"It's a litter box."

The first clear words from Anderson's mouth, after immeasurable time of blubbering and faint gasps, was such. He held one of his new, regrown fingers out to the loose stack of hay-like buildup in the corner of his container. "That's where we're supposed to, where we have to shit. Fuck. Fuck, that's what they want from me... I'm not an animal! I'm not shitting in there!"

Pedro called over the side of his tank: "Yeah, we can tell you aren't. Smells like ass."

Tessay kept covering his groin with the corner of the mattress, the smallest amount of privacy provided. "I... Uhm, I think ass doesn't smell that bad..."

"Girl ass, sure." Pedro paced about, swinging his arms. "I didn't come here to sniff just ANY FUCKER's bod - unlike some people here."

Hadi shivered. "Bello is not any fucker."
Bello quickly covered the smaller girl with her hands. "And you are not just some person."

"Piss off. Just, piss off..." Anderson moaned.

In response, Pedro's fist slammed the walls. "Where to? We're in here together."

Liu took another sip from the small amount of liquid provided via tubes. "You guys... Come on. Anderson... We saw what happened to him. He's had it the worst."

Pedro's foot tapped. "Asked for the worst, too. If you've commissioned anyone in this fuckin' community, you know that you don't just say 'give me anything', and you know that nobody's really 'no limits'. He had his head so far up his fat ass, he didn't bother thinking about what to ask the doc for."

With a head peeking out, Tessay chuckled dryly. "Well, I hope I was specific enough... I'm nowhere near as small as I wanted to be."

Holding her "tankmate" close, Bello nodded. "Don't worry. We're together, no matter what. This will be great."
"It's already great..." Hadi nuzzled in closer. "Your arms are so warm... I know you understand me more than anyone..."
Bello tapped her back. "We really are like one here."

Liu stirred. "I'm still not sure..."

STOMP.

The swift, pounding steps of high boots made the slight droplets of moisture across the life-support system stir and drop. A thin ray of light cut across it, with the shadow of a bucket hat - a shadow that approached the shrunken patients' area, with louder steps each time.

Veronica's nose twitched as she entered. Her palm was stretched out, with her black jacket swaying from her wrist; enough room for two people in the space between fabric and scarred, stitched skin. Even with the strength in her stride, it was evident that she was trying to be careful with whatever she carried.

"Huh... the weirdos got quiet as soon as I came in." With a "free hand", she held her hip.

On instinct, Anderson rolled away from her looming shadow. A bit of soft, fluffy cotton landed on his twitching, cold back. A shirt - the stitches and seams were all over the place, but it was his size. Even a better fit than many of his older clothes in the closet, once he got his head through the slightly-too-narrow opening. Next to it, pants, similarly made from whatever was lying around. His legs still complained as he slid them in.

By the time he looked back up to the giant room's visitor - (or were they rather visitors in HER room?) - Veronica had already turned to the adjacent enclosure. "There. No one wants to see you pervs' tiny parts, and Fran wouldn't let me cut them off. So I made a cover."

Tessay finally came out from his spot, and obediently slipped into the clothes - which were roughly proportional to his own scale. "Woah."

Hadi had quickly scurried into Bello's shirt before her own had even been plopped in. "It's warm..."
"That should help with your body heat..."

Pedro grunted, looking at the small piece of clothing that fluttered in as if it were a discarded tissue. "Really. We've been left for DAYS now, and that's all we get?"

The tower of Veronica glared back. "It hasn't even been eight hours! Someone your age, getting this impatient..."

The robe that Liu received fit her perfectly - and the white hue complimented her, when she looked at her reflection in the glassy wall. It was like wearing a minuscule cloud. "You made these yourself? That's... well crafted. Those are..." She swallowed, looking to the palms. "... Precise hands."

Said hand clutched her dark-clad chest on instinct, while she sweated. "Yeah, I... I'm good with needles. Why wouldn't I be?!"

Behind her, Anderson moaned. "Needles...! Needles, don't hurt me...! No, don't de-limb me again! Fuck, fuckfuck fuck..."

"I'm not gonna." She squeezed her collar, appearing to duck into it. "Look. Don't lump me in with Fran. We both share a debt to The Professor... But I really can't get her most of the time."

