sorry to say that science is um.. amazing, but not always pretty. Just remember this is a very natural process, something going on inside all of you right now..”
The audience groaned again, some laughing nervously, others genuinely unsettled. Clara whispered urgently, “Debbie, this is getting… intense. I think we may be upsetting some of the students..”
Debbie winked. “Exactly. They’ll remember this lecture forever.” Ignoring her concerns for a second time.
The figurine bobbed one last time on the screen, half‑submerged, barely moving, its features blurred beyond recognition. For Debbie the image was equal parts hilarious and horrifying, her son’s prank elevated into unforgettable theatre. The decoy Derek had been as defiant as the teenager was himself, but her experienced belly was always going to come out on top. Debbie leaned towards her tiny microphone, and quipped,
“And whoever slipped this little stowaway into my food… I’m afraid they won’t be getting the model back. It’s officially part of the exhibit now.”
The crowd burst into laughter, though many still looked queasy, some looked like they had just witnessed a crime.
As if to punctuate her point, the elegant nurse gave a small, unembarrassed belch into her mic.
*uurrrpp* “ oops, excuse me!”
The timing was impeccable, the figurine disappeared into the frothing slurry on the monitor just as the sound echoed through the hall. The audience groaned in unison, half‑amused, half‑disgusted, clutching their notebooks and covering their mouths. The ocean churned onwards but no figure returned, just a flurry of bubbles where he once performed. For a solid minute, the audience and host just watched the churning ocean on the screen, until the host broke the tension:
“Well, I’d like to thank my special guest, I think a round of applause is in order”
The audience awkwardly clapped the departed figure, with no hope of an encore, the audience again fell unsettlingly quiet again with all eyes on the monitor. Debbie looked to Cara who was now as pale as the oatmeal, she smiled warmly to Debbie before turning to the audience:
“That was quite the performance nurse Jordan, an incredible demonstration of the digestive system in action.. do we have any questions before we take a short break?”
Only one hand raised amongst the traumatised crowd, the young student who had so eagerly exclaimed the figures fate for his fellow student earlier:
“Yeah, will you be looking for volunteers for your next presentation?”
The amplified howls from the mature woman’s core continued to fill the hall, some continued to laugh, some covered their ears to compensate the excessive volume, some cringed aware of the harsh brutality of what was about to unfold to the character on screen.
Debbie retracted the microphone from her skin as the noise was starting to effect some of the more mature doctors in the audience, also, displaying her bare breakfast bloat to her students was starting to make her feel a little self conscious.
The laughter from the audio description was still echoing when the monitor suddenly shifted again. The tiny figure, once bobbing cheerfully in the cameras eye was suddenly drawn into the current of an increasingly relentless churning whirlpool. The folds pressed in, squeezing, kneading, and the slurry of oatmeal and gastric juices began to bubble around it. The illusion was disturbingly convincing, with the figure now appearing to be in a state of frantic panic, the effects of the acid now visible on his skin. A chorus of groans rippled through the audience. “Ohhh, that’s nasty,” someone muttered, clutching their notebook to their chest. Another student gagged loudly, earning nervous laughter. A young girl in the front row covered her eyes, peeking through her fingers as though watching a horror film. Even the administrators at the back leaned away, grimacing.
Debbie, sensing the shift in the audiences immergence and her gut activity. She clipped the microphone back onto her collar and pushed it towards her face with mock solemnity.
“As I mentioned before, his situation was not a fortuitous one and definitely not for the faint of heart. Our guest is certainly learning the hard way that hydrochloric acid is not a spa treatment.”
She placed her hand high on her belly once again, her stomach spluttering in momentum under her skin. She was finding the sensation of her own digestive activity surprisingly pleasant, with the visual display of biological dominance over a seemingly insignificant being only enhancing the buzz. Whatever supplement her son had planted, she was actually enjoying digesting it.
