The Joke's On Us (Patreon)

 A Note From Personalias:  So as a little bit of April Fool's Day fun, I teamed up with Peculiar Changeling.  Our challenge?  To each write a short story centered around a prank gone bad, but share it anonymously.  Can you tell which of us wrote which story?  

Tyler turned his camera around to get his face.  “Hey wussup?” He said. “It’s Tyler time!  I’m your boy, Tyler, and it’s my favorite time of the year!  No, not Christmas!  Not Easter!  Not even Halloween!  It’s…” Tyler stopped himself.  “Yknow what?” he lowered his voice into a stage whisper.  “I’m not gonna say it out loud.  I don’t want to accidentally wake up and tip off my favorite prey…”  

Tyler giggled theatrically.  His Youtube audience was gonna get a kick out of this.  This next bit was going to get him well past the two million mark on subscribers.  Instant viral!  As he had countless times on countless videos, Tyler took his audience on a quick tour of the tiny apartment he and his roommate, Mark, shared.

Mark and Tyler were a team of sorts.  Tyler was the charismatic on-screen presence that lured in subscribers with his boyish good looks and natural overflow of charisma.  Mark helped edit.  Mark was something of a computer genius yada yada blah blah blah next Steve Jobs something something.  Tyler didn’t care very much about that. 

What he also was was the greatest straight man Tyler had ever had the chance to happen across.  The way he overreacted to Tyler’s trademark hilarious hijinks and various pranks was what had caused Tyler to actually go viral and be able to make money creating content.  The last six months had been particularly good to him and Tyler’s growth had been exponential.  Finally, shit was paying off!

If Tyler was proof that shock humor and Johnny Knoxville levels of Jackassery were still profitable, Mark was proof that a comedian was only as good as his straight man, a prankster only as good as his victim, and a conman was only as good as his...well, mark.  Where would Costella have been without Abbot?  Where would Tommy Smothers have been without Dick, or Tom Green without his parents?  Where would Tyler have been without Mark?  That’s why Tyler opted to pay Mark’s share of the rent some months.

As if in answer, Tyler took a sharp left run out of his bedroom and did a U-Turn into their shared bathroom.  Closing the door, behind him, Tyler continued to narrate in a not-quite whisper.  “Okay, so here I am in the bathroom, la commode if you will, knowwhatImsayin’?”  He walked over to the toilet, its lid suspiciously down for once.  “I’ve already did my morning business,” he said, “And then some.  Check this out.  You guys watching at home, don’t scream.”

With one foot back and camera in hand, Tyler put his free hand on the lid of the toilet.  Flipping open the toilet lid, Tyler stepped back just in time for the king cobra to pop out and hiss.  Tyler had to cover his mouth to muffle his own laughter.  “Okay okay, my Tyler Tribe,” he said,  “check it out:  Fake, but very realistic looking toilet cobra, complete with hissing action, and this is a new feature, hidden camera in the mouth.”  Tyler pointed at the camera and made the mental note to edit in a few shots from the faux snake’s point of view in today’s final cut.

“I just hope for Mark’s sake,” he joked, “that he hasn’t dropped trow before he opens this bad boy up.  Otherwise, your screens are gonna get a LOT of blur, cuz nobody wants to see that!”  Tyler put down his handheld and started talking directly into the hidden camera.  “The real trick, oh honorary initiates of the cobra clan,”  he said, “is to be patient and lie in wait for our target.  I can’t wake him up or he’ll know something is up, especially knowing what today is!  So I just gotta lie in wait and hope that nature calls my boy sooner instead of later.”  

His stomach burbled, and Tyler felt a slight cramp.  He turned his own camera first to his belly and then back to his face;  hoping that the camera’s mic and the good acoustics of the bathroom would pick up the sounds of his bowels starting to wake up.  “See what I mean, guys?    It’s like going on a car trip.  You don’t gotta go until you’re already buckled in and on the road.  The sacrifices I’m prepared to make for my art.”

As he did in so many of his videos, Tyler made the ASL sign for the letter T.  “And as always, I give you my solemn word that I am up to no good and that none of what you’re about to see is staged.” He gave his wrist a shake in what he thought of his own variation on the shaka gesture.  Ironic, considering that it actually meant ‘toilet’ in American Sign Language.  

