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Dregs of Humanity Commissioned by Vaughnblondetail Written by Leo_Todrius

The light of early dawn shone over Capital Street, giving the tan and cement buildings a touch of color. It was a highly populated neighborhood on the fringes of the rich and poor side of town, managing to attract people from all walks of life. The east side of the street was bordered with apartment buildings from the fifties, made of brick and with ornamental molding that had worn and eroded over the years. They were latticed by fire escapes like scaffolds and the windows were aged, shining like mirrors into the streets. More people had just gone to bed than were waking up for a day of work, all unaware of what was going on in the city streets, or what was about to happen.

A man moved along the sidewalk at a quick pace, faster than normal but trying to look natural, cautious and worried at the same time. His long trench coat shrouded his frame and green lens sunglasses mirrored back his surroundings. His heart was racing, his mind turning. His entire life had been leading up to this moment... the moment when he would show the capitalists what they really were, how corrupt America truly was. They were all fat pigs drowning in their own filth, and he was going to show them that. Even the location had been carefully selected. The radius would eventually be enough to infect both walks of life and they would see what kind of preferential treatment the rich got... America would finally see.

The man looked both ways before he reached a street corner and opened his jacket, revealing a wide device strapped to his chest. While it had all the components a typical bomb might have, the thick canisters with faintly pink enamel were obviously canisters holding highly pressurized gas. The man pulled the device from his chest and set it down, crouching as he entered the codes. LEDs lit up, vents slid open, the pumps pressurized. The man checked his watch, trying to coordinate with the movements across the country. The infidels would always remember this day. His watch clicked over to six thirty in the morning. It was time.

The terrorist hit the last button and waited for the mist to start, but it didn't. He pressed the button again and started to panic. His fingers moved over the system, double checking the start up procedure. Everything was right; it had to go off... He cursed softly, hitting the device... but nothing happened. He looked around in concern before trying again from scratch. On his third pass through, the last thing he wanted to hear started in the distance; sirens. The man scooped up the device and clutched it to his chest, starting to move back down the street the way he had come, but the sirens grew louder... and more numerous. His contact had sold him out, he had to... The activation code was likely wrong too. He had to get rid of the evidence; he had been wearing gloves... There was no way to link it to him... but the sirens were so close.

The man looked around frantically, moving along the outer edge of the apartment building, realizing one of the windows was opened just a crack... Just enough. His heart skipped a beat before he moved up to the window, looking both ways. He carefully lifted the device to the window sill and slid it in, tilting it down just enough to let it drop to the floor. With luck the jostling would set it off, but if not then it was still out of sight. He turned and broke into a run, not eager to get caught. He rounded the corner, trying to head where he could blend into a crowd and gain an alibi. There wasn't much time, at least for him.

In the apartment, though, the day was still quite young. The thump of the device was enough to awake the room's occupant, a young blonde man. His dark eyes slipped open fuzzily, glancing around. He had a round chin and fair cheeks and his hair was bleached to the color of the sun, falling in smooth waves almost all the way to his shoulders, covering his ears and splitting across his forehead. He was tall and lithe but still had a bit of meat on his bones. If he had lived near the ocean, he would have been a model surfer... but he was far from that.

Vaughn sighed softly at being woken. He rolled over and looked at the clock and then groaned. Sleep was his favorite part of the day because he could get away from reality, at least for a little while. When one didn't have anything to look forward to, nothingness was a blessing. He cursed himself for thinking he could have achieved such peace, least of all where he lived. If there was one thing Vaughn was more unsatisfied with than his own life, it was the other people in the building. He lived under a really untalented punk rocker, next to a father and son that always fought, and across from a chronic babysitter. His apartment was never anything but noise... terrible noise, all hours of the day and night.

Vaughn tried to go back to sleep, figuring the thump was a passing noise... but the cop cars started to pass, blaring sirens of their own, whistling right by the open window. Vaughn muttered another curse and got out of bed, moving over to the window to shut it. His bare feet padded across the carpet as they always had, the young man not even looking where he was going... which proved a mistake as he rammed his foot into something very heavy and made of metal. Vaught stumbled, cursing, flipping back to land on the edge of his bed, grabbing his foot. His eyes moved to the cause of the pain and his entire body froze as he saw it. Sitting on his bedroom floor was what looked very much like an active, blinking bomb...

Vaughn forgot about his pain for a moment and stood back up, moving over, crouching to look at the bomb. Every cable, tube, vent, screws and circuit board looked legitimate. The tanks had caution stickers on them. He didn't recognize the writing on them, but the symbols indicated caution and danger. While Vaughn should have been freaked out, the corner of his lip curled a bit into a wry smile. He knew he couldn't kill himself, but he had no fear of death... and someone had just given him a bomb.

Vaughn reached out and lifted it up, wondering if that was going to be the last mistake he made... but when nothing happened, Vaughn carried it out of his room and into the living room, setting it down on the table. He circled around the table, looking at it in intrigue. He had no idea what the device was, but it was fascinating. As red and blue lights whizzed past the living room window, he was about to curse their noise again before he realized they were so busy... They were probably looking for whatever it was that he had found. Vaughn licked his lips with excitement before he moved to turn the TV on.

"-unable to evacuate the area, fearing that the particulate might effect relief workers. For the time being, the entire region is being quarantines." The reporter said before pausing, holding a hand up to her ear, "I am just being informed that two more cities have been affected... Seattle and Tampa... Authorities are moving quickly, but no news has come in from those regions yet. For those of you just waking up, a terrorist organization has launched a chemical attack on the United States. It appears as of this moment, six cities have been attacked using a concentrated release of a mutagenic compound. Experts cannot say for certain which mutagen was being used and we will bring you more information s it arises." The reporter said, continuing to prattle on.

A map was put up onto the screen showing the affected cities. It was a fairly complete exposure, hitting every major city... except his. Vaughn turned, looking at the bomb again. He held the entire fate of his city in his hands... A terrorist bomb, right there... dropped in his window. It was tantalizing, it was amazing... It was a mutagen. Vaughn had always been a bit despondent when it came to his fellow man, but having that weapon set something off in his brain, as if he'd finally been given a tool to exact revenge for everything that had ever been done to him. Vaughn's dark eyes darted one way and then the other before he moved over, opening every window in the apartment, cracking the front door. The curtains in the apartment blustered around in the breeze, keeping anyone from seeing just what he was doing... but what he was doing was getting a hammer.

