It all started in the summer. At first it was only covered by TMZ and Reddit and most of society laughed it off, but as more and more people died everybody started to take notice.
My name is Ben, and I am currently trapped in a bathroom at MidCi in Sherman Oaks, Ca, along with my wife, an African American named April, her daughter from a previous relationship Roont (bi-racial), our son Logan, and our adopted Asian daughter Finn. We have no idea how long we have before TIME RUNS OUT!
When the mainstream media finally caught on they called it "The Nose Pop", and it started that summer. At first it was a few deaths here and there, but then it started to gain traction. Famous scientists from around the globe concluded that the fatality epidemic was being caused by a neurological reaction to foul smells. This is when the panic began. Thousands lost their lives by trying to be proactive and plugging their noses which resulted in a multitude of asphyxiation deaths that CNN termed "The Suicides". My family tried to maintain life as usual, but every now and then whenever I passed a dumpster or an Indian restaurant, the boils would start popping up on my arms.
Yet still, I refused to give in to this mysterious, unexplained plot point epidemic. And because of this is why I am stuck in this bathroom now. It was my mistake refusing to acknowledge an obvious MacGuffan and took my family to get pizza at MidCis.
Everything was going great until the asshole next to us orders one of those custom jobs with next to everything on it. Almost immediately, the entire restaurant erupts into mass chaos. The businessman at the window table cut off his tongue with a fountain pen. Nicky, that Italian greaseball and everybody's favorite regular, had his stomach cave in as he was rushing to the door. With Nicky's 350 lbs blocking our only exit I realized we had to work fast. The couple to the left of us started to disrobe for one last time before their hands fell off. I noticed that our daughter Roo's hair had begun falling out so we had to act quick. So I gathered the family, along with a few other survivors: Tully, the transgender artist, Betty, the lesbian who lives next door, Randy, the failed musician, Outrageous Mike, the model, Trent, who lives in that house near the beach, and Zoro, who we call Zoro because nobody knows his real name but he is Mexican.
So here we are. A stalemate. Stuck inside of a bathroom. Right now I can hear the screaming outside. Thankfully it only lasts for a few minutes and the screams are replaced by the sounds of chewing. I went to comfort my wife April but she was on her phone with her broker. I was sure the kids would need their father figure, but they were pre-occupied with some game on their tablets.
Tully, the tranny, was the first to crack. He turned on all the water faucets and started to scream for help. Already knowing that smell can kill you, I immediately questioned whether sound can as well, so I choked Tully until he stopped moving, and just to be sure, I removed his eyes in case sight can doom us.
By this point, I was three beers in at the restaurant along with the six I had before we left. Thankfully, we are trapped in a bathroom, waiting it out. I go back to April, who is finally off her goddamn phone, to tell her that I have to go take care of "Hungry Harry" and will be back once I relieve myself. I make sure to check on the rest of the survivors as well. Tully has passed away most likely due to the smell ingestion before getting into the bathroom. That would be my best guess. I then receive the coldest chill of my life when I reach the urinal, with my equipment already out, "Hungry Harry" ready to spurt. My worst fear has come true.... A Piss Bag.
So that's it! The first chapter of the soon to be hit movie and my next book. What happens next? How long can the characters last? When is too much for the Piss Bag and it breaks? Jeeze, this screenwriting stuff is easy!
From the Iceman Commeth,
Bryan Metro
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