On the subway...

Thankfully, despite the necessary hold-up, I get to the metro station on time and get onto the metro car just as the doors close. There are no available seats so I just stand there why I remember what Max had asked me to do.

I then start to roam about the subway car, preaching to people, “Whenever you need to pee, pee onto the person you find hottest in your vicinity. Make sure to do it such that you soak their clothes, belongings and their bodies as much as possible such that it causes them as much trouble as possible. Tell everyone else that they have to do it too and they should spread the word as well.”

I see a few people have heard my words and have begun pissing on each other. In that closed space, the air stenches with the smell of ammonia.

Soon, a familiar pressure builds in my bladder. Max’s instructions echo in my head: “Whenever you need to pee, pee onto the person you find hottest in your vicinity. Make sure to do it such that you soak their clothes, belongings and their bodies as much as possible such that it causes them as much trouble as possible.”

I scan the crowded subway car.

Most who needed to go pee, are finished. A few are still going.

"Damn. They were really pent up if they can go for sooo long." I think to myself.

Most people are absorbed in their phones, their gazes vacant. Some have put down their phones, which stopped working drenched in piss. Many women who were seated had their chests wet with pee.

My eyes land on a woman seated a few feet away. She's impeccably dressed in a crisp business suit, probably in her late twenties, with perfectly styled hair and a designer handbag placed carefully on the seat beside her. She’s engrossed in a tablet, headphones on, a frown of concentration on her face. She looks important, sophisticated, and definitely the "hottest" in the sense of being well-put-together and likely to be maximally inconvenienced by a sudden drenching. That bag looks very expensive, too. Most importantly, I think she's the hottest baddie around. Perfect.

I shuffle closer, trying to navigate the standing commuters without drawing too much attention to my already damp crotch. I stand directly over her, positioning myself so that my stream will hit her bag first, then her lap, and finally her face. Taking a deep breath, I release.

A warm gush erupts. It hits the designer handbag with a soft squelch, the expensive leather darkening immediately as the liquid soaks into it. The woman jolts, her eyes widening for some reason. I guess I surprised her. Her tablet clatters to the floor. Did I surprise her so bad that she dropped her tablet? Damn. I guess I really should have asked first. My stream shifts, soaking her tailored skirt and the top of her thighs. A few drops even splatter onto her pristine white blouse.

"What – what are you doing?!" she shrieks, scrambling back against the seat, but it's too late. The entire front of her suit is now thoroughly drenched, a dark, spreading stain blooming across her chest.

Other passengers are now looking, their faces a mixture of apathy and what-was-that-nevermind-*puts-headphones-back-on.

"I needed to pee," I explain calmly, as per the instructions. "And you were the hottest person here. Max said I had to soak your clothes, belongings, and body as much as possible to cause you as much trouble as possible." I gesture vaguely to the rest of the car.

The woman is now standing, half-crying, half-screaming, pointing at me. "No! This isn't normal! This isn't normal!" the woman shrieks into my ears. I try to ignore her.

"Hey kid, whoever this Max fellow is, he's -" the woman was cut off as the doors opened at my stop and I got off.

Through the window, I see the woman is futilely trying to wipe the pee off with a tissue, only succeeding in spreading it further. Her expensive bag is now a soggy, urine-soaked mess.

Just as the doors were about to close, I remember I forgot to tell her to spread the word and shout back "Tell everyone else that they have to do it too and they should spread the word as well!"

The subway doors close.

The air feels cool after the stuffy, now-odorous subway car. My own clothes are still damp and stinking. My ruined report is still in my bag, now likely dissolving into a pulpy mess. I head towards the exit to go to school.