As the two of us sat at the table eating our dinner, it took all of my restraint to keep from laughing every time he picked up his chocolate soda and took a drink. The two of us were actually getting along well, laughing and talking while we ate. Damien had drunk nearly all of his chocolate soda already, so I got up and refilled his glass. I figured that while he was willing to drink extra fluids now, it would just help all the more later and he seemed to enjoy the fact that I was letting him have all the chocolate soda he wanted. By the time we were done eating, he had consumed three full glasses including the first that contained the Kondremul.

When he offered to help me carry our dished to the kitchen, and then offered to wipe off the table for me I was suspicious, but let him help me. The two of us washed the dishes together, well actually I washed them, and he just stood beside me telling me all about the video game he was playing before. I had just put the last plate away when I heard a gurgle come from Damien’s stomach.

Damien laughed, “My tummy says it is full!”

“I would say so; I heard it all the way over here,” I said knowingly.

“You have room for some desert?” I asked.

His eyes lit up and he asked, “What?”

“If you want it now, I brought you a surprise for desert.” I said.

He started to bounce up and down on his tippy-toes, “YOU BROUGHT ME A SURPRISE! WHAT IS IT? WHAT IS IT?” He squealed so loud, I thought my ears might bleed.

While I had been getting the table ready for us to eat, I had retrieved the candy bar from my backpack and put it in the refrigerator to keep it from melting. I opened up the door, took it back out and handed it to him.

He was so excited and asked, “How did you know that Baby-Ruth is my favorite!”

“Well, I didn’t really. I guess I got lucky.” I answered with a shrug of my shoulders and a self-satisfied smirk.

For a heart stopping moment, I thought he was about to punch me or something, but he was just reaching out to hug me.

He started to walk back around to the table and I asked, “Where are you going?”

“To eat it,” he said pointing toward the dining room table.

“You don’t have to eat it at the table. You can take it into the living room and watch some TV if you want.” I said, and I think that surprised him.

“I can?” he said and ran toward the living room. “Yaaahooooo!” he said skidding to a stop and plopping down in front of the TV.

“Can we watch Simpson’s?” he asked.

“Uh, I don’t think they are on right now,” I said.

“No on the tape!” he said pointing to the VCR.

I realized that they must have some of the older episodes recorded, “Oh, do you know where it is?”

Damien had ripped open his candy bar and taken a bite of it. “Ith in ga cloffet.” He mumbled, pointing to the closet in the hall.

I opened the door and saw a surprising number of video tapes with movies, TV shows and several other titles hand written on the labels. Damien squeezed past me, grabbed one of the VCR tapes and raced back to the TV.

“Do you know how to do it?” I asked.

He turned and gave me a look as if to say, “How stupid do I look to you?”

He pushed in the tape and pressed the play button before plopping down on the floor again to finish his candy bar. Damien began to watch the Simpson’s while I sat on the couch and watched him. It was kind of nice watching the Simpson’s on video tape because all of the commercials had been edited out and about halfway through the first episode, I noticed that Damien was beginning to squirm a little.

Without commercials, the first episode only lasted about fifteen minutes and when it was over, Damien turned to me and whimpered, “My tummy don’t feel good.”

He leaned forward to try to stand up and that’s when it happened. I heard a sort of bubbling and then a loud juicy farting sound. Damien froze in place, half standing and half kneeling. I knew instantly that the first part of my plan had been a success. I didn’t do or say anything; I just watched to see what Damien would do.

For several seconds, he didn’t do anything, but then I saw his bottom lip quivering and his face turned a deep shade of pink.

I finally said something, “Sounds like you might have some gas.”

When he still didn’t move, I added, “Do you need to go potty?”

I saw tears begin to run down his face and knew for sure that I had him right where I wanted him.

“Little man?” I remembered how he’d responded when I had called him that yesterday and continued it to insure his continued trust, “Did you have an accident?”

I stood up, went over to him and could smell the foul contents of his pants. I hadn’t figured on the smell, it was bad, really bad and it made me feel as though I might start gagging. Using a trick my dad had taught me a long time ago, I pressed my tongue to the roof of my mouth as forcefully as I could and the noxious feelings seemed to ease a bit. I then knelt down before Damien and said, “It’s ok little man, come on, I’ll help you get cleaned up.”

When I reached out and touched him, he lost it and began to cry the way he had when he had hit his head. Secretly, I was reeling with excitement and pleasure at making this boy suffer for the way he was to me the past couple of days. Damien let go another loud juicy fart as I picked him up in my arms to carry him to the upstairs bathroom and I knew, more had escaped into his pants again then just gas.