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_ *CLANG! CLANG! CLANG!* _

Arty groaned, rolling around in his bed and pulling up his pillow over his ears before mashing it against them. Unfortunately, it barely did anything to dampen the constructive cacophony that was happening just outside his house-- a quick peek at his clock from under the covers and his pillows revealed it was only 7:21 A.M. Was nothing sacred?! Who even started construction work this freakin' early in the morning?!

It had already been a thing for a couple of days, and it was _ unbearable _; his neighbor Cassie, an anthro cowgirl on the heavy side, had been renovating her house's bathroom, and because she was a fucking extra bitch, the entire thing had been taken down and was being completely and fully reworked on. The poor fox's peaceful days were gone, replaced by nothing but hammer bangs, drill screeches and truck rumblings. And this fourth morning was one too many.

Internally fuming, he slowly, drowsily rose from his bed, trying to rub the fatigue out of his eyes. Already he had a pounding headache, though he wasn't sure if it was his own body screaming for more sleep or his heart beating in sync with those godforsaken hammers. He sluggishly walked around his house; waking up, getting clean, brushing his teeth, preparing and eating breakfast... If there was one thing Arty didn't like missing out on, it was his properly scheduled week-end's rest. It made him cranky, and evil, and nobody liked him when he was cranky and evil; if he had no sleep, then he would make it everybody else's problem.

Going to his bathroom once again, he looked at his reflection, splashing some cold water on his face to wake himself up more properly; if he confronted the construction workers, he had to look menacing, not half-asleep. Figuring his current appearance was enough, he smoothened his fur and got out of his house.

Being in a pretty comfy neighborhood, the fox's house was literally right next to the cow's. He spotted her walking out her front door, which was perfect; he had a thing or two to talk about.

"What the hell, Cassie?" he began, intercepting her as she closed her front gate, "Could you seriously _ not schedule the construction work later in the day? Or, better yet, you know,_ _ NOT on week-ends?!"_

Despite being only three feet tall, Arty, as a toon, was fierce; a tiny bundle of chaos, who did not let his enemies' size impress him, even if they were as huge as Cassie. Unfortunately for him, it was that very size difference that made the cow girl consider him as insignificant, if not even less.

She let out an annoyed scuff, lowering her head-- her flabby belly was large and protruded forward enough that it almost entirely hid Arty, only his pointy ears poking out into her field of view.

"Or maybe you could just piss off, and spend some time away, like I do. Oh wait, I forgot; you're too stupid to figure out something as simple as that."

Without another word, she turned around and walked away, ignoring the fox's calls. Arty scowled. The two of them had never liked each other; Cassie had this "gift" of hers to be able to make decisions that particularly peeved him, to the point he often wondered if she did it on purpose. This current situation was only one of many, but it was the last straw; he had to figure out how to get this girl out of his life, without giving up his cozy little house and neighborhood.

But, for now, he'd have to settle on at least calming down the construction workers. Walking past Cassie's front gate, Arty headed for the back of the house, where all the work was happening.

It felt like a battlefield. The horrifying whirr of drills that clawed into his brain no matter how hard he tried to plug his ears; the dust clogging his sensitive nose and making him cough; the atmosphere being generally unpleasant. He looked around, stepping across the exposed, dirty ground, searching for... whoever ran this crew, probably? He realized he didn't really have any idea of how he was even going to deal with this issue. Scare all the workers to death? Threaten them? Blackmail them? With what army, even?

He barely avoided a thickset rhino barreling in front of him, carrying heavy bags of... concrete, maybe? Or who knew what else. It was so chaotic around here, the fox even began doubting himself; was anybody really even leading this? Was everybody just working through a checklist of things to do in their own corner?

Suddenly, piercing through the noise, booming pops echoed in the air, powerful enough to make Arty flinch. Looking around for the source, he spotted a mantis shrimp in the distance. A few of the workers abandoned their current task and headed towards him; with a satisfied smirk, the fox knew this had to be a supervisor of some sort.