Despite his pledge of one-hundred percent prank authenticity, Tyler knew it to be a lie.  They’d been rooming together for close to two years at this point.  There was absolutely no way Mark wasn’t suspecting something by this point in their relationship.  More accurately, Tyler’s bits were more akin to seasoned improv than true candidness.  Mark didn’t know when the hammer was going to boom (and thanks to a dozen or so public pranks, even the subject of when wasn’t certain) but he knew it was going to boom.  

But Mark was a professional of sorts, and knew how to react in just the right way for maximum believability.  Surprise.  Shock.  Embarrassing screaming.  Swearing.  Sometimes even swearing through the door.  By the end of the day though, Mark was the one editing the final cut together, uncredited, so that Tyler could post it to his increasingly popular Youtube channel.  Beyond rent and the occasional free meal, Mark and Tyler never talked about it, but they were on the same page.

“Okay,” Tyler said back to his own camera, “Now we just gotta stuff everything back in place and wait for an opportunity to strike.  Get it?  Stri-”

THUMP-THUMP-THUMP-THUMP!

A knock on the apartment door.  Shit!  That was unplanned for!  “Fuck!” he swore.  He’d have to edit that part, (or make Mark do it) later.   “The door!”  Hoping the spring on the fake cobra would hold, Tyler jetted out into the apartment’s living room.  It wouldn’t do for his roommate to see him exit the bathroom and see him with a camera.  It’d give the game away. 

“Somebody’s at the door,” Tyler whispered to his future audience.  A lightbulb turned on in his brain.  “I GOT IT!” He yelled.  “COMING!”   He made big clomping steps towards the door.  “I don’t know who’s here,” he whispered, “but this is a perfect excuse to wake Mark up.”  Close to two years of talking to a camera had all but destroyed Tyler’s inner monologue.

“Who is it?”  Mark’s voice called out, muffled by distance and a closed door.

Tyler kept his camera trained on the door.  “Don’t know,” he called back.  “Checking now.  Go back to sleep!”  Tyler turned the camera so he could get a cartoonish wink in.  This would work.

Mark’s door squeaked open.  Through the crack, his victim called out. “Alright,” Mark yawned.  “Fuck it. I’m up.”  YAS!  Reverse psychology for the win!  “I’ll be out in a minute.”

“Naw, dude.  Don’t worry about it.  Just go to sleep.”  Tyler opened the door.  A brown box was left on the doorstep.  “Oh-ho! What do we have here? Fed-Ex express?”  He zoomed in on the box, and focused on the label.  It had Tyler’s name and their apartment address on it.  “I don’t remember ordering anything.  Hold on a second.”

The internet prankstar (okay okay, he was still workshopping that last name), placed his camera on top of the package so he could bring it in and close the door behind him.  Picking the camera back up, Tyler continued his presentation.  Worst case scenario this was nothing and would get edited out in post.  “I don’t remember ordering anything.”

“Do you guys think…?” Tyler paused, “Only certain people know where I live.  Everything else goes to a P.O. box.  Do you, my Tyler Tribe, think that Mark has finally decided to try and pull one over on yours truly?  Let’s find out together, yeah?”

Much like he had with the toilet, Tyler prepared for something to jump out at him.  Glitter bombs were very much a thing and he wouldn’t put it past Mark to try something basic like that.  He placed the camera on the coffee table so it would catch him, one foot back, the other foot ready to push off and retreat as he went to open the top of the booby trap.  “A-haa...aaaaa?”  

Tyler leapt back to nothing but the opening of cardboard flaps and the ripping of clear packing tape.  “Alright,” he admitted.  “Not what I thought, but you can never be too careful.  Let’s dig a little deeper.”  

A little more relaxed, Tyler stepped up and reached in, taking out the package.  “The fuck is this?”  A clear plastic package lifted out of the box; inside were ten puffy white objects folded kind of like towels and stacked up against each other like tighty whities .  

Only they weren’t quite towels. Nor were they tighty whities. They weren’t even completely white.  Tyler turned the package over in his hands.  Through the clear plastic, he could see childish drawings of cartoon animals peeking out as if they were shy or playing hide and seek.  