Vaughn moved back to the table, taking a deep breath. He knew that the gas could explode if suddenly relieved, that he could lose an arm even... but the world didn't deserve any mercy. No accident was going to keep the plan from going through. Vaughn swung and struck one of the canisters with the curved teeth of the back of the hammer. The metal dented and weakened but didn't break. He swung again and struck... and the tooth penetrated the chamber. A huge plume of pink gas began spewing out, diluting into the air, swirling around the apartment, spilling out of the windows and out into the hall. Vaughn struck the second canister once, twice, and on the third time he breached it. There was a dangerous popping as the canister split down the middle, shooting shrapnel outwards. The thick cloud gushed out in every direction and Vaughn coughed and chuckled... and then the machine started chirping.

The change in pressure had tripped the device and the last tank began being pumped through the device as it was meant to, particalizing perfectly fine. Vaughn picked the bomb up and carried it over to the air duct in the corner of the room, propping it up sideways so the gas sprayed directly into the vent. Vaughn could barely see through the pink fog in his room, but he grinned form ear to ear with a manic, almost crazy grin of delight. He had been given the tools to change the world, and he had. He was a terrorist... and life had gotten a lot more interesting.

****

The days following the release of the gas had been extremely anticlimactic. The news had continued to cover the event in excruciating detail, but they hadn't found anything... The bombs had been recovered with no trace of the gas left in the canisters; the writing was cryptic and unhelpful... Whatever it was had been fully disseminated in all six cities, but nothing had happened. The authorities had even started to guess more than six cities could have been affected, but they wouldn't have known if no one saw because there were no noticeable effects.

For all the glee Vaughn had gotten setting off the bomb, he had grown jaded about the whole thing again, sitting on the couch in the same clothes for the third day in a row, stuffing his face with chips. His shirt was covered in salsa and ketchup stains and crumbs from the chips. Even a smudge of peanut butter was still on his cheek. Vaughn had been eating constantly, even getting up for midnight snacks. He camped out, hoping to hear how awesome he had been... but nothing had been detected in any of the affected regions. After three days of hoping, Vaughn finally gave up hope and turned off his television. He stood up, sending a shower of food debris to the floor. He stretched a bit before he let out a belch, the smell of pickles and corn chips filling his mouth. He licked his lips in delight at the returned flavor before he moved into the kitchen to find something else to eat... but every counter, cupboard and drawer was bare. Vaughn groaned... He'd have to go get more food; there simply wasn't anything to do about it.

The blonde moved to the door, grabbing his keys and slipping on his sandals, sliding his wallet into his pocket last. He eased the door open but froze in disdain. Standing outside his apartment were his next door neighbors. The father was thirty years old with a buzzed head. He wasn't that old, but being a single father had aged him. A few wrinkles crossed his forehead and he was heavier than he should have been. Standing before him was his lanky thirteen year old son with short, curly dark brown hair and a peach fuzz mustache that was darkening up. Both were wearing rumbled clothes as if they had slept in them too.

"You're going to go in there and shave that damn thing off, and then you're going to write a letter to your teacher, apologizing for being so disrespectful! Farting and belching in class, what is wrong with you?" The father yelled.

"What's wrong with you?! You do all those things at home, and what kind of stupid school has rules for facial hair?" The son shouted back.

"I'm a man; I'm allowed to do those things!" The father shouted back.

"Well I'm becoming a man now too!" The thirteen year old exclaimed. The father was about to shout back before he noticed Vaughn's door open. He growled before he moved into his apartment, not wanting to continue it in public. The son gave Vaughn a glance, almost appraisingly. Vaughn locked his door behind him and moved down the hallway, though as the thirteen year old sniffed in his general direction, he glanced back. As he turned, the boy disappeared into his apartment. Vaughn shook his head, moving down the hall, heading to get groceries.

In the apartment, the thirteen year old moved along, skirting past his father, heading toward his room. His hand reached for the door knob on the door marked with a sticker that said 'Jace' but Jace realized he wasn't ready to hold up in his room yet. He felt a heavy pressure in his gut, most likely from all the pizza he'd eaten at school. He'd even stolen other kids to satiate his hunger. Nothing had been enough to feel full, but it was starting to feel like it was time to lay down a deuce.

Jace moved into the bathroom and locked it behind him, moving to stop in the mirror. He turned, admiring his reflection, lifting his head to make the shadow on his stache darker, imagining it as a full mustache. The pride shot right to his boy shaft, making it quiver and throb. Jace moaned softly, dropping his shorts and boxers on the spot. He wrapped his fingers around his cock, starting to tug and stretch on the flesh, fondling and pleasuring himself. He moaned softly, feeling his cock harden and his bowels churn. Jace turned and dropped down onto the toilet, working his cock while he relaxed his muscles in his rectum. As he released, a heavy hot steam began pumping out of his ass. His ass cheeks waggled, making a heavy, wet, sloppy fart... a fart so wet that flecks of brown sprayed the toilet basin... Jace moaned hard, leaning against the water tank on the toilet, his cock in hand as he listened to the orchestrated whine of his own fart. It was like music to his ears, and the methane stink that began pooling up was so potent that it was like cologne. Jace inhaled it sharply, breathing deeper and faster until his throat was so hyper active that he even snorted.

After almost a full minute, the fart came to an end... but it was far from the end of his bathroom activities. With the gas damn vacated, nothing was holding in the rest. Jace shuddered as he felt his entire intestinal system evacuating at the rate of a bullet train. A thick snake of shit began pushing out of his ass, plunging into the water, circling around like ribbons, building up more and more. Jace kept shitting, his body's fluid levels shifting, his eyes rolling into the back of his head. He worked off his manhood d as he shit... and shit... and shit... and shit. It came for minutes, steadily, constantly, before at last it stopped.

Jace wobbled, feeling light headed. He moved to stand slowly, grabbing onto the towel rack for support, his hard cock thwacking against his balls as he stood and turned around, his eyes widening. He had shit so much that the water level had risen almost to the rim, displaced by a huge mound of ribbons of shit. Jace gasped and snorted a bit as his cock pulsed and thick ropes of cum drizzled down his legs and shorts and all over the floor. He truly was a man, only a man could shit that much... and he was damn proud. For some strange reason, Jace almost wanted to take a photo of it. He licked his lips, but a thumping at the door soon disrupted his reverie.

