"So you're saying that... Horace Young... turned into an insect?" the lines in Mr. Zaman's forehead were deeper than ever, resembling trenches in the depths of his thoughts.

"I know it sounds ridiculous," Marky said, taking a sip of his cigarette, "very ridiculous in fact. But... it... it... makes sense. At least in terms of evidences and witnesses, right?"

"Yes but..." Mr. Zaman trailed off, "I wouldn't tell the Chief that he'd just turned into a cockroach like some Kafka shit."

"Like some what?"

"The two of us... we might think it makes sense. But what about everyone else?"

"To hell with fucking everyone else!" Marky said.

"Don't get me wrong, I can see. I can see your point, no matter how absurd. The place where she threw the insect... it matches the victim's location."

"Yeah," Marky took another big sip of his cigarette.

"Assuming it did happen," Mr. Zaman said, "Charlotte Young would pick it and kill it in the garden? By stepping on it, correct?"

"Yes. That's what she told me yesterday. Killed the bug-"

"Cockroaches are notoriously hard to kill. And you told me it's as big as a fist?"

"Yeah, she told me that."

"Jesus. She's got balls not gonna lie."

"She's a ballsy woman, I can tell."

"But like I said, they're hard to kill. Insects have exoskeletons."

"Yeah yeah, I know. They have this shell thing on them. What about it?"

Mr. Zaman looked at him, "if it was indeed Horace, his skin would've been tough enough to stay whole. It wouldn't be molten into his flesh. Not to mention he was mushed up like he was-"

"Eeew! Okay okay I get it! But I think there's something else she did that she haven't told me."

Mr. Zaman's eyebrows raised up, but his eyes remained low and stoic.

"Remember the piss? Charlotte's urine? The body was drenched in it. Gallons of it, the autopsy reported. Did you know that elephants can produce a dozen gallons of pee at once?"

Mr. Zaman's face scrunched up in disgust, "you think she peed on it?"

Marky nodded.

It was quiet for a moment.

"Important question," Mr. Zaman suddenly declared.

"What?"

"Did Charlotte know that it was her husband?"

Marky thought for a while. Frankly, he didn't know. So he slowly shook his head.

"We both know she's deeply mad at him right?"

"Yeah but... would she go as far as kill her husband?"

"Would you piss at an insect?"

Marky was quiet. He quickly shook his head, "would *you* piss at your worst enemy?"

Mr. Zaman nodded slowly. "You got a point. You're more likely to piss on an insect than your enemy."

"Yeah... it's childish, yes, but... possible."

Silence.

It was broken by Mr. Zaman's grim laughter, "what these fucking cases made us do: talking about what are we more likely to piss on!"

Marky tried to laugh, but it came out as a sigh instead, "don't you think that there's something... savage about a grown-ass person pissing on someone - I mean something?"

"Hmmm? Yeah, I guess it's gross. And immature."

"No, you don't get it. It's... animalistic. It's something done by someone who has a deep deep deep anger on another."

"You told me she wouldn't kill her husband."

"I didn't assert it. We just don't have enough reason to think so."

Mr. Zaman looked down. Marky sipped the last of his cigarette, killing it in the ashtray. Only Marky had the balls to bring a fucking ashtray in the no-smoke-zone office.

"You know, I thought we have to talk to this Jean woman," Marky said.

"The girl that the night patrolman Ben mentioned?"

"Yeah."

"Why though? That Ben is a pussy anyway."

"Not an interrogation, we'll just ask her a few questions. I think she can clarify some things."

"And do we have a reason to talk to her?"

"I was thinking about it since Ben told us. We can tell her the truth. That a night patrolman reported her to us."

Mr. Zaman sighed, "I don't know. I really don't feel like coming back to that damn place."

Marky grinned a bit, "why? are you a pussy as well?"

Mr. Zaman's eyes widened as he chuckled, "shut up!"

"You're coming with me. We teamed up for a reason."

"I bet you only wanna see those big booty that Ben was talking about."

"Don't act like you don't want to as well."

With slightly lightened moods, the two officers skipped outside the police station.

*** *** ***

Big booty it was. Jean sat there, cross-legged, here dainty yet piercing eyes examining the two policemen, who were drinking some coffee that she had prepared. She was wearing bright blue shorts which barely covered her thighs. They were so short that they're basically thick, wrinkled panties. Her plump body was clad in a thin blouse with noodle straps, vaguely showing a glimpse of the black D cups bra beneath. She wasn't "fat", but she did have quite a weight. Yet her body and her smooth fair skin overall was quite a stunner. Even the relatively older man, Mr. Zaman, had his attention captured.