He gave the package a gentle squeeze and felt the stuffed, almost plushy give from the content; and that crinkle wasn’t just coming from the container; either.  Tyler turned over and caught a label on the sides.  “The fuck are…?” he paused trying to pronounce it phonetically, “Peekaboos?”

It finally clicked in Tyler’s head, just in time for the creek of Mark’s door to be caught on camera. “Diapers?”  he laughed, bending over so the camera could see him.  “He got me diapers?  Is this some kind of, I dunno, commentary on me?  Like I’m childish, or something?  I mean, duh. But this is kinda lame.”  Mark’s heavy sleep filled footsteps rattled the floor as he stumbled out of his room.

“Mark you sonofabitch,” Tyler called out, theatrically.  “I’m gonna get you back for this!”  The prank was so lame there was nothing to get back at, but the emphasis on revenge was a clever ploy to lull Mark into thinking nothing had been set up yet.  What was the point of the diapers, anyways?  

Like, was Mark going to raid his underwear drawer or something? Naw.  Tyler only wore underwear forty-five percent of the time.  Maybe do the old hand and warm water trick and replace his pants with diapers as an insult to injury?   Mark wasn’t that smooth or that stealthy, and Tyler would just Donald Duck it to get revenge.  Piss filled frozen diapers to use as projectiles?  What was the play here?

“Huh?” Mark yawned.  “Whatever.”  Tyler stowed such speculation away and picked his camera back up as Mark shuffled into the bathroom. Twisting the camera around he made an exaggerated shushing noise and put his finger to his lips.  “It’s time to strike.  Get it?”

He held his breath and tiptoed into the hallway to get the bathroom door in frame.

Tyler waited.  

Didn’t have to wait long, though.

“AAAAAAAAAH!”  Mark’s terrified bellows rattled the walls a split second before the bathroom door flung open.  “MOTHER FUCK!”  Pajamas around his ankles, Tyler’s roommate leaped out of the bathroom, tripping over his own feet and slamming into the nearby wall.

Tyler’s cackling, howling laughter peeled out but he kept the camera steady.  It caught Mark’s panicked fearful expression as he scrambled to his feet and slammed.  It was then that Mark turned and realized what Tyler was holding, or how hard he was laughing.

Yanking his pajama bottoms back up his legs, Mark looked past the camera and to its holder. “A cobra?!” he shrieked. “A fucking cobra!  You bastard!”  The look on his face, of shock and betrayal, was genuine.  “How’d you get a fucking cobra?!”

“Hey,” Tyler said, trying to calm his friend down.  “Hey...hey Mark.  Mark?  Hey Mark.”  Mark was close to hyperventilating.  This was all par for the course.

“WHAT?!”  Mark looked absolutely livid.  His fists balled up in rage.  He wasn’t going to swing on Tyler, he knew.  Mark never swung.  It’s just that the angrier he reacted, the funnier it was in post.  Perfect improvisation disguised as candidness. 

“The snake is fake, brosef.  April fools!”

Mark stopped, his eyes finally clearing of panic and anger. “Oh fuck…!” he said.  “Really?”

“Yeah! Dude!  April fools! Gotcha!” 

Mark stopped, his eyes clouding over, talking to himself.  He licked his lips and slowed his breathing.  “You sure about that, Tyler?”

Tyler laughed softly.  “Yeah dude.  That’s all it is.  I pranked you.  April fools.”

His roommate breathed deeply and then stood up a little straighter.  He wasn’t.  “I’m not talking about April fools.  I’m asking, ‘did you really get me?’.”  With deft hands he snatched the camera away from Tyler and turned it back on him.  “Did you get me?  Or did I just get you?”

“Hey!”  Tyler complained.  “Give that back dude! You don’t gotta be a bad sport or nothin’.”

Mark let out a laugh, but it wasn’t hyper or manic or friendly like Tyler’s.  There was something dark about it.  Dark and menacing.  “Hey Tyler,” he said.  “How are your pants?”

“How are my…?” Tyler asked, confused.  He looked down, thinking maybe Mark had planted something on him.  Instead, he was treated to the sight of a dark spot spreading on the front of his khakis.  The fuck?!  