Closing in on the group, however, he quickly found there was one obvious problem: everybody here was significantly larger than him! Even for his unusually tiny size, Arty didn't find himself having too many problems, yet this time, he barely even reached as high as the shortest workman's knee. The crowd entirely blocked both sight and access to the shrimp, which he could not hear from where he was.

_"Erm-- Excuse me! I'd like to pass through!... Look out below! Coming through!" _

Despite his repeated attempts to make himself known, the poor fox didn't even manage to grab the attention of the rhino he was gently trying to nudge to sneak through.

"Alright that's about it. Now everybody GET BACK TO WORK!"

Arty's eyes widened as he heard the shrimp's loud bark-- he realized what was about to happen but backed up way too late, before the army of construction workers began to march all over him. He found himself trampled, kicked on, shoved around in the mass, rolling across the dirty floor yelping and shouting, yet nobody even noticed his presence. Eventually, he fell into a small, dark, dirty hole, bruised and groaning in pain. He had slipped under a metal pipe, which took most of the space and only made things more uncomfortable. Before he was able to reach up to the hole however a shadow appeared above him:

"HEY! WAIT!" he shouted at the top of his lungs, "I'm still down here!!"

His call was ignored and the hole was quickly plugged. He yelped, lowering his head so as not to catch any dirt in his eyes. The problem, however, was that he was kind of stuck underground, now. Thankfully, because of his size, he could still move... sort of. Squirm and worm his way through this cramped tunnel. Part of him wondered if this day could get any worse; stupid noises which meant no sleep, dumb obnoxious neighbor bitch who was never satisfied with anything, so of course she had to get ridiculous work done on her bathroom or whatever, idiotic careless workers who were apparently deaf, because how else would they have not heard him? And now this crummy dry hole he was rotting into, dragging his fur across the mud, his body progressively shifting to a darker shade as it collected grime. He'd have so much to say about safety violations and how he was downright assaulted when he got out of her...!

After who knew how long of clawing his way through darkness, he finally spotted light in the distance-- salvation! With renewed vigor, through panting and sweating and gasping, he squirmed, pushed, snaked his way further. It was probably another hole in the construction site, but who cared? Any kind of air would be fresh to breathe after what he had just been through. He didn't even know how long it had been since he got stuck down here. Twenty minutes? Three hours? Every drag of his body across the dirt felt like forever.

But finally, he was breaking free. Thankfully, the pipe stopped right before the exit hole, too. Pushing his head out of it, he opened his mouth wide in a desperate gasp...

_ *G H A C K H H!!* _

Only for a thick, long pole to be shoved down his throat. His eyes widened in horror; a pipe had just been forced into his mouth, and he was being pushed back into the hole!

Arty desperately flailed, trying to stop whoever was burying him alive with choked gasps. _"MMRGH! GRRRKL!!" _

His "opponent", however, was way too strong for him, and little by little he was shoved further back in the hole. His progress stopped when he felt something hard slip between his buttocks, poking at his exposed backdoor-- the pipe from earlier!

"Ugh!" An exasperated groan echoed from outside above the hole, "What is up with this pipe?! Just... freakin'... GET! IN! ALREADY!!"

The construction worker punctuated their last words with rough, violent shoves, further burying the poor vulpine. His face was pale as he gasped and sputtered and almost choke on the pipe, before his muscles finally gave in, his anus stretching open wide from the forced intrusion-- the squeal Arty would have let out when the other pipe impaled his butthole would certainly have been strong enough to shatter windows, but all he could manage with so much metal in his throat was a weak gurgle. The pain and discomfort from both ends was almost strong enough to make him pass out, thus ceasing all resistance coming from him.

"Ah, fucking FINALLY!" sighed an angry voice.