"Boy, you better come out of there right now, I gotta use the dumper!" His father shouted. Jace growled a bit like his father, pulling his shorts back up. He unlocked the door and stormed out. His father stumbled in, barely able to hold onto the contents of his intestines. He grunted as his foot stepped into something slick and warm, but he thought nothing of it before he dropped his pants, sat down, and unleashed a flabby, reverberating, wet fart. It was so loud that it echoed off the walls and the methane in the room grew even stronger. The father kept shitting before he sighed, leaning back, "Oh yeah Rios, that's the stuff." He murmured.

Rios sighed before he began to shit, unleashing his feces onto the already large pile, unaware of just how large it was... until the toilet water started running over the edges and he felt something hot pressing against his backside. The string of curses were so loud that they could be heard two floors up and well out onto the street as well.

****

Vaughn trudged up the steps of the apartment, moving in the open door, weighed down with multiple cloth bags on every arm and even a light one around his neck. He'd spent way more money than he had expected, but everything in the store had seemed so delicious, it was impossible to ignore. He waddled along with his bounty, pausing to notice his upstairs neighbor at the bank of mail boxes. Clay was twenty two and an aspiring musician. He had a tall, neon green Mohawk, buzzed head, black mutton chops and... Well, he had a lithe body the last time Vaughn had seen him, but it was like he had gained several pounds and the rest of his body hadn't gotten the message. His shirt didn't cover all of his stomach which seemed a bit rounded. His arms were thicker, but not with muscle and his tight jeans were tight enough that he apparently couldn't have gotten them all the way up. At least four inches of ass cleft was visible.

Vaughn paid it little mind and moved along, returning to his apartment, trying to unlock the door without dropping anything. There was a giggling from down the hall as three ten year olds came charging along. Adam, Brody and Ford... Three hellions form the building that always came down to be babysat by Miguel Sanz, a twenty year old always looking for a little extra money. It was a veritable zoo, but what Vaughn couldn't figure out was why the ten year olds were still in their pajama clothes. It was as if they hadn't even gone to school. He moved into his apartment, easing his door shut just as the ten year olds banged on Miguel's door. A few moments passed before the door swung open, revealing a man with curl black hair and pizza sauce all over his shirt. He looked at the boys before inhaling, letting out a bit of a snort.

"I made you guys some mushroom soup, chips and dip, lasagna, cookies, and cake. I hope you're hungry!" Miguel said with a grin.

"We are!" Ford said, the ten year old hugging Miguel around the waist, nuzzling his face against his baby sitter's swollen belly. The other boys soon joined in, snuggling all around. Miguel moaned softly, running his hands across their heads, holding them there and embracing the moment before all four headed indoors. The table was loaded down with food and the ten year olds piled into the hairs, reaching out with the bear hands, grabbing at hunks of cake, fists full of cookies and even dipping their fingers in the dip. Ordinarily Miguel would have been terrified of the mess, but today... it seemed like boys being boys. He looked at them all with joy.

Brody has soft brown hair and green eyes, where as Adam was blonde with blue eyes. That left Ford with the milk chocolate toned skin and short black hair. All three were scarfing away, getting food smeared all over their faces and dripping it down their shirts. Brody paused in his eating for a moment when he felt a pressure in his ass. He closed his eyes and bore down before forcing it out as a far. Miguel smirked at that.

****

Vaughn moved down the hallway, waddling a bit more than usual. He'd eaten so much that his stomach was a bit distended. On his lithe body, it almost looked as if he was a touch pregnant... though that was far form the case. He hadn't wanted to leave his apartment, but he was over due and he didn't want any rude interruptions, least of all from his landlord. Jonas Clark was an alright man... First of all, it was fascinating to have a gay landlord even if he was anal about cleaning... But it was even more interesting that the landlord's boyfriend was almost eight years younger. It was a bit of an age gap. Vaughn had always liked Jonas's boyfriend. Isaac was far more down to earth and a bit sloppy, both things Vaughn liked very much.

Vaughn came up to the door and knocked on it, waiting for a response. At first he thought the landlord wasn't home, but a constant thumping echoed against the wall. Vaughn considered for a moment before knocking again... only this time the door clicked from being ajar and eased open. Vaughn leaned his head in only to see something he had never expected to see. Jonas was panting, his hands holding onto Isaac's legs over his shoulders, fucking his boy toy. Vaughn backed up and all but ran back down the hallway, not wanting to look a second longer. If he had, he would have realized things were far out of the ordinary. In just a few short days, the apartment had really started to slip. Jonas's system of organization hadn't been used. Piles of clothes and dishes were everywhere. The landlord was unkempt and slobby, stubble growing out; his stomach bulged with too much food. It would have been like if he had traded places with Isaac, but Isaac hadn't gotten any cleaner. If possible, he had gotten messier.

As the cock slammed in and out of his ass, Isaac lifted a bottle of chocolate syrup and opened his mouth, letting the syrup fall a foot or two into his mouth where he guzzled it down. Jonas swatted the syrup away before he leg Isaac's legs down his sides and leaned in to kiss his boyfriend. The two exchanged a messy, chocolate covered kiss, their tongues wrestling wildly, the two unable to stop fucking or eating, lost completely in lust and gluttony.

****

Vaughn rolled over in his sleep, his face brushing his spare pillow. His lips twitched and opened as the corner of cloth slipped into his mouth. Soon he started to gnaw and chew on the fabric in auto pilot, tugging on it, gnashing it with his teeth before the fabric started to tear and split. It wasn't until Vaughn got a mouth full of cotton that his eyes opened up in surprise. He spit out his pillow and groaned softly, feeling the suddenly intense pressure on his gut. It felt like he hadn't gone to the bathroom in a week... It was so much that his belly had pushed out more just to mach room. Vaughn moved to sit up, but as he did, he felt the hot, greasy, slick feeling inside his colon... The feeling of a shit that was almost too wet to move... It was by body position alone that he was keeping it in, but he couldn't just stay in bed, he had to get rid of it. Vaughn looked at his bedroom door. It was open, thankfully, but the bathroom was a short distance past his door. It would be a gamble, a long shot, but he had to try.

Vaughn took a deep breath before he rose to his feet and darted for the door. Each step compressed his gut... and then he felt the hot wet gas start spraying from his ass, the fart resonating through the apartment with such force that the fat in his ass jiggled like Jell-O. He tried to hold the rest of his bounty in, hoping that the fart had made more room for the rest, but it wasn't working that way at all. A strange sense of shame and pleasure crossed Vaughn's face as he stumbled along, feeling thick, soft scat starting to leak out of his ass, pushing out between his cheeks, pushing against his underwear and sliding down toward his legs. It was thick enough it wasn't yet soaking through his pants, but the pressure in his gut was still growing. He passed over the threshold to the bathroom, thinking for a moment that he'd have the chance to get to the toilet before he fully let loose, but that wasn't the case. The last containment failed and he felt thick tubes of brown coming out of his ass like a soft serve machine. It was like thick bubbling mud, releasing methane as it came out, thickening further and further, bulging out his underwear before it started leaking down his pant legs.