Instead of reacting normally, Tyler’s body went on a kind of shocked auto-pilot.  In place of running to the bathroom, his legs planted themselves in place; knees locked as piss trickled out of his shorts and writhed down his legs.  Rather than try to cover his shame, his arms shot out to the side making it look like he was a poor tightrope walker as a puddle of urine soaked his shoes.  And instead of letting out a series of panicked swear words, the only thing Tyler could shout was, “PEEEEE-PEEEEEEEEEEE!”

The fuck was going on.  “What you do to me?” Tyler asked his friend.  He was so scared that he barely noticed that it was getting hard and harder to talk- harder to think-by the second.

The camera was still in Mark’s hand, trained on Tyler as he finished wetting himself like a toddler who’d been taken out of Pull-Ups too soon.  Mark didn’t answer Tyler’s question, instead asking “Hey Tyler, how old are you?”

Tyler opened his mouth to answer, but instead of what he wanted to say, out came, “Me one!”  The response felt unnatural and forced.  The fear and fury that Tyler was feeling was genuine.  Mark started laughing.

“You’re one?!” Mark said, “I thought you were a grown-up like me.”  The smile on Mark’s lips was anything but friendly.   His roommate was mocking him.  Baiting him.

The Youtuber felt his knees shaking and his lip trembling  “Me widdle baby!” he heard himself say.  “Me pee-peed in pants!”

Mark almost doubled over in laughter at Tyler’s babyish lisp.  Tyler himself felt powerless.  Something in his brain, his very nervous system was paralyzing him.  Somehow, he ‘knew’ that he shouldn’t move if there was pee-pee piddling down his legs in the same way he knew that the sky was blue.   Already, the piss in the open air was beginning to cool, leaving the stain on his crotch feeling clammy and uncomfortable. At least the camera wasn’t on him just now.  

His roommate finished a fresh round of laughter that would have made the Joker proud. “Yup!” he said, still gasping for breath.  “Yes you did sport.  You went pee-pee.  Are you sure you’re potty trained?”

What kind of question was that?  Of course he was!  Without a medical condition, who his age wouldn’t be?  Despite himself, Tyler was shaking his head.  “Nuh-uh.  Me need  diapees!”  Shit!   He couldn’t even say ‘diapers’ right!  Even worse, he was having an increasingly difficult time staying focused.  The edges of his world were getting fuzzy.

Very slowly, very carefully, Mark spoke. “Do you want a diaper change?”

“Yuh-huh!”  The words came out easily.  Automatically.  There wasn’t a nano-second left to Tyler to hesitate as he began nodding.  He was wet and his big boy pants were feeling awfully yucky just now.  “NO!” he yelled out.  “NO I DON’T!”

Mark’s eyebrow raised a smidge.  “What was that, Tyler?”

“NO!” Tyler screamed.  “I...don’t...wanna...wear...BIG BOY PANTS!”  Something else was piloting the driver’s seat of Tyler’s brain, and it was steering him right towards preschool.  “Me wanna… NO!”  He stomped his foot, splashing his ankles in the process.

“Try again, baby boy.” Mark said.  “Do you wanna wear diapers or big boy pants?”

Tyler was panting now.  “I...wanna...WEAR DIAPEES!”  He was crying and smiling at the same time.  “Me wanna pee-pee and poo-poo in diapees!”  And for the moment it was true.  The thought of wearing nice, soft, crinkly diapers that would hold his accidents in so he could be silly and play all he wanted sounded like an all expenses paid vacation to Disneyland just then.  Who didn’t want to go to Disneyland?

“I thought so, bubba,” Mark grinned.  “Let’s go get you changed.  Go to your bedroom, I’ll meet you there.”  

Tyler didn’t hesitate.  His hear was pounding through his shirt.  He’d finally get to wear diapees!  (Finally? The heck did that come from?)  Trying his best to speed things up Tyler began to fiddle with his pants, but the button wouldn’t come undone.  “HELP!” he cried. “HEEELLLP!”

“No one’s going to help you now, baby boy,” Mark said as he came into Tyler’s room.  “It’s way too late to help you.”  In his hands were two of the diapers that Tyler so desperately needed and some wipes.  “Had to stop by my room to get the wipes,” he said.