A few moments later, a shadow appeared over the hole. Arty watched, powerless, as it promptly got covered, sealing what probably would have been his last chance to escape; he wasn't even sure if he could ever get rid of either pipe in his holes without having any kind of wiggle space. All he could do was let out weak moans and gags, his neck and ass burning with pain. This time, he was certain things couldn't possibly get any worse. Out of options and completely exhausted, the fox felt his eyelids close on their own, consciousness fading away despite the loud noises echoing above him...

When he awoke, the first thing Arty noticed was he was still very much stuck. This dashed away any hopes that any of this had been a horrible nightmare. He had recovered enough strength to wedge a little bit, but there was no way he would be able to get the pipes out of him without outside help. The worst of the two was definitely the one in his mouth: a different shape than the one in his backdoor, much rounder and also wider, forcing his jaw open way beyond acceptable limits. For all intents and purposes he was pretty much another pipe in... whatever system this witch of a neighbor had installed.

At this thought, Arty's eyes widened in horror-- her bathroom system. She was having this side of her house re-built for her new bathroom. The strength at which he was wiggling increased when he realized wastewater was very likely to flow through the pipes he was being stuck on. He had to get out at any cost. Thankfully, however, he heard voices above him, which meant he wasn't too deep underground:

"So this is where we put the hub pipe for the backwater valve. It's all set and ready to go; all you have to do is open this flap"-- a bit of light shines through into a hole in front of Arty --"and you can take a look at it."

During a brief moment, the fox focuses all the power he can manage to send one, desperate scream, squeal, shriek, howl, anything to attract attention. Whatever comes out of his gagged throat however is so quiet the sound of the flap closing is enough to cover it.

"Good. So all I have to do is look at it every now and then to make sure it's not broken or anything?"

"Pretty much, yes; if you ever have sewage back-ups that means your valve is damaged or stuck open, so make sure to check that out."

The fox recognized the voice of his neighbor, Cassie. How typical of her; she wasn't the type to care, which meant she'd likely never maintain whatever this valve thing is. He'd probably die of old age before she gave it a look, so his only chance to get out was to get the construction worker's attention somehow. Gagging, writhing and kicking he desperately tried to reach them... but he could hear their voices disappearing in the distance. Damn it!! He cursed internally; he was so weak and small and insignificant and unremarkable that despite being close enough to hear them, they hadn't heard him.

This meant he was now stuck for the foreseeable future; hours? Days? Maybe months or even years. Surely somebody would notice he disappeared, right? He did live alone, but he wasn't a shut-in; he knew people, he had a routine. He had friends, acquaintances. If anything, maybe his job's boss would eventually get fed up with him being absent and find out he had disappeared when trying to fire him? That felt humiliating to think about, but he'd take anything to get out of this hellhole he was stuck in.

One thing that quickly became obvious, however, was how boring it was to be here. Barely able to move, nothing to look at - not that he could see further than his own snoot - or listen or play with; he couldn't do anything! How was he even supposed to make this situation slightly less insufferable? Daydream into exhaustion? As if.

Time... passed. Poor Arty had no way to tell what was happening, nor to keep track of time. Was it night-time outside? Day time? Dusk, noon, dawn? Even actual highschool classes were less boring. Like that time during math class when he managed to make a makeshift slinger using his eraser and a rubber band. The face his teacher made when--

An odd, peculiar noise reached Arty's keen ears. Something... different, something he never had heard down here before. It sounded like... running water?

Realization dawned on him. His eyes widening in horror, the fox thrashed around in an instinctive, desperate attempt at escaping his impending doom.

"MRRGK! GGH!!"

Freezing water flooded his mouth. His body jerked violently at the physical and mental assault. His insides were quickly tensing up, the gush of fluids way above what he could normally handle-- his throat bulged, almost shooting outward, making him both thankful for his toon physique and resentful to have so much toilet water in his mouth. Despite his refusal to drink he was growing short on air... and couldn't stop his body from reflexively taking a breath, his instincts forcing him to inhale. He coughed and gagged and gasped, his lungs filling with both air and water, solid chunks getting stuck in his throat. The fox's eyes teared up, and he immediately gave in to the accidental waterboard, gulping down the water as fast as he could. The coldness soothed his burning throat, and the clear taste of it felt refreshing-- only for the chunks of filth finally getting unstuck from god-knew-where further above in the pipe to splatter all over his tongue, causing a gag reflex so visceral his fangs almost dented the metal he was stuck to. The horrid taste was worse than anything he had ever tasted, so much so he regretted the taste of relatively clear tap water.