It had been rather lazy and slobby, but Vaughn hadn't changed his clothes in a week. Every food stain was there, every bit of body odor... and now every bit of shit. The worst part was that one of his pant legs had gotten tucked into his socks. His right pant leg began to fill with the thick shit like a water balloon while everything that ran down the left oozed all over the floor, spreading out like a slow mud slide. Vaughn stood in the middle of his bathroom, moaning almost like he was orgasming... and in a way he was. His body was working hard to pump out every ounce of shit and thick logs were coming out, crumbling and squishing into his pants. The rush was strange and exhilarating. The brown flowed down around his legs, steady and thick, plopping onto the floor.... It was a complete, unmitigated mess... and it felt so good.

Vaughn moaned even more before he decided there was no point in resisting. He relaxed every muscle in his body and soon the front of his pants grew yellow with even more hot wet as his piss flowed down to meet the shit. In a strange way, it was almost liberating to defecate himself so fully... but he knew in the back of his mind that something was wrong, that something was out of place.... He kept going, without stopping, without fail. Vaughn moaned more and more, feeling the excrement ooze between his toes. He wiggled them and shuddered, mashing the brown between his feet. It was like being a kid in the mud, but so much worse. Then the pressure on his right leg breached his socks, pushing the cuff out of the tight cotton. No longer restrained, a thick flow of feces rushed out over his right foot as well; making sure it matched the left, both covered.

The waste kept coming. Moments became minutes and minutes became much longer. It was almost a half hour before Vaughn's flood finally stopped. He wobbled in the after glow before one eye opened, then the other. Ever so slowly he looked around the bathroom, realizing he had flooded every corner, every inch, the whole thing... and it made him oddly proud. He'd marked his territory; he'd made all that mess. It was all him. Vaughn grinned wide, looking over to the mirror... but then he paused, noticing something out of the ordinary.

The blonde took a step, then another, coming to look at his reflection more closely. He knew something was wrong, but it took him a moment to realize the tip of his nose was raised higher than usual, exposing his nostrils a bit more. Not only that, but the tops of his ears had pushed up into slight points and the back edge had widened out a bit. Vaughn reached up to feel his nose, then his ears, his jaw hanging open as he did... but then he noticed even his lower canine teeth were longer, taller... almost like fangs or... tusks.

His brown eyes widened in shock as he started putting it all together. Ears, nose, tusks, filth... It was everything a pig was, a capitalist American pig. The symbolism clicked into place, realization dawned on him. The mutagen was turning everyone into slobby, nasty pigs... and he was patient zero, the first exposed in the apartment. Vaughn slowly grinned, feeling a surge of excitement. It hadn't been a waste, he WAS a terrorist. He had thrown a wrench into the system... and all of his neighbors were going to become nasty pigs too. Vaughn grinned in great delight. That delight soon became something more as blood rushed to his shaft.

Vaughn removed the button on his pants, letting them fall into the lake of shit, his boxers soon to follow. He reached to grab his cock, though flecks of brown coated it from the cross contamination. That only turned Vaughn on more as he grabbed his cock and worked it hard, sliding his hand up and down quickly, feverishly. With his left hand he lifted his nose up more, making it more like a snout, grunting and grinning with satisfaction. It didn't take long for his cock to quiver and let out thick ropes of cum all over the place, spraying down his bathroom with his manliness.

****

As the days trickled by, the mutagen was taking a stronger and stronger impact on those affected. No place had it been more apparent than in Miguel's apartment. No one had come to pick up the boys, leaving them with Miguel... And Miguel had been both prepared and happy to take care of the boys. He'd made them meal after meal before passing out cold on the couch after a third feast. His rounded belly and his thick man tits rose and fell, jiggling gently in time with his heart, his skin glistening with grease. His showed all the signs of his meal making on his shirt. A sickly sweet odor emanated from his pants, hinting at his ultimate degree of slovenliness, but he was hardly the sloppiest male in the apartment.

While Miguel had been sleeping, the boys had eaten everything in sight, then things that weren't in direct sight. The fridge door was propped open with Adam sitting in front of it, tipping back a jug of buttermilk, his legs propped up on the crisper drawers with sheets of fat hanging down. Still, he was trumped by Brody who was eating butter by the stick, gulping it down. It was almost possible to watch the fat translate to his cheeks and chins. Ford was moving around on all fours, sticking his face under the counter. He had rooted out all the mushrooms in the fridge and was chomping them down, adding to his already over-full belly as he licked the floor for morsels. All three boys had been eating for almost two days straight... and it was showing.

Despite only being ten, they had passed two hundred and fifty pounds hours ago. Their bellies were so full and round that they pushed out over their laps. Their arms and legs were like tree trunks and they had added extra chins on, resting against their swelling boy tits... but they hadn't just been getting fatter, other changes were taking root. Their fingernails and toenails had turned from white to brown, hardening and thickening. Their toes had started to grow together and their ears were stretching out into those of piglets. They snorted and sputtered as they ate, never getting enough... Occasionally they snatched food form one another to get a taste, but if it could be swallowed, they were taking it down.

****

Heavy snorting came from Clay's bedroom as he sat on the end of his bed, hunched forward, his ass cheeks wide. The punk rocker moaned, grabbing and tugging on his nipples as if he were milking them. Thick ropes of thick, soft shit pushed out of his anus, spiraling across the bed. The sheets and blankets had been torn off the mattress and turned into a sort of nest or barrier, allowing the shit to build up in the center. Clay's Mohawk had been stained brown, so had his chops, even his skin in splotches. His entire apartment was trashed. The blue carpet was brown, the white tiles were brown, and the sinks were full of yellow. He'd spent an entire day hosing down his apartment, making it the very sty he wanted... and his bed was the last spot to filthify.

Clay snorted and grunted in delight, his face aching and throbbing. His nose turned up more and more, the nostrils facing forward before it pushed out on the bottom, making the snout flush. His lower lips bulged out of the way as two thick tusks pushed out, curving up and along the sides of his lips, sticking up almost all the way to his nose. His ears had fanned out into the vague triangle shape of pigs, but the strangest change came from the ass that was letting out the torrent of shit.