Bottom lip still pouting out Tommy turned around and pointed down to his ruined pants.  “ME STUCK!”

“You’re…?”  Finally Mark understood.  (Why did it take grown-ups so long to understand some things?)  “Ooooh, you need help getting your pants off?  Little Tyler nodded, fighting off a sniffle. Mark put the diapers and wipes on a nearby swivel chair before he reached down and unbuttoned Tyler’s pants for him; even pulling them down for him and telling him to step out.   “Lay down,” he said.

Little Tyler obeyed.

Mark opened up the baby wipes and began to clean Tyler up, making sure to clean his penis for him.  “We’ll have to shave you a little later.  It’ll make it a whole easier to clean you up.”

“CWEAN!” Tyler giggled as his best friend cleaned his cock and balls for him, caressing his inner thighs and pubic area before dabbing off his taint.  

Tyler laid on his bed as Daddy Mark reached over and picked up the two diapers he’d brought in.  “Which one do you want, champ?” he said.  “The dragon or the racoon?”  Tyler clapped his hands uncontrollably.  He wanted the dragon.  It’d be fun to put out the lizard’s fire with his water!  He pointed to the dragon.  “Racoon it is,” Mark said, tossing the diaper that Tyler actually wanted back to the chair.

“AWWWWWW!”

“Don’t worry,” Mark reassured him.  “You’ll get to wear all the diapers you want.  I was just getting you back for making a puddle on the floor.”

Little Tyler giggled.  “Yay! Daddy!”  

Mark blanched.  “Daddy?  Okay, that one was unexpected, but whatevs.”  He unfolded the diaper.  “ Lift your butt up for me, baby boy.”  Like a good boy, Tyler obeyed, planting the bottoms of his feet and pushing his butt up off the mattress so that Daddy could slide the diaper underneath him.  “Okay, down.”

Again, Tyler obeyed, smiling as his hips landed on the extra padding of the super thick diaper.  “Hold still,” his Daddy said. Tyler was so still he was holding his breath as Daddy pulled the diaper up and tucked the sides in.  “One...two...three...four…” he counted as each bit of tape was fastened on, making Tyler feel safe and loved.

“Fankoo Daddy.”

“You’re welcome, Tyler,” Daddy said, “but we’re not done yet. You stay right here.”  Daddy left and then came back with a bottle.  “Here you go buddy.  Something I made up special, just for you.  Drink it up.”

Like a good baby, Tyler accepted the bottle of orange stuff and put it in his mouth, sucking on the nipple for all he was worth, drinking even though he wasn’t all that thirsty.  “Daddy?” he said when he was half finished.  “What you doin’?”

Daddy was just fiddling with the computer.  “Just setting up your webcam to record.”

“WHYYYYYY?”  Tyler asked between pulls on the nipple.

“To record you being your cute little baby self,” Daddy said.

“WHYYYYYY?”

“Because I don’t want either of us to forget this moment. Especially me.”

“WHYYYYYY?”

“Justice.”  Daddy said.  “Karmic Justice.  Now quiet.”

“Okay!”

A few minutes later later, Daddy started talking again, but Tyler got the feeling that he wasn’t talking to him.  “Hey wussup?” Daddy said. “It’s Tyler time!  This is your boy, Tyler, and it’s his favorite time of the day.  What time of day is that?”

Tyler turned his head to look at Daddy.  The little plastic eyeball thingy that Tyler kept on the top of his computer was looking at him.  Daddy was behind it and talking to Tyler.  “Huh?”  Tyler said, looking up from his ba-ba.

Daddy cleared his throat and repeated himself.  “What’s your favorite time of day?”  

“BA-BA!”  Tyler shouted enthusiastically, sloshing his bottle around.

Daddy made a funny face.  “No, it’s supposed to be ‘diaper time’.  You’re supposed to say ‘diaper time’.”

“DIAPEE TIME!”  Tyler made the extra effort to point at his white crinkly diaper with the racoon on the front.  Tyler’s tummy made a funny sound just then.  There was something he needed to do.

Daddy must not have heard the funny nose because he kept talking.  “That’s right, Tyler Tribe.  For April Fool’s day today the master prankster has gotten pranked himself!  Thanks to yours truly, Ma-?”  