"Yeah, don't lump them together. They're different." Liu called out.

Veronica leaned over the tank, her dark hair fluttering a little in the windless room. "Even you freaks shouldn't suffer. Better to have a warrior's death than all that pain, right?"

"Exactly... You get exactly how we feel." Sniffling a little, Liu trod carefully in the new clothing. "That's why a lot of, uhm, us people are focused on such violent stuff... we want the best way to go out without regrets or agony." She hid her hands behind her back.

With a quick blink, Veronica averted her eyes. "Uh, it... It looks good on you. Hah, almost like a doll." She stepped away. "It'd be cuter if you weren't going on about all this depraved stuff."

There was only a fleeting moment of peace after the younger Madaraki left. It was as if she knew her older sister was coming - and didn't want to be caught talking with the subjects.

This time, Fran was in full uniform: a blood-red ribbon around a smock, with lab coat fluttering behind. What was much stranger was the person trailing on the coattails - if that bipedal figure could be called a "person". Like an Egyptian mummy, bandages covered everything from the cautious feet, to noticeably large breasts, to her scalp. No eyes, mouth, or nostril appeared, simply swaying tufts of silky black hair, done up surprisingly well. She leaned over the surgeon's shoulder and peeked at the chart.

"Yes, Adorea..." Fran patted her wrapped hand. "These are the same people from the resizing operation. Everyoo~oone, Adorea." She held a floppy, stitched hand, to present the mummified assistant. "You might've been too sleepy to notice, but she was there to help you and me in the operating room."

In response, Adorea bowed silently, and gave a shy wave, holding the cloaked approximation of what would be her cheek.

When he stopped shivering, Tessay lifted a hand up to wave back. "Hey."

"Some kinda bandage babe...?" Pedro didn't lower his voice.

"Please..." Anderson kept clutching to his shoulder and calves.

"She's been so very busy helping around lately, so I'm so~orry this couldn't happen earlier. Now, I think it was Pedro who signed for this..." Fran started unwrapping the pure white rolls surrounding her leg. "You specified, time with odorous feet?"

The man nodded, stepping up. "Yeah, that's me alright. I'm sure those smelly feets'll be worth it, after all this time."

Continually working down the leg, peeling more of the covering off, Fran had to look up to see him - the bolts on her head brushing against Adorea's knee, making her flinch. "This is very unscientific, but I have to admit... I'm excited to study the effects strong scents can have on a body at prolonged exposure. Especially with this unique cellular structure, and your current... state of mind."

Seeing more and more pale thigh emerging, the man within the tank couldn't help but let his hand wander around his naked groin. "Ooh, baby, THAT'S talking my language. Man, Adorea's feet must have some real funk, right?"

"Yes, precisely~" She nodded.

"Nice 'n warm soles?"

"Warmth is very importaa~ant." Fran smiled.

"And her legs, they..." Pedro squinted down at the shapes exposed from the unwrapped cloth. "They have... zippers?"

Just as he said, a zipper was installed right on Adorea's leg. She kept standing straight as Fran pulled on the slider, peeling back the skin as if it were another layer of clothing. A wet mouth opened below.

Pedro felt himself fling back seeing the flash of pink and red within. "WH-Okay... Okay, okay, you got me. Shit. That's a nice trick, but her feet, man..."

"Her feet are in here. Zipper Number 27, if the records are consistent..." Fran reached her hand into the leg, and sounds rang through the room somewhat like macaroni stirring in a pot. In the enclosure to the side, Anderson hunched over the "litter box", and started vomiting.

The doctor continued: "Thanks to the Professor giving her unique gifts, Adorea's interior forms a perfect storage for spare organs. Her body temperature is regulated to keep them preserved. And one of those organs she holds..." Her face lit up, like an old woman reaching in a basket to give out Halloween candy. "...is a particularly infected foot~!"

*PLOMP-splat.*

The Foot made a wet noise as Fran flopped it out of the "container", and next to Pedro. It landed on a filth-coated heel; buckled; and fell over on a bunion, the twisted large toe hovering right over the minuscule man. Its whorls were prominent, sagging so much they looked like they were about to drop off onto him. Every wrinkle across it was like a trench. Bits of brown residue had built up on the second and pinky toes, from the tip to the too-long nails - which appeared to have a yellow-green polish. Plump flesh had bloated all across the flattened sole, showing prominent, worming wrinkles.