She probably did this in purpose, he thought.

Jean let out a sweet smile. Her lips thinning into a cute U. Then the smile immediately flattened into a thick horizontal line - a dash.

"What do you want to know, officers?" she said. Her voice was quite low - it had weight in it as well.

Mr. Zaman told her that it'll be about her little commotion with Captain, as well as how it was reported by the patrolman, Ben. Captain and some of his friends fled away not a long time ago, so they weren't in the suburban right now.

"And what did this Ben say, officer?" she asked, "nothing special happened. I simply told them to quiet down a bit - it was like 12 in the midnight - and... we had a little commotion but that's it. Anything else you have to know?"

"What happened during this 'commotion'?" Marky said.

"Okay, we almost had a fight and-"

"Physical fight?"

"Ye- Yeah, physical, you know men when they're drunk?" she shook her head, "that. And then Ben stopped me."

"Ok, so Ben stopped you, not any of the men?" Mr. Zaman said.

"Correct. That useless boy tackled me away from them."

"Then what happened?"

"What? Nothing. I came back in my house and slept, or tried to. Those men had been keeping me awake for hours, officer."

Mr. Zaman looked down, his hand on his chin. He glanced up and saw Marky staring at her, either with examining eyes or with perverted eyes.

"Something else officer?"

"What happened to Captain during the confrontation?" Marky said.

"Captain? I dunno, he just..." she squirmed a bit.

Mr. Zaman hid his grin. Marky and his explosive questions oftentimes impress him.

"Nothing happened to him?"

"Nothing! I'll tell you what, officer: the pervert old man groped me! Not even subtle! He lunged straight at my legs! Am I really in the wrong here officer?" she looked at the two. She blushed upon realizing that Marky was staring at her barely covered thighs.

"No, not that," Mr. Zaman said, "we just want to know more about the incident."

"What's so special about that incident anyway? Anything?" she said. Mr. Zaman didn't want her challenge-me tone.

"We just wanted your side of the story."

"You already heard my side of the story. Does that mean that it's over?"

She was indeed sassy. Mr. Zaman thought.

"You think there's something... unexplainable?" she said.

The two officers looked at Jean, who grinned.

"I'll tell you what, officer: the fucker groped me, he got karma. Had some sort of a heart attack or something. Fell on the ground," she said. Now, not only her words were heavy, they were also sharp.

"A heart attack? What do you mean? And why didn't you tell us right away?" Mr. Zaman said, almost yelling.

"I didn't think it was important! Besides, it's karma. For being a pervert and a noisy drunkard old fart."

"Anything else you didn't tell us because it's unimportant?" Marky said, also annoyed.

"Nope," she piped, "you know, officers..." she uncrossed her legs and put one of her foot on her seat. It revealed the surprisingly smooth and pink surface of her thighs, right near her cunt. The pinkish-white panties that covers it were visible beneath her shorts, which barely covers the intimate part.

Both officers frowned. Mr. Zaman confirmed to himself that she was indeed doing it in purpose.

But why?

Does this bitch really think that she could seduce his aging ass?

"You like it don't you?" she said.

Mr. Zaman yelled, "stop-"

"Shhhh, I just want to tell you two that... I believe that men... like you two... are all the same. Mindless creeps. I really think, officers, that all men will get their karma now. It's like it's judgement day here. Karma will come to you, that's all you have to know."

"Is that a threat?" Mr. Zaman said, his muscles clenching in full-attack mode.

"A disrespect to the authority!" Marky added.

"Men will no longer be the authority. They shouldn't be."

Mr. Zaman sighed, calming his nerves. This fucker... this fucker is crazy!

"Miss, we respect your... feminist beliefs. But this isn't the time for that."

"You already knew what you have to know, officers."

*** *** ***

As the two officers walked along the suburbs back to their car, they realized how eerie the place was. The entire sky was covered in a heavy grey blanket. The road was wet, with mosses invading the pavements and sidewalks. So much moss that it's almost impossible to walk there without slipping. And it's not only moss...

"Vines," Marky gasped.

The leafy lines appear anywhere they glance. Covering catch basins. Making huge cracks in the sidewalk. Embracing the light posts and even the windows.

