The Anti-Masker

Chapter 2
A Lion

Chapter Description: Jim is headed to work trying to make sense of his last night ghostly appearance

“Christ Jim, you look awful, did you even sleep?” My coworker Chris exclaimed as he saw me

“I’m fine, probably some stomach flu” I answered meekly, I was tired, and the thought of talking to customers depressed me

“Oh say no more, I had the same thing two months ago. I swear, if their tacos weren’t amazing, I would have reported Senior Tajini to the FDA a long time ago.

Now get yourself together, and help the geezer at the back choose the best shovel for his dumb flowers”

Chris became a bit of a prick since he got promoted to manager at the hardware store, good thing we are friends, that sure lessened the prickiness toward me. Sometimes I felt bad that Chris got promoted instead of me, at least I’m taller than him.

The rest of the shift had been fine, mostly kind customers. After a couple Manstar energy drinks, it was like I slept completely normal.

When it was only 3 hours till the end of the shift, Chris took me the back and whispered

“Listen bro, my side chick can only meet me now, could you hold alone for 2 hours and if anyone asks I’m here, busy with paperwork, ok?”

“No problem bro, who, who is she? Kaileigh again?”

“No the other one, Kylie with the ‘y’. Thank you so much bro! I owe you one!” and he ran from there like a ghost was chasing him.

Yeah I can handle everything by myself, plus it was pretty dead hour, barely any people in.

Except two tiny little details: One was the 2 Manstar drinks and the second was the lunch I ate several hours earlier. My stomach started to gargle, but I could hold it in no problem, I have the will of an ALPHA!

“1%. Every. Minute. BWAH! ha! Ha! HA!” a cold whisper breezed through my ears.

“It’s not real,” I kept convincing myself,

“and even if it was real, 1% is a tiny tiny chance, it's what, like the chance of getting hit by lightning, it won’t happen. Not that any of this is real anyways”

“Oh yes dear, yes, I see. You are really brave. That's why you choose to wear boxers today, huh? Not really wise though, if you will poop your pants”

“I don’t need to take this into consideration  - because it won’t happen! boxers or not I’m not gonna -” then I realized I’m speaking to the air, and look utterly insane, I kept the act like I’m speaking to a bluetooth speaker, but kept thinking to myself

“I’m not gonna poo…shit myself, it’s just my brain a bit hazy. I was dumb to wear boxers though, only if it's 1%, what if I will…”

I was on edge, trying to concentrate hard on keeping it in, it was excruciating. Truly pure pain. It worked, though. 

I saw Chris coming through the door, and I felt relieved, I can finally go to the bathroom. I signaled him I’m going to the back, pacing there quickly. 

Only 3 inches to the door and a fart broke, my legs paralyzed

“What the hell!?”

“One Percent! HAHA”

I couldn’t move any muscle no matter what I did. I was completely helpless as I felt the brown slime creeping through my crack into my boxers and down into my jeans. I tried to move myself, stop, pause, anything! No use… I completely filled my pants with warm shit

“Come on! please, just let me finish in the bathroom, I’m so close”

Nope! The entire thing slipped through onto my legs and clothes.

“Hi Jim, you’re still - whoa that's a hell of a stomach flu. What the fuck!? Dude, are… you ok?” Chris sounded dumbfounded

“yeah.. yeah hmm it’s just…” I tried to find words while the stupid old crone laughed in my ears

“Say no more dude, I’ll get you some work overalls and some underwear, just.. trash everything that.. just, trash everything. I’ll also bring a mop

Listen bro, I had the same thing happen to me once after some really cursed tacos, don’t worry”

I just wanted to disappear. I really wish I hadn’t worn a boxer today.

I just stood there, my eyes were welling up. I couldn’t believe Chris found me like this, couldn’t believe this is really happening, the fucking ghost.  

The drive home I sat silently in my thoughts, I felt unclean and uneasy. From nowhere, I heart it again

“So? 1% is a big deal after all? Are you not gonna go to a pharmacy and get some diapers? You wouldn’t want to have a smelly accident in your pants again, would you?”

“You're not real. Just like the stupid virus, you’re fake and annoying”

“Can a fake do this?” she whispered whimsically and manifested in the seat beside me. The blue, tiny, old woman sat on the other front seat of my truck.

 “Ok, fine. You are real? So what? It’s not a real chance! you tempered with it! You make me poo-shit myself whenever you want anyway”

“No no no. I can’t do that. 1% chance every minute, signed contract between a lovely charming elder lady and a young brute”

“1% chance is extremely rare! It can barely happen! So how come it happened just as I went to the bathroom??”

“HaHa! *cough* Ha! I was just lucky. On a completely unrelated note: Some bird whispered to me, that you usually evacuate in the mornings. Which means, you probably need to go while you’re asleep. So imagine 1% chance but every minute of your sleep time! You’ll be a glorious bed pooper!”

“NO! I WON’T! It's still a 1% chance!” I yelled at her, the little fucker just won’t understand odds.

“Well, yeah deary, but every minute. 8 hours is 480 minutes, you’ll be guaranteed to mess yourself in your sleep *cough* HAHAHA” that weak and chalky laugh of hers was horrifying.

I started to get nervous, I stopped the car in a small parking lot and made a phone call

“Hi, Jane it’s..”

“Yes Jim, I know your number. I’m busy, what the hell do you want from me?”

“I have a small question about odds. Like, if I do something, and it has a 1% chance of happening, and I’m doing it like a buncha times, say 480 times, and there’s like a chance for it to miss or to not apply or anything? Even though it's only 1%?”

“Oh jeez, let me try and paraphrase it in a non caveman style, and tell me if I got it right. Ok?

So you run an experiment that has a 1% chance to succe-”

“To fail. It has a 1% chance to fail”

“Sure, whatever” She sounded pissed, “1% chance to fail, and you run this experiment 480 times, and you ask what is the probability that it will fail at least once, during all these experiments?”

“Yeah…”

“Let me get my calculator… The odds are 99.1% for a failure. So you almost guaranteed a fail with this amount of experiments”

“WHAT???? But it's only 1…”

“Yes, I get it, but that's how probability works. Even an event with a very miniscule chance will happen eventually, as long as you try enough times.

Now, even though the all ‘Ogre learns math’ narrative of yours is charming to me, I need to go

1. I have deadlines

2. You were a real dick to me last time we spoke

I really hoped you were calling for an apology, not for math…

Goodbye Jim”

I couldn’t handle her snowflake reactions right now, I had a real problem on my hand. I drove the car in the opposite direction, to the pharmacy.