On the screen, the figurine seemed to be struggling to stay on the surface, sinking deeper into the frothing mix, slowing down in movement and looking warn to the bone. The thick oatmeal was also dissolving into a smooth, pale paste. Bubbles rising and popping, obscuring the figure’s features. Even the giant blueberry was starting to melt away into a puddle of deep purple. A quick contraction then pushed him back into the closeup view, only this time, one of his arms looked as though it was melting into the tide. The crowd recoiled, a wave of “ewwwwww” sweeping the room.
A girl who’d previously been watching intently was now reeling back in her seat, cringing in horror: “Oh god.. He’s… being…” but was too intwined to finish her observation, another more eagerly focused student prompted her line with sinister delight: “Digested!”
Acknowledging this assessment, Debbie raised her hand theatrically, conducting their disgust, but embracing the sense of power whilst responding to the commentary. She answered with an air of fake concern:
“I’m afraid he is, Alas our poor friend is now becoming… we’ll let’s say at-one with the nutritious soup you’ve all had the pleasure of watching me create… Fascination and revulsion. Awe and disgust. You can’t have one without the other and I can’t benefit from this delicious breakfast without the chemical process you are witnessing on screen."
The camera zoomed closer, showing the caustic slurry now clinging tightly to the figurine, coating him in a murky, sticky film. The illusion was grotesque, the tiny “person” looked half‑dissolved, like a wax figure left too close to a flame. Clearly in pain and undoubtedly past the point of any salvation. A student in the second row gagged again, muttering, “I’ll never eat oatmeal again.” another commented "its like something out of a horror movie.."
Debbie grinned, unable to do anything else but savour the moment. There was no denying it was a gory display, but she’d certainly hit the brief in demonstrating both the quality of the camera to the wonders of digestion and her body was doing a impeccable job of turning Derek's contribution into an example.
“Sorry to say that science is um.. amazing, but not always pretty. Just remember this is a very natural process, something going on inside all of you right now..”
The audience groaned again, some laughing nervously, others genuinely unsettled. Clara whispered urgently, “Debbie, this is getting… intense. I think we may be upsetting some of the students..”
Debbie winked. “Exactly. They’ll remember this lecture forever.” Ignoring her concerns for a second time.
The figurine bobbed one last time on the screen, half‑submerged, barely moving, its features blurred beyond recognition. For Debbie the image was equal parts hilarious and horrifying, her son’s prank elevated into unforgettable theatre. The decoy Derek had been as defiant as the teenager was himself, but her experienced belly was always going to come out on top. Debbie leaned towards her tiny microphone, and quipped,
“And whoever slipped this little stowaway into my food… I’m afraid they won’t be getting the model back. It’s officially part of the exhibit now.”
The crowd burst into laughter, though many still looked queasy, some looked like they had just witnessed a crime.
As if to punctuate her point, the elegant nurse gave a small, unembarrassed belch into her mic.
*uurrrpp* “ oops, excuse me!”
The timing was impeccable, the figurine disappeared into the frothing slurry on the monitor just as the sound echoed through the hall. The audience groaned in unison, half‑amused, half‑disgusted, clutching their notebooks and covering their mouths. The ocean churned onwards but no figure returned, just a flurry of bubbles where he once performed. For a solid minute, the audience and host just watched the churning ocean on the screen, until the host broke the tension:
“Well, I’d like to thank my special guest, I think a round of applause is in order”
The audience awkwardly clapped the departed figure, with no hope of an encore, the audience again fell unsettlingly quiet again with all eyes on the monitor. Debbie looked to Cara who was now as pale as the oatmeal, she smiled warmly to Debbie before turning to the audience:
“That was quite the performance nurse Jordan, an incredible demonstration of the digestive system in action.. do we have any questions before we take a short break?”
Only one hand raised amongst the traumatised crowd, the young student who had so eagerly exclaimed the figures fate for his fellow student earlier:
“Yeah, will you be looking for volunteers for your next presentation?”
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November 12
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