The two officers looked at each other. Another instance where they were thinking of the same thing: Case number 2's bedroom. Covered in vines. Nobody knew why. They forgot about the bitchiness of that Jean girl for a while.

Mr. Zaman sensed someone in the shadows. A small figure in pink-

He turned around and was startled at a little girl giving him a death stare. She was wearing a pink, flowery dress and a blank face.

"Hello there, can we help you? Are you lost?" Mr. Zaman said. He knew suburban kids never get lost in their closed, suburban world. He merely said it to lighten up the atmosphere.

The little girl frowned, glaring at him. She then pointed at the suburb daycare - where case number 3 was found.

"Teacher Chloe is called by the mountains!" she said happily, like a normal daycare kid would. Then she ran away with the speed of a rat who got caught.

"Hey wait! You study there?" Marky shouted after her, but the child already entered their home, which is not far away from the daycare.

From that house, a woman emerged, wearing oversized tees that went all the way to her hips. Her hair was tied in a messy bun. She looked at the officers with curiosity.

"Officers! You here to investigate the daycare?"

Mr. Zaman frowned. Marky looked annoyed. Gossipers. Even suburban areas have gossipy women.

They slowly walked to her.

"I'm sorry ma'am, but I'm afraid it's none of your business," Mr. Zaman said.

"Venice, just call me Venice, officers," she said, not even a bit offended. "You know, like the Italian city. Anyway, of course I care about that: it's my daughter's school!"

"Yeah, I understand, but... you don't have to... stick your nose in it like you always do," Mr. Zaman replied, not even hiding his contempt.

"Officer Marky, and this is Officer Zaman, or Mr. Zaman as we call him," Marky said.

"Nice to meet you. You know all these things are scaring the kids - my daughter..." she trailed off, shaking her head.

"We understand," Mr. Zaman said, "I've dealt with-"

"Do you think there's anything we should know? That you might share?" Marky suddenly piped.

Mr. Zaman gave him a disapproving glance.

"Oh- uh... nothing really," Venice said, "those patrolmen were keeping everyone away from the daycare. I-"

"Have you seen patrolman Stan?" Marky said, mentioning the patrolman who's been missing for days - feared to be case number 4.

Mr. Zaman looked at him, wide-eyed.

"Stan? Ehhhh... yeah. Why?" she said. Once again, Marky shot a sudden question that made someone squirm.

"He is missing, don't you know?"

"Uhhh... I, I know! Yeah. And... and I've last seen him in the daycare, keeping guard."

Marky looked at Mr. Zaman, who nodded slowly.

"Like I said, it scares the kids, like my daughter. All those things like closing her school... the curfew..."

She glanced at her house. Soon, the kid in pink dress appeared. Venice's countenance instantly sweetened, "why baby? I'm just talking with the cops here."

The little girl smiled and waved at the officers, who waved back.

"Boys are weak!" she said before marching back into her home.

"I'm sorry. My daughter says random things lately. Likely due to the trauma or something."

"She told us about her teacher being called by the mountains," Marky said.

Mr. Zaman wanted to reprimand him, but he didn't. This boy seems to have a knack at tying up irrational puzzle pieces.

"Yeah, she's always blabbing about how her teacher Chloe is stronger than... the canteen man..."

"The victim?"

"Yeah. He was a cook there you know. Really great with kids. Sweet young man he was. And... yeah, my daughter's been talking about how her teacher was called by the mountains for being stronger."

They nodded slowly.

"Did you ask her for explanations? Anything?"

"I did, and she just tell me the same thing. I don't worry about it because you know how preschoolers have imaginations right? Look," she pointed at their open doorway, "she'd been drawing all over our walls. I kind of regretted buying her crayons."

Marky leaned in to see. Mr. Zaman did too, expecting to see something like "HAIL SATAN 666" in kid's handwriting. But there's none. Just random, incoherent doodles in many colors. Perhaps he'd been watching too much horror movies.

"A masterpiece right?" Venice chuckled, her eyes glowing as she talked about her 5-6 year old, "she has a wild imagination. Mountains calling people? Come on!"

"Thanks, Venice. It's been nice talking to you. We are going through a lot right now," Marky said, also chuckling.

"Welcome," Venice said, "you know what's the funniest she had told me?"

"What?"

"She said that canteen man turned into a cabbage."

*** *** ***

Teacher Chloe walked along the familiar track of her workplace: Fleece Development Center. But today, the place was devoid of charm. It was a cloudy afternoon. The ground was wet, with occasional frogs hopping around. The daycare itself was closed due to the sickening thing that appeared in the women's restroom.

