VigoRx - 1.3 - The Clean Up
VigoRxChapter I - The Get TogetherPart 3 - The Clean UpIn the Lab"So your friends have been affected, too?"Brett nods, continuing to towel off the spunk.Bob rubs his temples. "Shoot! God save us if all your friends have reached the final stages by the time we get there. I'm not sure the van can hold it."Jean chimes in, "I don't know. It's a modified flatbed truck. Should handle it, especially with extra space we have with the cabin connected to the specimen section.""Sure, hopefully," Bob nods. "If we can all keep ourselves under control."Brett cocks his head, while he cleans some goo from around his ear. "What do you mean?""I'm what?" Bob eyes himself against the door. "Eight feet tall right now, still coming down? Jean is about 10 still. Before you came in, Jean put that dent," Bob points at a twisted metal brace in the open rafters, "when he reached up to grab something while we were.." Bob's voice trails as he blushes."That's a twenty foot ceiling," Brett exclaims."When a subject gets aroused, they can.." Jean pauses and rephrases, "We can get about up to three times our original size, depending how much raw hormone we had ingested." "Jesus. I'm sorry. I didn't know anything about the side effects. I was just.." Brett's voice trails.The room goes silent. Bob shrugs. "Well, thankfully subjects, like ourselves, will usually go back to about one point five times their original size, so we'll almost look plausible in height. Just have to avoid getting aroused, because that triggers it again." Another moment of silence, then Bob raises his hands and lets them fall. "What's done is done, I guess. We need to get going, and I just I hope we have enough time to get to the cabin." Brett winces and shakes his head, "I only got a taste. I didn't swallow anything.""That doesn't matter a whole bunch, I'm afraid. Maybe it will give us another half-an-hour," Bob says wavering his hand. "By sounds of it, your friends aren't going to last long, and that only leaves you. I don't know if any of the rest of us are safe enough, or even small enough, to drive." Brett stands up and drops the towel. "So our getting there depends on me not touching myself, and we have an hour or two before that starts getting hard. And your cabin is about three hours away..." Bob nods then points at the stacked items, "Grab the specimens, Jean. I'll get the test kits and some cleaner for the house. Brett, since you'll be getting your house, too, why don't you dump the cleaner here as well. No reason for multiple people getting burns."At Brett's GarageBrett punches the garage door opener beside his mirror, and the door slowly creeks down. He bounces his head, chanting, "C'mon," as if by magic it would move faster. Impatiently he hops out of the car, not caring if his neighbors catch a glimpse of a man covered in semen starched clothes. He swings the back door to his house open and darts down inside. Brett starts to say, "what's the damage?" as he moves into the living room, but stops short of, "the." John sits naked in his living room, ripped and muscular like a sports god, but 11 feet tall, if he could stand. Michael was punching Grant, who has a mean ten inches dripping and wanting to be used. "Don't touch it, asshole!" Michael is barking, bruising Grant's arm. Grant slumps his shoulders and takes a deep breath. "Okay... I'll try. I'll try." He shakes his head and holds his arms up behind his head, like distance between the stroking hand and the stroking instrument can stop the want. John turns a giant's gaze at Brett, and it isn't friendly. The brows deepen harder, and Brett's guilt mangled his internals while John looked ready to mangle the rest.Brett looks at the floor, mustering the words and says, "You can kill me after we get there." Brett puts an industrial bucket on the floor. "You get all the stuff together?"Michael grabs gallon baggies of cum and puts them in the bucket. "This is all we could sop up."Brett lids it then takes it out to the garage. He comes back with a mask and two jugs of fluid. "You guys better get in the van. This is going to suck."Grant and Michael go first, John then practically crawling behind themBrett then opens the jugs and starts soaking the splotches in the carpet. An acrid smoke rises and spreads as mist across the whole apartment. He tries to find every clumpy splotch, but he knows he doesn't have long. He dumps both containers then runs out the back door. Striping quickly, he swaps the smoky garments for the goofy clothes that Michael had grabbed for him earlier. As he pulls up some short short like swim trunks, ankle length socks and a Christmas sweater, he knows this was just the start of the punishment he had coming for drugging his friends. Brett sits back in the drivers seat and punches the garage controls. As the door opens, he stares at the smoke leaking around the frame of the always poorly fitted door. In moments the paint turns to goop and pools by the footing. Within hours his windows will be etched, his knickknacks will be putty, his carpet a slurry. The wood of his furniture will splinter and bit by bit crumble. Anything biological will be dust and decontaminated. Unfortunately, just with moments exposure, his skin will turn red anywhere it was exposed, and his blond hair is going to turn bleached white. For possibly ruining four people's lives, he feels that it is a good down payment for penance, losing everthing. He turns the car into reverse and looks into his rear view. Michael is slapping Grant, telling him to heel. They sit against the back doors, where they won't block much of the tinted view. Bob and Jean are spooning on the right. John is reclined on the left, holding his head in obvious distress. Brett dwells his eyes a moment too long on John, and John looks right at him. Brett averts his eyes, but still, in his periphery, he can see John shake his head in disbelief and betrayal. The vehicle starts to move backwards. Grant punches the garage controller. The Door swings down and seals the melting apartment. The men start west.