The flow stopped as suddenly as it started, and Arty let out a sigh of tortured relief; the rhythm at which he had to swallow water was way too fast for him to keep up. He feared what would happen, were Cassie to take long showers...

Cassie smiled at her sink; after weeks of waiting, she finally got to set the water running again, and with the clear water that cascaded out of the tap, it was clear everything was perfect. She hummed happily; she thought her annoying, stupid neighbor would get in her hair a few weeks ago, but it appeared he didn't pursue anything. The tiny brat was thus all bark and no bite-- though with being such a puntable size, she wasn't surprised he cowered at the slightest prospect of a fight.

Now that all the problems in her world were gone, she was dying to take a shower. Using her faucet once more, she set the warm water to run, checking the temperature with a few fingers, then smiling when the hot fluids washed over them. Satisfied, she turned it off, before beginning to undress.

Before she could hop into the bathtub, however, her stomach let out an ominous gurgle. The low cramp she felt in her bowels only confirmed her worries.

"Oh, come on! Not now..."

She sighed; as always, spicy food was messing up her stomach. Despite how hard it felt on her insides every single time, she just couldn't help herself, burritos were so tasty! Especially when filled with a piping hot chili-beans mix... Another growl caused her to groan, the cow girl clenching her backdoor. Defeated, she abandoned her bathtub and headed straight for the toilet, phone in hand.

_ *ffsschhBBBRRPPPHPHHHBBLLRRRRRTCH!* _

"Oh, fuck--!"

She winced, gritting her teeth. The moment she relaxed her ass let loose, letting out a thundering wet fart that exploded into a cataclysmic shart splashing all over the bowl's walls. Thick chunks of manure let out loud plops as they dropped in rapid succession.

Despite her powerful unloading, Cassie's bowels gurgled louder. She knew no scrolling on social media was going to save her-- this time was clearly a bad one.

_ *PPHBBRRRRRT! PHBBRROROOOOOOORRRRRBBBBTTH! BRRAAAARRRRRRRRPLTRRTCHHPLRP!* _

Cassie raised her tail with a whine. Not only the violence at which she expelled waste irritated her backdoor, but the flaming blaze of undigested pepper was downright torture, her sensitive flesh ignited as her receptors screamed, overwhelmed by the sudden "change" in temperature. Her thick, wobbling ass was smeared in brown, her fat cheeks forced together to fit in the toilet bowl.

After what felt like forever, she sighed, her body relaxing-- the first wave had passed, but judging by how upset her tummy felt, she knew it was far from being done.

"Gosh, I really hope I don't clog the toilet again," she muttered to herself, flushing the toilet for the first of many times...

That sound of rushing water again. Arty braced himself, whimpering, consumed by the fear of not knowing what was going to hit him. Naively, he prayed it was simply Cassie showering, or washing her hands-- what splashed all over his open mouth, however, had him instantly hurling. The horrifying taste of acrid, smelling feces swallowed his tongue, more solid chunks sticking to his teeth, a few of them even getting stuck between some of his fangs. Barely a sound escaped the fox's mouth as he burst into tears, his throat flooded with bodily wastes. He begged for a miracle. For anything to happen that would deliver him from this helpless torture. For anybody to show up, to drill open the stupid hellhole he had been buried into and get him out of here.