It was far from the first time she felt empty as she strode along the hallway, with walls depicting colorful scenes of children playing under the animated sun and clouds and trees. She'd been feeling drained lately, mostly due to the kids not listening to her. Working with kids have been her dream for a long time - yet for some reason, she hadn't anticipated such headache in dealing with them. The joy was gone, which is incredible considering she's just half a decade into the career.

Then there's this cook, Stan. She didn't hate him personally. She's just... jealous maybe? He handles the kids with so much ease and elegance that she question her own capabilities as an educator. He makes her insecure. A silly thought she knew, it wasn't like he was competing against her for the kids' attention. But he's still has a way of hurting her pride unintentionally. Maybe whenever he give her tips like he's better than her - she's the teacher for God's sake. Or whenever he effectively deals with a problem inside the classroom. Teacher Chloe knew it shouldn't bother her - he's helping. But for some reason - especially lately, it damages her in a fundamental way. It's like he's invalidating all of her investments in a career she loved.

Sometimes, it's crazy how can a seemingly shallow reason go as deep as a trench. So deep it touches something fundamental. So deep it's in the realm of the absurd.

Teacher Chloe knew, in the subconscious level, that the cabbage that she ate was in fact, Stan the cook. And that the monstrosity that she discovered in the women's restroom was him, dissolved by her digestive system. But of course, the conscious level of her mind would reject such an idea.

So when the cops called her for an urgent interrogation, she clung on her conscious mind in a way that someone clings to the edge of the cliff to avoid falling. Falling into insanity. Whatever answers she will give to the cops, it will come from the conscious, rational part of her mind. She met the cops there - they let her hop in with them as they went to the station.

She sat on the room with the two cops, one of which she recognized as Officer Zaman. She didn't bother getting a lawyer - the case itself wasn't even considered as murder anyway... she hoped. The cops pointed out three things: they found muriatic acid in the women's restroom (they say the body was dissolved by acid), Stan was last seen in the canteen - cooking food, and that she's the last person besides the janitor who went in the restroom before the body was found (the day Stan disappeared, she shat in the restroom - the very same cubicle where the body was found, though she didn't tell that to the cops).

Now, they were interested in what exactly happened on Monday, October 21st. Particularly about Stan's what's and where's before he disappeared, and whatever happened between her lunch and her untimely shitting.

She was impressed and afraid: the cops hit the bullseye before she could even dodge.

But still, she narrated her story that day as much as her conscious mind can do.

The most inexplicable thing that happened that day was actually before Stan disappeared. She described it as "phantom earthquake", because she felt like there was an earthquake in the classroom. Specifically, a volcanic force brewing under the mountains across the river. The river is fairly close to the daycare, and the landslide striken mountain loomed over them like a vengeful god. That's what she felt. She felt the earth trembling, threatening another landslide. A landslide that would gobble up the entire classroom with all the kids inside.

So they all did the duck-cover-hold thing that they do in earthquake drills. It was quite a scene. She was confused. The kids were confused. Some were making fresh mischiefs, some were looking at her with worried eyes.

She was so shocked and dazed that when half of the class screamed their ear-splitting kiddie scream, she didn't notice right away. She assumed it was another attention-seeking mischievious kid.

It wasn't.

Looking at the source of commotion, she saw vines. Vines crawling through the window - yes, crawling. Crawling towards her as a matter of fact. A good bunch of the kids cried, some stared at the moving plant. Teacher Chloe herself was stunned.

Interestingly, the cops didn't seem to be that skeptical about that part. Surprised yes, but they didn't show any sign that they think it's nonsense. Officer Zaman himself nodded slowly at the mention of the crawling vines.

Soon after the vines visited the room, the door blasted open, revealing a worried Stan. Apparently, he heard the screams. Some kids run up to him, like he's some superhero that will save the day. Some kids pointed at the vines - which stopped crawling. He was as shocked as she was. He then ran away, coming back seconds later with a kitchen knife on his hand. The sight of worried Stan with a knife on his hand further froze the teacher's mind. She doesn't know what's happening. Frankly, she was as scared and confused as her students.

Stan ran towards her, flinging the knife. No, towards the vines in the windows. He cut them branch by branch, struggling against the pesky, invasive green branches. He found himself tangled by it. He struggled untangling his hands from the vines. But eventually, he cut them all.

