One Nation Under Skibidi

"Hey now *whistle* my eyes are up here," called the second urinal to my right.

"Oh! Umm shit...I'm sorry," I shook my head, having been caught staring at her porcelain assets.

In my defense it was kind of hard not to. Her body (or bowl I guess?) though concave had two huge D-cups firmly on display, sticking out lewdly from beneath the ridge where her shoulders merged with the wall. Affixed to a stainless steel pipe, her graceful neck rose to support her head, framed by otherwise normal brown hair and bangs, save for the part where the handle to "flush her" was sticking out from beside her left temple.

Lacking legs, her body below her chest was turned to white ceramic, simply curving past her belly button to a standard urinal drain. Covered by a white basket, the urinal cake inside it was a bit more oval and cleft in the middle, carved, I realized, to resemble a vagina.

"Whoa whoa, whoa, the hoo-hah's off limits, too, bud. Buy a girl dinner first," the girl-rinal added, noticing where my eyes had wandered.

"Fuck...I didn't...I didn't mean... I'm SO sorry," I stuttered again, trying to cover my eyes.

To my shock she just laughed at me, a strangely hollow sound, before leveling me with a thin eyebrow.

"Oh relax, they don’t bite," she teased, shrugging her frame with more mobility than I expected. When I didn’t respond, she just chuckled and continued, "Aww never seen a naked skibidi toilet girl before?"

"I don't remember?" I said lamely, eliciting even more laughter. A distant cartoon meme came to mind, but I opted not to dwell on it. Withdrawing my hands I was greeted with the surreal sight of watching a urinal lean forward. Those breasts jostling again back and forth, not with the usual elasticity of skin but with just enough jiggle to spill a few leaky droplets onto the bathroom floor.

Against all odds, I tried to re-calibrate, eyes firmly fixed on her non-ceramic face. "I mean, yes I've seen a, uh, naked girl--I mean woman--before, just none like YOU, err I that is to say like this."

The "you" came out slightly more flirtatiously than I'd intended, so I gestured to the pipe sautered to her rear to save face. Half object or no, I had always gotten tongue-tied talking to pretty girls.

"Aww! Am I your first? I'm touched." She gave me a suggestive wink.

Cracking a smile, I tried again. "Are you okay like this...?" The effort to have a normal conversation proving daunting.

"Mmm, been better." She said, looking up to blow a wiry strand of hair back into place.

“Yeah? Um... that's, that's cool,” I nodded like a blushing bobblehead, suddenly realizing her stomach and pelvis were notably slick.

“COOL?” She replied with sarcastic venom.

“No I, uh, bleh,” I wretched internally, mostly at myself as I tried to push away my intrusive thoughts.

Her big beautiful eyes were locked right on mine. Sure she was more-or-less scowling, but her eyes were tinged with a kind of irony. Angry but mirthful. Intelligent but content. Grey steel against dull ceramic but fascinatingly, luridly human.

"You seem..." I tried to remember how words worked, "...oddly nonchalant about this."

"Eh, could be worse," she said, expression changing on a dime as she stretched as far back as her plumbing would allow, "I mean, have you SEEN the others."

The invitation to look around elicited another eye twitch, and another blush of embarrassment. Just to the girl's left, a cheerleader was affixed in the reverse position: head changed to a drain, the metal valve and pipes at the top emerging from a pair of her olive-skinned butt cheeks. Long and leggy, her naked gams sloped down to where they connected with her ceramic ears and a urinal cake sat stuffed in her mouth-drain, the basket holding it in place like a muzzle.

Her neighbor was not much better. Contorted in such a way her legs were over her head and her pussy was in her mouth, the rest of her body seemed to be one giant ball, mashed together like a particularly absurd onahole. Her torso and back were unnaturally stretched so the user could urinate on both and let the liquid slide down over her face. Further pretzeled, the pipes at her top and bottom were more limb-like, with the handle to "flush her" just a full-on foot and a fleshy hand reaching up to squeeze her rump from the wall below, two of its fingers firmly stuck inside her porcelain cheeks.

"Paeton was always the flexible one," my compatriot nodded sagely, eliciting glares from the two johns, their strangely human eyes narrowing as they looked up from their drains.