Unable to hold any longer, he gulped down his first of many thick globs of sludge. Even the worst, absolutely most bitter defeat he had endured tasted like a divine delicacy next to the flavor of rotting death that was making its way down his stomach. He gagged, before hurling, his body refusing to accept such vile "food". Unfortunately for the fox, it only made his predicament worse, as his expelled waste, mixed with Cassie's, came right back into his mouth with a revenge. At this very moment he wished nothing but to perish, anything seeming more appealing than what he was dealing with.

The more he was forced to gulp down, the bigger his belly bloated-- the already tight space he was stuck into only felt smaller, becoming downright claustrophobic. His round middle pressed tightly into the surrounding concrete, multiplying the agonizing pressure plaguing his body. After the third wave the poor vulpine had lost count, each additional flush from his clueless neighbor bringing more liquid waste into him. Still, pressure kept building, the fox's rhythm way too slow to keep up with the increasing amounts of filth. Excruciating pain finally hit his middle-- with only one way out left, the anthro's insides were forced open by the payload clogging his stomach, which promptly began making its way through his intestines. He could almost feel it, his bowels uncontrollably clenching in confusion as they tried to resist the unexpected intrusion... expulsion?

After enough slow, agonizing pressure, the filth finally made it all the way through Arty's body; his butthole stretched open, gushing out an unholy mix of bodily fluids and wastes. He couldn't believe his situation could possibly get worse, yet the burning in his nostrils and mouth eventually spread all inside him, clawing through his throat, searing past his stomach, and incinerating his bowels, making his entire intestinal tract a scorching hot lava tunnel and offering him the foretaste of Hell. No matter how much he struggled, no matter how he fought back, squirmed, thrashed, jerked, his body was nothing more than a sewage pipe. Soon, with nowhere else to go but in his insides already filled at what felt like maximum capacity, the pressure finally burst, causing the excess to shoot anywhere it could; it pushed into his body that much harder and blasted out of his asshole all the more violently, while some bits leaked out past his lips each time he hurled, tainting the pipes he was so thoroughly attached to.

His consciousness slowly began to fade, the sensory overload way beyond what Arty could manage...

"Ow, ow, ow, ow... Fuck, this hurts."

Cassie flushed the toilet for a seventh time, the water in the bowl finally becoming clear. She wasn't sure what hurt more between her bowels or butthole, the excessive capsaicin making her feel like her ass had literally caught fire. Surely there was nobody else in the world suffering more than her, she thought, slowly scooting her way back to her bathtub so as to minimize friction around her butthole. Cold water, hot water, nothing helped, rather only further intensified the sharp sting plaguing her backdoor. It took her about half an hour of staying under the shower before she was finally relaxed enough not to pull a muscle whenever water came into contact with her butt. At this point, she decided to extend her "shower" into a full-fledged bath, soapy bubbles and all.

"Maybe, just maybe I should chill on the spicy food from now on..."

She mused to herself, before snorting in amusement; she knew she wasn't kidding anyone. For her, spicy food was love, spicy food was life.

_ *DING DONG!* _

A tired Cassie opened the door. She was slick with sweat and had a plunger in hand, her hair tied up in a ponytail behind her. She was met with a tall, slightly shady wolf woman in a fairly imposing coat. Due to the ongoing storm, she was nearly drenched despite her wide umbrella, the weak shield unable to keep up with such a chaotic downpour.

"Greetings, Ma'am," she opened, reaching inside her coat to pull out a shining badge, "Lizbeth, FBI. I've been running an investigation and have a few questions to ask you."

The cow girl's eyes opened wide with shock. "Um... Sure? What's going on?"

"Your neighbor, a fox going by the name of Arty, has been missing for over three weeks. Since you live right next door, I figured you were one of the first people I'd ask-- mind if I come in?"

Cassie tried her best to hide her annoyment; she didn't want those dirty boots walking around leaving nasty pawprints in her house, but who could deny a law enforcer?