The whole time, Chloe was just watching. She came back to reality when Stan asked her if she's alright. She felt stupid and useless, just standing there while her entire class was melting down.

As she smiled and nodded at Stan, who was panting, she couldn't help but feel that fiery feeling again. Not anger, maybe jealousy, definitely insecurity. She wouldn't tell it to the cops, but she wanted to topple him. Not necessarily to fight him, but to rise above him. Absorb his superpowers and be a superhero herself. She wanted to consume him. She felt like it's the thing that will replenish her confidence back. The thing that will make her feel alive again.

Perhaps that's why during lunchtime, she was hungrier than usual. She wanted to consume more than just stew...

Lunchtime is actually a part of the feeding program for the kids. After the class dismissal, the kids can optionally go to the canteen to eat something. Usually, most kids do attend the feeding program. Because Stan was great at cooking, as well interacting with kids.

At lunchtime of that day, Teacher Chloe and the kids were marching down to the canteen in two lines, as usual. As the teacher walk, she felt an overwhelming desire to consume Stan. It wasn't really a cannibalistic thought, just some weird form of a desire to have power - which everyone has. 

She peeked at the canteen and did something that she would never tell the cops - or anyone. She stared at Stan, who was preparing the bowls of stew at the corner. He froze in the spot, and slowly, shrank and turn green. He merely held on one of the bowls, before he disappeared. The entire thing felt like a dream. Mere 5 seconds but it felt like several minutes.

When they all entered the canteen, the bowls were all ready, but Stan was nowhere to be found. Teacher Chloe, of course, wasn't surprised. But the kids were.

The two cops threw many questions at that point, but the narrative stayed the same: she and the kids entered the canteen and alas, he's now missing.

Where does she think he went? Well, she doesn't know. At least, the conscious part of her mind doesn't know. The unconscious, however... points at that moment.

One of the students, a little girl who claims that Teacher Chloe is "being called by the mountains" called her. She looked at the bowl as if there's worms in it, giving it to her. She looked at it, and there was something moving. Not worms or anything equally alarming. Just... a leaf. Teacher Chloe was shocked, thinking about the moving vines again, but she realized it was just one of the cabbage strips. A human shaped cabbage strip. And seeing the build of the human-cabbage, as well as the way its head tilts (a mannerism of Stan)... she knew. She knew it was Stan. She took the bowl and gave the girl a new one. She then skipped to her table, barely bottling up her excitement.

She didn't mention those details to the cops, but she did told them about something moving in one of the student's soup. And how she took it and ate it. Surprisingly, the cops unleashed another torrent of questions. It was terrifying to think that they probably know. When she told them that she saw a cabbage strip move, the cops made inflated oohs and aahs, as if they finally cornered her.

Yet she still clung to her narrative. That it was probably just some silly hallucination, perhaps due to the moving vines earlier. That she simply ate a bowl of soup.

But of course, that wasn't the case. In fact, she stared at it for a long time before she even took it from the girl. The human-cabbage was swimming away from the girl, slowly. It's as if its swimming across lava. The soup was steaming and the cabbage can barely move its softened leafy self across the bowl. In fact, it couldn't even surface itself that much. Only its head was protuding from the savory water. Chloe noticed that it has two hole for eyes. There was no expression in its face, but she can see the dread and fear that it felt when glancing at the little girl behind it. Quite enticing for Chloe to know that he almost got eaten by a preschooler girl. But no. There's an idea a dozen times more enticing than that...

When she took the bowl, the soup went into a turbulent mashup of waves that sank the human-cabbage below the surface. Chloe couldn't resist smiling when the cabbage-man rose on the surface, finding itself face-to-face with her. His thumb-sized face, right below Chloe's round gigantic face.

Stan may be average when it comes to height, but Chloe is quite short. Chloe's body resembles a nameless fruit: she was short and plump. Yes, she's in the "fat" category, with a massive waist that makes her buy panties the size of a laptop. Overall, her body is roughly shaped like a teardrop, with the thickest part being her hips. She may be fat, but her massive boobs and pair of thighs that can probably crush a human head like it's a walnut - combined with her youthful, tomboyish face, made her quite attractive. To complete the fruit resemblance, her hair was a short and spiky mass that look a bit like pineapple leaves.

She's small, so she often find herself looking up at Stan whenever she talk to him.

Now, looking down at him in that form - vulnerable, edible, helpless... it gave her so much excitement she thought she'd explode.