"Oh don't give me that look. At least you're not Lauren F.," she admonished, gesturing with her inanimate shoulder to the commode on the right.

The urinal there was much like hers: boobs out, upright, no legs, but being that it was the small one for the shorter students, its head and face had been removed so as to not take up extra space. Her human hands had been left alone, and sat actively teasing her hard nipples and flicking her urinal cake from underneath the grate; the headless girl quietly masturbating herself.

"Brr *splash* shhhhhwwwwww," Paeton gurgled into her pussy-drain, her eyes not losing an ounce of their ire.

"Uhh drama queens," the talking toilet rolled her silvery eyes. "Guess I'm the head of the human centipede this month. News Flash Ladies! Not how I want to be spending my Friday morning either!"

"Ooh. Um, it’s afternoon," I corrected.

"Fuck, really?"

I nodded, the girl hanging her head in dismay.

"Hells, how much longer is this supposed to take?" Her groaning eliciting similar wet and defeated sounds from her fellow stalls. Paeton even blew bubbles.

"How...and I’m sorry if this personal...," I ventured the million dollar question, "...did you all...end up like this?"

“'If this is personal'? Ha, who are you?” The girl-rinal guffawed, heaving another metallic chuckle my way.

"Oh sorry, I'm Gavin...?" I introduced myself.

"Not what I meant!!" She shook her head and sighed "But you know, tale as old as time, just a cheer squad on the wrong-side of a boy with a magic laptop."

I grimaced. "That boy wouldn't happen to be Martin Clarke, by chance?"

"How'd you know?" She almost looked impressed.

"A couple girls were, uh, 'strangely enthusiastic' about him in the hallway." I said, pointing a thumb at the closed door.

"Ah, must've started his 'glazing' then," the girl-rinal nodded boredly.

"Glazing?"

"He mentioned mid-monologue how he was going to 'up the glazing slider' of all the girls in school. Guess we don't count anymore since we're too 'skibidi'."

"Um, Skibidi?"

"Did I stutter?" The girl glared.

I just held up my hands like a cat offering its belly in surrender. Words like that would become second-nature in the days that followed: skibidi, brainrot, rizz, ohio, etc., but not familiar with the terms yet I was having trouble following.

"Sorry," she sighed gruffly, "it's a Youtube thing. Suffice to say, we were wrapping up morning practice in the gymnasium, when Steph, our captain, grew a toilet for a mouth."

Inflating her cheeks, the girl-rinal briefly pantomimed, her captain's fate, but I'd gotten the picture.

"Her jaw just kind of 'pelicaned', if you know what I mean?" She continued. "One minute she's leading stretches as we're going over notes, next her chin has quadrupled in size and is filling up with water that keeps sloshing around as she's trying to talk *lol*."

"JEEBUS," I shuddered, watching her urinal cake roll as she snickered. "That's kind of awful."

"Eh, Steph's a bitch most days," she shrugged, eliciting an indignant splash from Paeton. "Oh fuck off, P. Just cause Steph invited you to her slumber parties does not make up for the girls she’s been giving eating disorders since freshman year."

Paeton's nostrils flared against her ceramic labia, but whatever retort she had, just came out as a low groan from deep within her pipes.

"So you...just found it funny?" I asked, kind of concurring with Paeton on this one.

"Eh we didn't really notice it at the time," the girl gave another chest-bouncing shrug.

"What? How?" I asked, the thrill of her nakedness becoming less noteworthy as my nerves settled.

"Don't know. Something about how he does it, I guess? We watched Steph's entire upper jaw and nose stretch till she looked like a platypus with competition curls, and we just sat there like nothing was happening. I distinctly remember watching her tongue piercing fall out of her tongue as it became a toilet seat--and I remember thinking 'huh I wonder if Steph noticed'. In hindsight, I kinda think she did..."

This was my first taste of Julia's penchant for story-telling, or rather attention to sordid details, and I was equally disgusted and enraptured.

Oh yeah the girl-rinal I'm talking to is Julia by the way, the one I mentioned last chapter. Did that come through in the writing? I'll just let you know now, in case that didn't come through.