His cheeks quirked and quivered as his tailbone pushed away from his pelvis, new bones growing in between the old... but as they grew, the stretching tube of flesh began to curve, then curl, then spiral... In an almost comically ironic fashion, the punk rocker developed a very stereotypical corkscrew tail. As the tail reached its zenith, the flood of filth came to an end. Clay let out a grunt before he turned and dove onto his bed, splashing the mud like filth all over. He grabbed hands full of it and rubbed it over his belly and his chest, pushing it under his arms, basking in it, letting it soak in even as his toes grew together and his toenails spread, covering the fused toes to make cloven hooves. His fat belly rounded further, shit collecting in the belly button. The grime even got in his foreskin, coating his cock outside and in. Clay snorted and belched and farted, making a symphony of noise in his worship. It was good to be a pig in filth.

****

Heavy, resounding snoring filled Rios Ortega's apartment. Rios had never been an exceptionally large man... at least not before the gas had been released. He'd been a father before he was of age, and then his girlfriend had left him with Jace. Jace had proved to be as hot headed as his mother, but after a fiery few teenage weeks... the two had started to get along better. They shared their meals, which were constant and they had started to work out better bathroom alternations. Best of all, they had started to enjoy naps together. It would have been sweet... if they had not been corrupted by a terrible mutagen.

Rios had changed the most of the two, having converted almost every food stuff they had into pure food or feces. He had grown well past five hundred pounds of pure fat and bone. No shirt would fit him, no pants, no socks... Only a worn out pair of swim trunks came short, but even those had torn... So Rios lay naked on the floor of his apartment, reveling in his sleep for the moment. His huge man tits and belly wobbled with the slightest movement and his snoring sent waves through the lard. His ass was as wide as the love seat in the living room, and pairs of his fingers had grown together, giving him two wide fingers and a thumb on each hand. Even his fingernails had spread out to cap the digits with cloven hooflettes. His nose had upturned and bristly fur speckled his shaved head, back, neck and ass... Even a tiny curly queue tail twitched as he dreamed.

Lying on his chest, Jace had changed just as much. His first mustache had split off to the sides of his snout, perfectly piggish by now. His ears were long and sallow, his body was bloated with fat... Only the head of his cock stuck out from under the apron of weight. He was three hundred and eighty pounds, almost caught up to his father... yet somehow, there was still a faint bit of piglet about him. In his sleep, he moved over closer and closer to his father's nipple before his lips spread over and he started to suck. His father, being a male, did not produce anything but a grunting noise as he woke up. He snorted and looked down at his son trying to feed from him. He chuckled.

"Is my poor little boy hungry?" Rios asked, his voice oddly gruff. Jace nodded, not releasing the nipple. Rios chuckled again, "I'll feed you son, but food doesn't come from out there." Rios said, pulling Jace off. Jace rolled and flopped back a bit as Rios moved, rolling onto all fours, hiking his ass in the air. If he hadn't been quite so fat it would have been a real effort, but his belly was large enough that he could lay on it like a platform, holding up his ass. His bristly cheeks spread wide, releasing a sour scent and reverberation as a fart escaped. The foul scent hit Jace's snout and he inhaled it in before shuddering. It was the most delicious thing he'd ever smelled.

Jace crawled forward, snorting and grunting, moving on his altered hands and knees, his tail shaking as he started to nuzzle between his father's ass. His huge pig snout made it easy to smell the remnants of the shit, the tantalizing crap that he craved. His lips parted and his tongue emerged. He delicately slathered his tongue upwards through the ass cleft before he focused in on Rios' pucker, teasing the ring of muscle. He licked and slobbered on it before daring to dive deep. The tongue slipped in and Jace moaned, tasting more potent remnants... but he wanted more. Soon his delicateness and shyness faded as the tongue pistoned in and out, trying to mine anything from his father's posterior he could manage.

Rios moaned, loving the feeling of his son rimming him. It felt as if it was something they had always been missing... but Rios knew his duty, it was time to feed his son. He started to bear down, compressing and pushing. Jace felt something hot and soft pushing against his tongue, melting in his saliva, releasing a woody, earthy, nutty taste. He moaned harder and pulled his tongue back, latching his lips onto the pucker before the crap pushed past his lips and across his tongue, filling the boy's mouth with every raunchy inch.

At first Jace let the human pudding melt across his tongue, but soon he couldn't resist biting into it. His teeth came down through the filth, the brown staining the teeth and gushing between the crevices. He chewed and gulped, letting it flow down his throat to his stomach. He swallowed again and again, taking down more, pushing his face tighter against his father's ass... and his father jus kept shitting. Rios grunted and snorted like a pig in heat, feeling wonderful to be such a provider for his son. He'd never felt so male... Blood gushed into his cock, the rod hardening beneath his apron of fat before it forced its way free, dripping and throbbing. It wasn't until it began dripping musky seed onto the floor that Jace could smell it, and knowing his father was in heat, he wanted to help.

Jace reached through the miniscule crevice of Rios' thighs to curl his fingers around his father's shaft and start to stroke it up and down. Rios grunted in surprise and started to thrust against his son's hand, unaware of any better pleasure than what he was currently doing. Jace, however, continued to gulp down his father's nutty shit... and to change further from the nourishment. In his whole life, Jace had always looked like a blend of his mother and father. His father had been a slightly over-weight Latino man with a shaved head and face. Jace was fairly light skinned, but as he gulped down the shit, his mustache was turning black, his hair was turning black and his skin was taking on a darker color. At first it seemed tanned just like his father, but soon it was splotchy like a pig... the sort of pig Jace was becoming. His jaw ached and throbbed as it pushed forward, his snout extending, his face pushing into a muzzle. His tail spiraled longer, his ears lengthened and his fingers finished their fusion into a part pig, part human configuration.

Jace snorted and oinked as he gulped down the shit, moving to smear it all over his face and get it in his hair. He was proud to be his father's son, proud to embrace his father completely. His genetics had changed, eliminating his mother's code and replacing it with that of a pig, leaving only his father in its stead. Soon Jace shuddered, his immature cock spurting ropes of cum as he orgasmed... and then collapsed. Feeling his son drop to the floor, Rios decided to give his cock a good work out. The massive overweight hog man rounded around Jace, coming up behind him. He brought his cock over his son's plump, jiggling ass, hovered for a moment and then came down on him. Jace wheezed as the air was squished form his lungs, but he felt the cock spear into his depths. He shuddered in surprise to feel something going up his ass after everything else had gone out, but knowing it was his father, he fully embraced it.