_"... Could've caught me at a better time; I've been trying to get my fuckin' toilet unclogged for over an hour and a half now. But anyway... yeah, come in." _

Stepping aside, she let the wolfess come in. Thankfully, the conversation between the two was very short; Cassie had always disliked her neighbor which, while it did give her a motive in the eyes of the investigator, contrasted with the fact she barely knew him. She had never really cared about the fox and the last time she had seen him was, as she indicated to the agent, a couple days after her home renovations had begun; they simply crossed paths, for she didn't even want to waste time saying hi to him.

The wolfess didn't harass Cassie too much; such blatant indifference was somehow telltale of her honesty, which meant she'd had to look somewhere else. Arty had completely disappeared overnight, and absolutely nothing left behind gave any indication as to what could have happened. Searching his house hadn't turned up a single clue, and interrogating his surroundings proved fruitless. After a couple more hours driving and walking around the neighborhood, Lizbeth eventually flopped back into the seat of her car for the last time this shift; this godforsaken storm had been abominable, and her fur felt so wet sitting down felt like squeezing down several sponges stuck to her body. The water cascaded down the streets, gushing down sewer drains. She sighed again; this kind of weather often meant there would be a sewage back-up, if it hadn't happened already anyway.

Down, down below, much deeper than Lizbeth would have ever thought to look, in a cramped, dark hole of misery, was the very missing fox she had been investigating about. It had been the worst three weeks of his entire life, and somehow continuously getting worse every single hour of every single day. Nothing had been more humiliating than being forced to suck up his beloathed neighbor's house's wastes. And shower water. And tainted water used for boiling fuck-knew-what and that had been removed using a colander and whatever-the-fuck-else. Despite how the various tastes he had experienced thoroughly ruined his palate, Arty could still very much enjoy every bit of flavor coming from Cassie's urine and feces whenever she so thoughtfully graced him with some. He had become a weak, defeated shadow of his former self, his fur having lost its shine and springiness, his eyes losing life. If anything he had "adapted" to his current position due to his toony physique, and was almost suspiciously shaped like a sewage pipe. He was resigned to his gruesome fate, but deep down, he still believed somebody would come to rescue him. He just had to endure, and then, he'd finally be able to sue Cassie; oh, how he gloated internally from the idea of finally getting his revenge, and Cassie ending up jailed for good. Oh, she had it coming alright. The second he'd get out of there he'd make her regret ever crossing paths with him. He had to figure out ways to torment her, but what could possibly be worse than what he had endured? Arty closed his eyes, certain that now, at least things couldn't possibly get any worse. With his body full of sewage water more than blood, he definitely looked and acted the part of a simple plumbing pipe. At least, he could find solace in the fact that some_body, eventually, was going to rescue him, _right?

As if on cue, the sound of running fluid reached his ears again-- yet different this time. More than liquid, it sounded like... slime, mulch, a pulpy mess squelching and splattering its way through the pipes, and headed straight for him.

Disheartened, he braced himself, but what hit him was worse than ever before; Cassie had unloaded into her toilet so violently she had gotten the damn thing utterly and hopelessly clogged, which she had spent the past few hours fixing. After waging war against her bowl with the help of her trusty plunger, she had claimed victory-- unfortunately, Arty was going to be on the receiving end. Days of backed up, gross chunks of hardened feces, mixed with piss and sloppy, mulchy globs of more "recent" cow manure blasted into his mouth all at once. The flavor was something Arty would never forget; etched into his mind for eternity, his palate was so offended his tongue temporarily went numb. He was too grossed out and dazed to even comprehend what was happening to him, unsure of what was coming in (and out of, whenever he could take no more without hurling) his mouth. At this point, he felt like every bit of him was pure filth-- it might as well have been, for his fur was so filthy it didn't even look orange anymore.

No matter how many times he had gone through it, he still couldn't get used to the sickness. His belly felt awful, unable to digest the horrid waste, constantly overworked without even being able to process anything, for eventually the pressure constantly pushed it out from his other end. That was what he was now: a sewer pipe, through and through, taking in his neighbor's waste, and expelling it out his butthole. He could only hope somebody would find him soon... He could only hope.