Tyler’s daddy stopped talking when he saw what his baby boy was doing.  “Tyler are you really...?”  Tyler was still drinking his bottle, determined to finish the juice his daddy gave him.  But his tummy had other plans that didn’t coincide with his mouth.

Still on the bed and guzzling orange colored juice, Tyler bent lifted his legs, bent his knees and brought them in closer to his tummy, like he was squatting but on his back.  Still sipping, he started to push with his tummy.  “Hrrrnnnnn!”  Then he took another sip from his bottle.

Sip, sip, sip.

PUUUUUUSH!

“Hrrrnnnnn!”

Sip, sip, sip.

PUUUUUSH!

“Hrrnnnnnn!”

On his third push he felt his cheeks separating.  Something was coming out of him.  He pushed again.  His tushie was breathing!  It was hissing in his diaper!  He pushed again.  

It was coming out of him!  It was coming out!  It was…! It was…!

“POOPIE!”

“Holy shit!  He’s doing it!  I didn’t think he’d actually do it!”  Daddy sounded so proud of him!  

BLORT!

He felt the warm mushy stuff finally come out of him and fill up his diaper, ballooning out the back and then spreading around all the way up to just beneath his balls.  It felt so GOOD to get that all out.  Meanwhile, Daddy was laughing for some reason as Tyler did what he knew in his heart he was supposed to do.  “Me good baby,” Tyler cooed.  “Me go poo-poo in diapee!”

“Ha-ha!  Ha!” Daddy laughed.  “That’s right!”  

Tyler lowered his legs back down and felt the poopie get squished around head further back in his diaper.  It was nice, almost the opposite of those wipes daddy used.  And now that he’d poopied, he felt the front of his diaper warming up. “Pee-pee.”

“Again?” Daddy said.  “Oh wow!”

This was how it was meant to be, Tyler knew.  A wet and poopy diaper was SO much better than wet and poopy pants.  And forget the dumb old potty.  Snakes lived there!  He dumped his now empty bottle over the side of his bed and started sucking on his thumb. “Awwwww!” Daddy said.  “All done there, baby Tyler?”

Not quite.  His diaper was feeling so nice that he wanted to do something else with it.  From inside his squishy baby pants, Tyler felt his penis start to get hard.  With his free hand, he started rubbing his penis through his diaper.

Daddy started laughing.  “Oh fuck!  Oh fuck!”  That only made Tyler want to rub harder.  He liked making Daddy happy.  He wanted to be happy, too.

He felt good and wet and warm and sticky. Even the smell of his poopy and wet diaper didn’t make his penis any softer.  Faster he started rubbing, hearing the crinkle of his diaper become more and more of a squish as he started thrusting into his hand.  “I can’t believe he’s doing this!”  Daddy cheered him on.  He wanted to make Daddy proud.  He wanted to feel good. REAL GOOD!”

Sucking his thumb, he rubbed, and with each thrust of his hip, he came down with a stinky squish.  Oh that felt good!

Rub, thrust, squish.  Rub, thrust, squish.  Just like making poopie.  Just had to keep going until it was alllll out.  “Ooooh! Oooh!”  

Little Tyler collapsed on the bed, panting as his cock spasmed and squirted into the disgusting used diaper as Daddy Mark’s laughter elevated to near hyena levels of hysteria.  “How? Tyler asked.  

“You still in there, Tyler?  Little bit?”

Tyler was still sucking on his thumb, couldn’t take the salting thing out if he wanted to, but something in his eyes signaled to Daddy Mark.  The orgasm had sent his brain screaming up for air.  But just like a drowning man, he knew he wouldn’t be above the waves for very long. “How?”  Tyler repeated.  “How Daddy?”

Daddy pressed a button and turned off the webcam.  “I edit your shows, you jackass.  I’ve been putting in subliminal commands for MONTHS.”

“Huh?”  Tyler was regaining his breath but losing his senses at what he was hearing.

Mark stood over Tyler, an angry, nerdy god towering over the big dumb baby.  “Subliminal messaging, idiot. Hypnosis!  I’ve been reprogramming your brain.  Inserting cues here.  Putting in desires there.  I basically just inserted an entirely new personality into your noggin.  And it’s not even a year old!”  Tyler’s roommate threw back his head and laughed.  Tyler couldn’t make himself move.  Daddy didn’t give him permission to.  A little more pee-pee spurted out into his diaper.