Rios began to push in and out of Jace, mounting his own son, his own genetics, pig on pig. Their bodies were caked and smeared with feces and sweat, their bellies and bodies shaking with their efforts. Jace squealed in delight at what wondrous pleasure he felt. Soon they were like a giant Jell-O mold, shaking away, working their stuff. Jace felt wonderful, absolutely divine, but there was one thing that he thought could make it better; shit. It was that waste that made life better, made everything better... So he started to relax his anus. Soon, in the midst of searching for a prostate, Rios began to feel soft, wet muddy shit pushing against his cock. His shaft was so achingly hard that it churned the stuff like butter, enriching it within Jace, making him moan and scream out in pleasure. The two kept going at it, rutting wildly,

With each thrust, Rios felt more of his humanity slipping away. His mind began to grow blind to the distinctions of son; his brain stopped having thoughts unrelated to pleasure. All he craved was satisfaction, and as he became resolute in that, his face pushed forward into a muzzle, his tail thickened, his body hair grew more bristly, his belly swelled and his ears stretched. He was still a pig man, but far more pig than he had been before. All restraint on his ass was released, leaving the hog king to defecate on himself as he mounted his offspring, his lower jaw pushing out as two thick tusks rose up on either side of his muzzle, making him a formidable male... Though Jace had the start of tusks as well. Even as young as he was, the tusks were impressive... and so was the odor the two had produced.

****

The sounds of smashing and banging came from the landlord's apartment as chairs were hurtled out of the way. Jonas Clark snorted, his chest heaving, his thick thighs wobbling as he stood, looking at Isaac where he blocked the kitchen. Their nice place had been reduced to rubble and filth, but surprisingly it had been Isaac that had pulled out of the spell. He'd tried to keep his boyfriend from changing further, but the efforts were not going well.

"Can't you see? Something is wrong Jonas! This isn't like you!" Isaac said. Jonas snorted and tried to get past, but Isaac moved to block him. Isaac hadn't grown nearly as much as his formerly fastidious boyfriend but he was still big enough. After sliding several feet, Jonas came to a stop. Isaac looked into the darkened eyes of his boyfriend before he leaned up to kiss him, pulling back a moment later, "Doesn't that mean anything to you?" Isaac asked.

"It means time to fuck." Jonas grunted and snorted.

"Jonas, this isn't right..." Isaac whispered, "Please, look into my eyes; tell me you feel it too. I was slobby, you were clean. That's the way it was." Isaac whispered. Jonas' eyes lowered to the floor and his hands lowered to his sides. It was as if he was starting to contemplate. Isaac relaxed, taking the opportunity to rest his muscles. He smiled a little more, thinking he was finally getting through to his boyfriend. What he didn't see was what was going on behind Jonas' back.

The former landlord reached back, his hand brushing the starts of his spiral tail as he dipped his hands into his pants, plunging into the lake of filth that was inside. His fingers collected the shit, cupping it carefully before he brought it up and out, holding it like a mud ball. Jonas reached out and hugged Isaac around the shoulder with his left arm and Isaac murmured in delight, but then Jonas brought his other hand up, forcing it against Isaac's face. Isaac squealed and snorted and coughed and choked, but the shit had gone everywhere... Across his lips, in his mouth, up his nose. It was dripping from his chin in thick sloppy bits. Jonas rubbed it in, smearing it across Isaac's face before he pulled his hand back.

Isaac gasped for breath, tusks starting to poke out of his mouth as his nose upturned. He panted and then squealed, dropping down onto all fours, running around Jonas to claw at his pants. Jonas snorted back in glee, glad that he had been able to get through to his boyfriend. He put up little struggle and soon the pants tore, unleashing their flood. Isaac basked in the brown shower, getting it all over before he began eating from the source, cleaning up Jonas' ass. Jonas grabbed at the puddle spreading beneath them and smeared it up over his man tits and belly, basking in it all in delight. The two continued to squeak and grunt and roar in pleasure as they changed, losing even more of their control. As far as their asses were concerned, they no longer had the ability to clench. It was all coming out with no end in sight.

Isaac ate from Jonas for some time before he thrust his body up onto his boyfriend's back, listlessly humping his ass until his cock was erect enough to spear in. Jonas charged and ran around but Isaac was right there, fucking him hard, the two porkifying more by the second. They ground in madness, working faster and harder, their fat shaking and jiggling enough to throw off a Richter scale. They were beasts, not a shred of man left... and they were not the only ones.

****

Thick cloven hands came down along the carpet, a thick leathery snout sniffing the hallway. Beady black eyes gazed around from a pig face shrouded in a thick bushy black bristles. The pig man was still unique because of the crest of brown hair coming from his head; the vestiges of a Mohawk... but Clay had gone very much to the pig end of the spectrum. He was six hundred pounds of fat, each portion of his body exaggerated and mocked by the lard he carried. His chins had chins, his biceps had pounds of fat, his hands and feet seemed outpaced. Brown constantly drizzled from his cheeks, leaving a thick gushy trail. His cock was pushed down so far by his belly it almost dragged on the carpet and his tits sagged, swinging like the pendulums of a grandfather clock. Clay was a beast, a monster, and he was in search of prey.

He reached one door and sniffed the air, then sniffed it again. The huge hog could smell four males, four delicious males. He lowered his head and rammed it, sending it splintering to the floor. Inside, the three piglets squealed in shock, scrambling away from the fridge. Clay sized up the darkest piglet before he charged to fuck one, bearing his tusks, but before he could mount Ford, he was ploughed into the side by Miguel. The piglets disappeared into the back room as the two hogs rolled and crashed through the dining room table, over twelve hundred pounds between them. Clay tried to get up, but Miguel moved to shove him onto the floor and straddle his backside before he got his cock aligned and thrust in.

The would-be attacker had been attacked and was now being mated. Clay squealed in shock and dismay, but he couldn't force Miguel off. The assault continued lewdly, sloppy sounds as the thick hogs rutted uncontrollably. Miguel ground more tightly, feeling protective of the piglets as he fucked the intruder. The room was full of the sound of rutting. Brody tried to hold out, but Clay's cock was too expert for him. Soon he let out an ear piecing squeal as he came, yellowed thick musky cum filling the former punk's maw. Miguel squealed filling Clay until the punk rocker came as well, collapsing in a six hundred pound heap. Miguel grinned, glad he had bested the intruder... but it wasn't enough. He needed more fun, and he knew right where to get some.