"Ah. Achck..." Pedro kept reeling back. "That's... what the hell... is this... thing?"

Adorea turned her head away, covering her mouth in embarrassment. She hastily wrapped the bandage back around her leg zipper.

Fran paced around the glass room, the very edge of her finger tracing its roofless walls. "It's quite interesting. I will withhold her name for purposes of confidentiality, but... This foot comes from a retired woman, fond of travel. She was lost in a rainforest for two weeks and three days, before being found with this. She requested an amputation... Or maybe 'begged' is the proper word? Adorea's been keeping the foot safe since, for further evaluation."

Coughing emerged from below, as Pedro struggled to take it all in. He instinctively crawled back until his spine was against the other wall - where Hadi and Bello could see his naked, quivering backside.

Putting on a surgical glove, Fran's other hand poked at the sole - which oozed at the slightest pressure. "Before the trip, our anonymous patient suffered from toenail fungus, and compulsive skin picking and peeling urges - dermatillomania. Due to rainfall, and the area's naturally damp climate, she spent much of the time with her ankles submerged. This led to her developing immersion foot, also known as trench foot. Look here! Notice the arch, and the ball... There's severe tissue loss."

Flakes of the dank, pungent skin peeled off from a soft brushing. They revealed even more and more layers of damaged flesh, around the hillocks of fetid corns and calluses.

"Now after some time of this, the flow of blood and oxygen was cut off, and the skin developed gangrene. But that's where my expertise ends. There's another infection I still haven't been able to identify... Maa~aaybe one of you can help! Thanks to your fetish, you're much better acquainted with feet than I aa~am."

From the outside, Liu could barely see what was happening. The container was fogging from the intense change in temperature, simply by the sole being exposed.

With his hands on his chest, Pedro lifted his neck. His eyes stung from the stinking presence. "I thought... I thought you'd give me a foot... attached to a fucking leg...!"

Fran blinked, rubbing below her lip with her wrist. "Ah. I knew I was missing soo~oomething." She turned to her assistant. "Adorea, give me a leg from Zipper Number 12. Pedro wants me to stitch it on."

The assistant shrugged, and reached down.

"NO! No more of that--!" Pedro coughed. He started losing control of his mouth, saliva dripping down either end of his lip. "I didn't come here for... for anyone's foot! I want... I want your... your feet! Fuck, Fran, give me your foot!"

The doctor peered down at her shoes. With a shrug, she removed one - showing the glossy surface below, stitched together with uneven toe lengths.

"Yeah! Caah... That's the good shit, that's... NO!" His eyes went bloodshot.

Fran twisted her ankle, as if taking the lid off a thermos, and removed her own foot, a bloodied stump behind it. She dropped it right next to the existing one, such that the toes were barely brushing each other, forming a roughly triangular area. It was damp and clammy, with a slightly bloated heel. The occupant of the glass house was entirely surrounded, and could no longer stand on his own feet.

"Fucking..."

The older Madaraki sister leaned onto Adorea for support, placing a lid with minuscule air holes on it - which closed the speck in. "We'll continue examining how your body reacts to these severe, though nonlethal, conditions. This gives me lots of interesting information, so plee~ease enjoy yourself to the fullest~"

Pedro began calling after her, but his voice was muffled by the enclosure - then by mucus building up in his throat. It smelled of vinegar, corn, deep cheddar, fish, sulfur, and filthy washrooms, mixing together in a salty cloud above him. A stinging sensation flared at his nose. As he plugged his nose, it assaulted his tongue. Tears trickled down him - or it may have been sweat, or oozing drool. His fists slammed at the floor, whimpering.

As she left the door, she turned back for a final thought, to the other subjects frozen in shock: "You're having a fairly strong reaction. Usually, mucus and nose hairs are enough to defend against bacteria entering the sinuses. I reduced the size of those to facilitate respiration, so maa~aybe it's especially potent for you. However, I wonder..." She waved a hand in front of her nose. "Rats are known for their strong olfactory epitheliums, giving hightened senses of smell. Perhaps your nose is collecting even more data than the computers right now!"