“I was worried for a while, but last week when you blacked out and ordered those diapers for yourself, I knew it was working!”

Tyler only whimpered at the revelation.  “Every time you watch your videos, you get a little deeper into it.  I even put in a command to make you want to watch your videos.   Not that your selfish ass needed it.”  Tyler connected the dots.  His content wasn’t improving.  His audience was being drawn in.

“And the trigger was the best part.”  Like a James Bond villain, Mark paused, spreading his arms wide.  “I couldn’t trigger it!  You had to!  All those commands I put in only started surfacing when you, the target, said the words ‘April Fools’!  You did this to yourself!”

“Why, Daddy?” FUCK!  Why couldn’t he just call Mark by his name?

“You’ve abused me and picked on me and taken me for granted.  This is me getting you back. Unlike you. My dignity is not for sale.”

“How wong?”  

Daddy Mark shrugged. “I dunno.  I’m surprised it worked, myself.  Might be a couple days.  Might be permanent.  Might be side effects.  Might not be. Don’t know.  Don’t care.  But I’m gonna humiliate you and broadcast it every day that it lasts.  Don’t worry.  I’ll use your credit card to get you a bunch of new diapers.  Express delivery.”

“Wha’ ‘bout uvvers?”  It was getting harder for Tyler to think.  Harder to think about anything other than his squishy stinky diaper, or sucking on his ba-ba, or playin’ with nice soft baby toys.

“What others?”  Daddy asked.  “What do you mean.”

Mentally, Tyler let out a final gasp.  “Da uvvers who watch baby Tywer’s show?”

Daddy’s mouth dropped open.  “Oh fu-!”

*********************************************************************************************************

“April Fools!”

Reflexively, Carol rubbed her nose as her son laughed his ass off.  She hadn’t expected Gavin to resort to the old something’s-on-your-shirt trick.  “Very funny,” she said dryly.  “So when are you going to start paying rent, again?”  That usually shut her idiot son up.

DING-DONG!

Gavin stopped laughing.  “Mommy!”  he whined.

“Oh don’t you Mommy me, Gavin.”

“PEE-PEE!”  Carol froze as her son started to helplessly wet himself and blubber like a toddler.  “Me go pee-pee, Mommy!  Me baby!  Me need diapees!”

“Honey,” Ben walked back from the front door with an open box and a confused and disgusted look on his face.  “What are these diapers doing here?”

***********************************************************************************************************

“Darren!” Sasha screamed at her husband.  “The fuck is wrong with you?!”  Darren was too busy giggling like an idiot.  “You asshole!  A fake pregnancy test?  Really?  Why would you even joke about that?!”

She slapped him on the shoulder.  Hard.  “Mommy!” he screeched.  Sasha wanted to slap him harder but then he started shitting himself and crying that he needed a diapee.

“Darren!  Ewww!  Gross!  Too far!”

DING-DONG!

*************************************************************************************************************

“It’s gonna be okay, baby,”  Eric cooed as he unfolded the diaper.  “Just...just hang on.”  He was putting on his brave face, but panicking all the same.  “The fuck do these things have four tapes?” he asked.  “I thought they were only supposed to have two!  Which end is the front?”

“Diapee!  Diapee! Diapee!”

His little sister had been crying about her boyfriend cheating on her.  Eric had been getting ready to get his shotgun just before she broke out the engagement ring he’d given her last night and started howling like a coyote.   Eric had laughed too.  He didn’t have to kill that sumbitch!

That was half-an-hour ago and things had gone downhill from there.  Now his kid sister was living up to her moniker and was crying like a brat with colic while peeing over everything.  Out of ideas, he took the pack of diapers that landed on their doorstep and was putting one on her if only to spare his furniture. 

Last time she was like this, he wasn’t old enough to be on diaper duty.  Now he was a fuckin’ babysitter!

She started rubbing herself between her legs.  “Hey!  You’re not supposed to do that at um...your age!” 

*********************************************************************************************************

And so this scene played itself out again and again, in a little over a million variations across the world….

(The End?)