****

It was almost impossible to see through the mirror in Vaughn's bathroom through the sheen of milky yellow it had picked up, but it was still enough for Vaughn to admire himself. Is fingers circled his tea cup saucer sized nipples and his sausage sized tips before he grabbed his man tits and sent them a jiggling. The fat wobbled and shook, flowing from spot to stop without stopping. It was as if gravity and inertia had no hold, no sway, no way to stop them at all. Even without them stopping, Vaughn started to rub his hands over his massive belly. He was surprised the skin had stretched as much as it had. His belly was beyond even a beach ball in size. He had grown to a fine hog of almost seven hundred pounds. He'd broken part of the door frame to his bathroom just so he could get in and out. His belly sagged over his lap, sides and ass. His cheeks were the size of a dinner able and his legs were much thicker than telephone poles, but despite all that, he was still Vaughn.

A mop of bleach blond hair draped over his piggish head, his triangular pig ears sticking out through the hair. His snout was large, his tusks were thick, but his eyes still had the mischievous, elusive look. The brown eyes and blond hair was an unusual combination for an unusual man... Especially one with shit smeared across his lips. The bathroom that had been so dirty before was almost clean now merely from Vaughn's lusts. He was eager to feed and eager to self appreciate. His tail quivered as he thought about pleasure, completely in love... And then he heard a crash in the living room.

The front door came slamming down as Miguel came charging in, his eyes flaring with lust. Sensing a threat, Vaughn moved out just in time to catch Miguel. Miguel's tongue whipped about wildly, trying to insert itself into Vaughn's mouth. Vaughn held him at bay but slowly tipped backwards. He stumbled and collapsed in a heap with the babysitter on top of him, rolling and tumbling until he was sitting on the babysitter's head... but he never felt like saying no to some tongue action. He bore down and gave Miguel a wet fart for his troubles, one Miguel inhaled deeply. Vaughn tried to get back up, but the force of so many hundreds of pounds of pig soon brought him right back down onto his knees, only making it easier for Miguel to orient himself. The tables had turned as he gazed up to see Miguel's greasy cock. Vaughn opened his mouth wide, but even then it wasn't quite wide enough.

His lips stretched over the thick head of Miguel's cock. Vaughn could make out so many flavors of mud and slime and slip, food and shit and cum. He sucked on it gently at first, then eagerly, then like a starving man. Vaughn couldn't stop even if he wanted to... Miguel grabbed Vaughn's blond hair, feeling how bristly it had become, stroking it all the same... at least until he was rammed forward, feeling a cock in his own ass. A shadow fell across the door before Clay appeared. The riled hog had chased him down and soon grabbed the hog's massive love handles, holding him in place before he slammed in. Clay thrust into Miguel, Miguel thrust into Vaughn, Vaughn thrust into his hand. Pig cocks slid in and out of mouths and asses, covered in saliva and shit, pulsing and fluctuating. It would have been brilliant, though snorts from outside indicated it wasn't yet over. A huge snout moved into the room, then another beside it.

Jonas and Isaac pushed into the room, covered in so much feces that they were caked in brown. Jonas squealed in pleasure before he charged, lunging and latching onto Clay, thrusting into his ass. Clay squealed out in surprise, but even more as Isaac started to grab Jonas and mount him again. Two more cocks had joined the gray, fucking in and out without fail, without stop, without resolve. It was a complete orgy, a complete chaos. They were unstoppable. Sweat and shit dripped, cum leaked, tongues slathered all over the place. They were fucking their brains out, literally as well as figuratively... all except for Vaughn.

The blonde pig could feel the tug of his baser instincts, he could see those he was with becoming mere animals... but some small, perverse part of him clung onto the idea that he had done this, that he was to credit. He had turned his apartment building into beasts, into pigs, into filth fiends and sex hounds. They were all having sex with him. Vaughn didn't feel jaded anymore, he couldn't. He'd achieved something great, something wondrous... and he's never be lonely again. Vaughn reached out to stroke Miguel's belly, his hands getting lost in the folds of fat. The pigs were all so thick that they nearly wedged into the hall, their bellies scraping both walls. Their snouts sniffed, their tails quirked. It was truly something to see.

Minutes gave way into hours and the sun began to set. The curtains lit up with the salmon light of evening, but still the pigs fucked and sucked. It was Adam who came first, spraying all over Vaughn's legs. Followed by Isaac. Feeling cum in his ass, Jonas pumped his seed into Clay and Clay went off like a firework. While Miguel's ass quivered and pulsed, drawing in the seed, it was Vaughn who came next. Miguel came next, filling Vaughn's mouth with so much sperm that it leaked out of his pig snout, dribbling like snot even as the pig man came himself. One by one, all of the pigs had cum, sharing their bounty with each other... and it was only the beginning.

****

Television lights shone brightly on the plastic sheeting that had been rolled up around Capital Street. Several blocks had been cordoned off even though it was uncertain if the mutagen could be passed on after the initial exposure. News trucks had gathered to report the latest string in the terrorist attacks, now that the affected victims had been revealed to be turned into pigs. It was a serious blow to America and the assumption that nothing had happened had been termed the 'Swine Flub'. Still, fearing their own infection, producers had sent the junior correspondents out into the field to make the reports. For Sam Welles, this was not a problem.

At twenty two years old, the young man looked quite pristine in his green and black Northface jacket, complimenting his naturally red hair and faintly freckled cheeks. His eyes were a brilliant emerald green as well. He was five foot eleven and a hundred and twenty pounds... and very excited. His camera man, wearing a surgical mask, was counting down with his fingers to the live broadcast. Five, four, three, two -

"This is Sam Welles with channel two news. I am standing outside the most recent quarantine zone in the growing mutagen attacks. While most city centers attacked had eye witnesses, this neighborhood behind me had no warning. Surprisingly, this is the smallest inclusion zone attacked. Some scientists assume it is because the particalizer used did not work properly... but without eye witnesses or evidence, everything is still a theory at this point. Join me at ten when we have interviews with the field commanders. Back to you Sally." Sam said. The lights went off; the camera man moved back to the van and closed up, leaving Sam outside and alone.

There were news vans every so many feet, but Sam had been in the neighborhood for a few hours. He'd had a chance to scope out, to look around... and even find a weakness in the quarantine barrier. Sam all but scoffed at his camera man. He was so afraid to take risks, to be bold... But investigators had to be bold, and it was already paying off for Sam. He'd made it inside; he'd made contact with one of the infected. He was going to blow the news world wide open by being the first to do a live investigation, but his contact was wary of being on TV... he had to be groomed a bit more by Sam to be willing, Sam had to do whatever it took.