It began swimming away from her, or more like crawling across the steaming soup. It's an amusing sight. Chloe merely watched the cabbage-man persevere, as if he'd escape from her.

She ate the soup, purposefully avoiding the moving ingredient - whose movements freeze in an electrified fear whenever the spoon scoops up something in the soup. She noisily slurped the water and the vegetables. Droplets of soup dripped to her chin. She didn't mind eating in such a manner during that day. All her attention was at the leafy figure trying to escape the bowl.

She was barely full when all that remains was the cabbage man, trembling as it walked along the puddle of savory water, about knee deep for him. She grinned and raised the soup to her face, ready to devour the one that will actually make her full. It turned its leafy face on her, freezing in visible fear.

It's pathetic attempts to escape were futile when she tilted the soup, hungrily slurping all the remaining water. Then the cabbage man... it reached her pouted lips. To her surprise, it kicked her lips, trying to get away. It doesn't seem to be able to do such sudden movements. Still, it can't do nothing to escape her mouth.

Chloe had a big mouth. Open it wide enough and it'll look like fist can fit in it. Although Chloe's own pudgy hand can only go halfway through. Still, it's a wide cavern surrounded by blocky teeth and a thick set of lips.

She tilted the bowl further, until it's almost upside-down. The cabbage man couldn't get away from her grinning lips. And it was absolutely powerless when she opened her mouth - as wide as she could, to the point that her throat showed and opened wide in front of the creature. At that moment, she was sure her fist would definitely fit in her mouth, which was dripping in a thick concoction of her saliva and the soup's water.

The cabbage man - whom she knew was once her jolly co-worker - went all the way to the back of her tongue. She immediately closed her mouth when it landed, and to her surprise, she felt the creature flail inside, running to her lips. But it's leafy body can only tickle her mouth. She giggled as she felt it slip and slide along the dark and moisty cave. It's a surreal, having someone inside your mouth. Yet she giggled and swished the flailing creature to her right cheek, ready to crush it with her molars.

It staggered away, back to her tongue. Her tongue brought it back to her right cheek. She chewed down, but before she could crush its pesky body, it crawled away again.

Frustrated, she threw it on the direction it was crawling: to her left cheek. Before it could react, she quickly crushed it, making a crunchy yet rubbery sound that cabbages do.

It flailed even wilder upon being bitten. So she bit it again and again, chewing. Her spit thickening as it mixed with the perishing leaf between her molars.

The flailing went slower and slower, but never stopped. In fact, the creature was still fairly intact, feeling like a tiny, rubbery skeleton.

Almost disgusted, she swallowed the savory mass. She swore she could feel it struggling against her throat.

The rest of the afternoon went usually, much to the cops' disbelief. No stomachache whatsoever.

She didn't tell them, but she did feel some sort of vibrations and... a presence inside her stomach. As her stomach purred as it churned the soup, she felt something - someone - boiling. Later that afternoon, she felt her bowels processing some vibration that felt like its merging with her fat body. Maybe it was all her imagination. She could only imagine the cabbage man, screaming as it succumbed in her stomach acid, barely moving as it swam in her solidifying mass of shit. Dying, and becoming a part of her. She knew vegetables take time to digest. Sometimes, they come out of your asshole intact... like the cabbage man.

When she felt the sudden need to poo, it was almost the end of work. Almost 5 PM.

Should she tell the cops about how the cabbage felt like slimy worms? Or how it moved on the toilet bowl? It looked like a discolored and burned down leaf, covered in a semi-solid mass of shit. What exactly one would expect an undigested leaf would look like. No. She just shat, and that's the only thing the cops had to know.

But oh, it moved. Like a rat caught in a sticky trap. It struggled to move against the pile of shit surrounding it. It cemented it, but it persevered. It looked up at her, trying to resist the sticky goo that was bigger than its entire body. And in a very Stan-like manner, it tilted its head. It looked like devoid of life though, a zombie, compared her coworker. Cabbages don't have skeletons, but if they do, it'll be like that: lifeless, only consists of branches and burned leaves...

She washed her ass. After that, she dressed up. It didn't bother her that her male coworker just saw her ass. Her ass doing business as a matter of fact. But she didn't care, because as soon as she flushes the mixed-up puddle of shit and water in the bowl, he'll be gone and irrelevant. The creature wasn't even on the surface anymore. It sank and got mixed-up in the water-shit concoction when she washed her ass.

She grinned and flushed the toilet. And Stan the cabbage man was gone.