Counterargument

The audience is now practically in a commotion. The moderator and judges look stunned, as if they had just witnessed one of the most daring and powerful debate strategies ever… because that’s exactly what happened. The once respectfully quiet audience is now in a frenzy of murmurs, half of them having just been convinced that 2+2=7 along with Brian. The moderator’s voice carries over the din, “Ahem. Settle down people, debate’s not over yet,” but hardly anyone listens. Rachel switches on her mic and repeats the moderator’s command, but also brings the mic to her lap as she wets on her seat, filling the room with the sound of her urine hissing and dripping onto the floor. That gets the crowd to shut up right quick. “Anyway,” the moderator continues, “that was very well said, Naomi, or should I say well peed, but now Amber will have an opportunity to give a rebuttal.”

“I stand corrected.” Amber quickly resets her face, but anyone watching closely will have seen a flicker of fear in her eyes. “But…” She walks over to stand in front of Brian, still laying on the floor, and extends a hand to pull him into a sitting position. “Brian, what do you get if you divide seven by two?”

A few seconds of silence.

“T… th-three. Three and a half,” the man finally chokes out.

“Correct.” Amber turns back to the audience. “Two and two cannot equal seven,” she declares, “because so do three-point-five and three-point-five. So do three and four, which can be adjusted to a pair of three-point-fives, but not a pair of twos.” From his position behind Amber, Brian can see a bulge straining against the fabric of her panties, growing maybe an inch before she sucks it back in.

“Notice how easily I unraveled such a simple deception.” Amber hooks her fingers into the waistband and lets her formerly bright red panties drop to the floor. Now completely bottomless, she keeps talking as she follows a circuitous route back to her podium, peeing as she walks, the patter clearly audible on the lacquered stage.

“Do you realize how incredibly complicated it would be to make a worldwide change of this magnitude? Seven billion people over more than sixty million kilometres of land would have to be convinced. Centuries of historical records and decades of media would have to be completely rewritten. And that’s ignoring the question of how the change was introduced in the first place.” She grunts softly and ends her argument with a reverberating fart before slipping behind the podium and pulling out another pair of panties from her purse.

The judges each begin scribbling notes and whispering to each other, comparing the two women’s arguments. Amber’s counterargument has weakened Naomi’s case severely, but in doing so she has nearly emptied the contents of her bladder while Naomi has only lost a couple spurts. Though the bright red, piss-wet panties left on the stage was a spectacular touch.

“Here we’re going to take a five-minute break,” the moderator interjects in the moment of near silence that follows while Amber redresses her bare nethers. “Take the time to go drink some water and freshen up, and that goes for our lovely debaters too.” The brilliance of the stage lights is replaced by the softer shine of the overheads, which allows those on stage to see the five thousand or so people in the auditorium. Brian seems relieved as he dismounts the stage, but a bulge in the crotch of his pants suggests he enjoyed his experience after all.

Backstage, Naomi approaches Amber, who’s sitting next to a large jug of water.
“May I?” Naomi asks, picking up an empty glass and pouring herself some of the liquid. “How has the debate been treating you so far, Ms. Amber?” She smiles.

Amber sits silently for a few seconds before answering. “You’re messing with something you don’t understand, Naomi.” She’s quiet, as always, but Naomi’s good enough at reading people that she can tell this is different from Amber’s stage voice.

“That’s the point, isn’t it? This is what all my research has been leading into.” Naomi takes only a few sips, being that her bladder is still almost full. “I don’t know exactly what your role is in all of this, but I intend to find out.” Her tone isn’t menacing, but there’s a certain irrefutable energy about her words. “In any case, I don’t hold any ill will towards you personally. You will surely understand.”

“So where did it come from? What convinced you this was a recent thing?”

“Ask her that on stage, why don’t you? Interrogating your opponent while the debate is on hold is practically cheating,” Rachel chastises Amber as she comes in, carrying the scent of urine with her, still with a large damp patch on her butt from wetting her pants earlier. “Y’all have two minutes left, by the way.”

“Thanks for the reminder,” Naomi says. She places one hand on her belly, sucking air through her teeth with a pained expression on her face. “I think I’m about to burst. I suppose that’s what I get for holding back,” she comments, taking another sip of water and visibly bobbing her left heel.

“You could always try and convince me of some false math facts if you need to release a little,” Rachel jokes as she dabs at her rear with a towel. “Man, I should have dropped my pants before I peed them, now they’re getting chilly. Anyway, I’m headed back out. See you girls in a minute, and good luck!” With that, she darts out the door.

“Well, I don’t need any more preparation. See you back on stage,” Naomi says with a wink, setting off with a slightly nervous step, though retaining a certain swing. To most people, this would be a flirtatious gesture, but Naomi’s well known for her personal flair as much as anything else.