The reporter pulled off his green jacket and set it aside, revealing just the sleeveless gray shirt he wore beneath. He skirted along the quarantine line, moving to a wood column set up in the middle of the street to keep the plastic in place. It hadn't been secured correctly. Sam pulled the plastic back and squeezed into the pylon, edging between the ribs of wood and metal, sliding along the inside of the double plastic wall, heading for almost twenty feet back the way he had come before he emerged at one side of the street, popping out between the layers of plastic. Sam grinned at his own ingenuity before he moved up the deserted street, heading toward the apartment building. As he rounded the corner, he paused, feeling a slight vibration beneath his feet.

"Back for more, little boy?" A growling voice came. Sam turned around, coming face to chest with Vaughn. Sam looked up at the pig's deep brown eyes, and then he looked down at the big bowl of brown pudding in Vaughn's hand, along with the huge serving spoon.

"If I do this, you'll answer questions truthfully?" Sam asked. Vaughn grinned.

"I'll do whatever you want once you're done, but you gotta eat up first." Vaughn said. Sam nodded gently.

"Okay, but will you tell me what it is now?" Sam asked. Vaughn chuckled.

"It's good, isn't it?" Vaughn asked, dipping the spoon into the brown before moving it forward. Sam opened his lips as they were spread wide by the spoon. He closed his lips and pulled back, collecting the pungent, nutty stuff in his mouth. He chewed it up and then swallowed, shuddering as the hot paste filled his throat and belly.

"It is good... Very good." Sam murmured, blushing. Vaughn chuckled.

"You can feel it already, can't you? You're horny, aren't you boy?" Vaughn asked. Sam blushed more before nodding, his pants tenting. Vaughn chuckled, "Well, maybe you need something to help wash all that slop down with." Vaughn said, lifting up his belly, letting his rancid, thick cock spring out. Sam watched it bob and waggle like he was hypnotized, almost starting to drool. Vaughn gave himself a few tantalizing strokes, "Why hold back?" he asked.

"I... I shouldn't..." Sam whispered.

"But don't you want it? You red headed cum slut, I know that's why you came in here. You want to eat and drink, you want to be the center of the party. Come on, give in... Taste the dregs of humanity." Vaughn chuckled. Sam tried to resist, but he couldn't anymore. He rushed forward, grabbing Vaughn's cock with both hands. He stroked the pig man off before his lips kissed Vaughn's shaft, teasing the urethra, starting to explore the shaft.

Vaughn tangled his grimy paws in the reporter's hair, not caring about how he looked. He thrust his cock in and out, sliding it all around, bucking against the back of Sam's throat. Sam nearly gagged, but somehow managed to keep it in.

Vaughn picked up the pace, working faster and harder, stretching Sam's cheeks wide. He wasn't used to having such a girth in his mouth, but as sweaty and repulsive as Vaughn smelled, Sam was more and more turned on. He couldn't hold back, he couldn't resist. Every time he tried, he only gave in harder, sucked deeper, embraced the filth. He could feel the fat closing in around him, crushing his head and cheeks... Sam fantasized about being drawn into the fat, consumed by it. He didn't even know how right he was.

Vaughn had been sneaking Sam a mixture of his shit and cum since he first snuck in, already the changes were starting to show up. Sam's ears were more pointed, his nose was more upturned, his arms were a bit thicker... As the cock jutted in and out, Vaughn could swear he could feel the reporter's first set of tusks. He'd make a fine addition to the family, or perhaps even a way to spread the influence past the quarantine zone. Vaughn didn't just want to infect his apartment building anymore, he wanted it all. No one would be prepared for what had been unleashed by his hand.

Sam sucked obediently; feeling the cock brush the back of his throat before his throat suddenly began to take the cock down. Sam squirmed in shock, but Vaughn thrust deeper, sliding into the throat, making use of it. The reporter's throat was a magnificent fuck sleeve, sucking and tugging on him. Sam's face was buried in bristly pig hair and he inhaled deeply, the sweat soaking his face, his nose smashed up... and slowly Sam's lower jaw pushed forward, making enough room for his under bite to send up two little tusk points, his nose reinforcing itself to stay upright. Sam's pants slid down a little as his ass expanded and fattened and his tailbone pushed away from his body, taking a skewed angle.

The bone extended, new bones filling in. The reporter's tiny, frail frame was soon adorned by a spiral tail, twitching and flicking. Vaughn moaned, knowing he was already pushing it. He'd have more fun when the reporter was pushed into quarantine with them, but he had to give the boy a chance to spread it. Vaughn tipped his heat back and let out an ear piercing pig squeal before his cock pulsed. Sam felt it quiver in his throat before he gulped it down, swallowing wad after wad, letting it pool into his belly.

The heat radiated outward, coating his stomach walls, his body tingling. Sam's fingers and toes were stiff and tight, his feet aching from the day's walking... or so he thought. His gray shirt stretched around a slight pudge adding to his stomach, but Sam was none the wiser. As Vaughn's load finished off, the pig pulled back. The cock left Sam's lips, leaving a string dangling between them. Sam sucked it up like a spaghetti noodle, not wanting to waste a single drop. Vaughn chuckled and moved to ruffle Sam's red hair. Sam looked up with loving eyes before he stood up and wiped his mouth on his arm.

"Thank you..." he said softly. Vaughn smirked.

"Go make friends with the other reporters..." Vaughn said. Sam nodded; feeling suddenly like that was a wonderful idea... Though he still felt uncontrollably horny. Perhaps they would be able to help him out. He wandered off the way he had, his tail still flicking about in the setting sunlight. Vaughn grinned to himself, turning, heading back into the apartment building. He passed Clay and Miguel fucking by the mail room, he passed the triplets pigging out on found ice cream bars; he even found Jonas and Isaac shitting in one of the unrented rooms. As Vaughn moved back into his apartment, he thought to himself how much better his neighbors were in their natural state.

Vaughn knew his neighbors had always been pigs, but now they were his kind of pigs. Vaughn moved to sit down on his couch, legs spread wide, putting the bowl of shit on his huge belly as he turned the television on. He began to eat his own mess by the spoon full, watching the news, waiting to see what chaos Sam could cause. It had been an added bonus to be sure, and he was going to enjoy every moment of it... at last, life was worth living.