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Tommy drank soda for lunch. It was a simple fact about him, one of the first he tends to tell people at work. His enjoyment of the beverage was no secret – quite the opposite actually. He named his dog after soda, he drinks it every day during the lunch break, and while it’s not a soda, his last name was also the name of a drink, just not a carbonated one. It was a very common sight to see him by the vending machine during his lunch break.
But there was far more to it than anyone knew — it was far deeper than any of his coworkers could even imagine.
Tommy drank soda for lunch. Tommy also drank soda for breakfast. Tommy drank soda for dinner. The only thing he really ate were Tic Tacs, and that was only as a just-in-case to make sure he didn’t die from malnutrition or something. Well, that and a workplace snack. It’s not that he needed to eat; he found out as a teenager that he wasn’t like other people in more ways than he thought, and being not-quite-human came with the added perk of not needing to eat. He still got hungry, and eating gave him a more lively look, but most food was gross to him anyway.
Sitting in the Chuck E. Cheese, he tries his best not to think about the texture of the pizza. The crust is being stained by the blood on his hands, so he tries his best not to eat that part, which is harder than you’d think. The only reason he hasn’t asked for a fork and knife yet is because he’s fairly certain one of them would make fun of him for it.
None of the others seem to care about the way the sauce stains their hands or the texture of the cheese and the chunkiness of the sauce or the way the food stuck to their teeth and slid down their throats thickly and sat in their insides. Tommy was starting to feel a little ill now.
His eyes darted around the room as he chewed on a bite of pizza. Would any of them care if he slunk away right now? He was the center of attention, after all; it was his birthday party they were at.
He knew Gordon wouldn’t care; the guy in question was sitting at the edge of the table, a faraway look in his eyes as he stared at nothing. Tommy wasn’t even sure he knew there was pizza in front of him, let alone a whole table.
His father wouldn’t care either, mainly because of how deadset he was on making Tommy happy at this party. His dad wouldn’t deny him anything right now, let alone bathroom access. That one would be easy.
Tommy’s eyes narrowed as he eyed Bubby and Dr. Coomer. Bubby would probably say he doesn’t care, but Dr. Coomer would either let him go without question while alerting everyone in the room that he was going to the bathroom, or question him about it. Tommy didn’t think that the second one was very plausible, but it was still possible, and that’s what scared him. He took a deep breath, and stood up.
“I’m gonna, uh,” Tommy told the table, “go the, to the bathroom.”
“Go ahead, Tommy,” his father said, a warm smile contrasting with his eerie features. Tommy noticed that the pizza on his own plate was untouched.
“Go ahead, Tommy!” Dr. Coomer spoke. “Have fun!”
“Yeah yeah, go have a piss,” Bubby said offhandedly, waving a hand in the air dismissively. Gordon stayed silent, and Tommy guessed that he didn’t hear him.
Tommy nodded at the group, and looked around for a bathroom. When he found it, he frowned at the gender distinction; isn’t this establishment technically for kids? What do children that young care for gendered bathrooms? He shook his head, but walked up to the boys’ room anyway. The sudden thought of someone going into a stall next to his flashed through his mind, and he turned to the family bathroom instead – the single-person bathroom that stood in the middle, which would be much more spacious than a stall.
Right as he placed his hand on the doorknob, he felt something brush against his hand and looked down. Sunkist placed her nose against his hand, and was looking up at him with pleading eyes. Guilt flashed through his eyes – she knew. Sparing a glance back at the group, he decided to put on the act regardless of whether all of them were looking or not.
“Oh, fine,” Tommy playfully rolled his eyes, patting the top of her head, “you can come too.”
Tommy glanced at the table once more, to make sure they heard him. He quickly ushered Sunkist into the bathroom, and slammed the door behind him after entering himself. He swallowed thickly, looking at the toilet. Dread and nausea filled him, and suddenly he was already on his knees.
Dragging himself across the floor, Tommy whimpered pitifully. He always felt so pathetic when he did this, and even having just his dog watch this happen made him feel self-conscious. Sunkist stared at him, and though she wasn’t barking, a little bit of Sweet Voice leaked out of her, showing her concern. Tommy frowned at her, eyebrows creasing.
He hauled himself over to the toilet and, leaning into it, hesitantly opened his mouth and closed his eyes. He forced two fingers as far back into his throat as he could get it, and gagged, whole body twitching. He yanked his hand out of his mouth just in time for him to retch. Vomit spilled out of his mouth, making him cough – a horrible, ugly sound that makes Sunkist whimper.
Tommy groans, feeling more coming up. His hands shakily grasp the sides of the (probably filthy) toilet, and he already feels sweat on his forehead as he throws up a second time.
He dares to look into the toilet, and sees the previous contents of his stomach; half-digested pizza and soda. The colors of the various drinks mixed into a dark slurry of bubbly brown, and the sight and smell makes him retch again. He curls up, sniffling as tears prick the corners of his eyes. Sunkist comes up to his side, worried. Sweet Voice comes out with each whimper, but his eyes are screwed too shut to process it.
He felt disgusting, but there was still some food in him, he could feel it. Falling over himself, he shakily brought his hand back to his mouth. Losing his earlier liveliness, he wasn’t able to move his hand away in time, and grimaced as vomit covered his hand. His other hand let go of the toilet to shake wildly. The feeling of the vile, chunky half-liquid dripping from his fingers sent his senses into a buzz, his cleaner hand being unable to stop from flapping as he began to hyperventilate.
Sunkist nudged him slightly, and tears spilled out of his eyes. He sunk his hand – the cleaner one that was unable to stop stimming – into her fur, and began mumbling to her between sobs.
“I’m so sorry,” he apologized, “you shouldn’t have to see me like this, Sunkist.” Tommy sobbed his apologies out through gritted teeth as he tried to stop crying enough to see his still-suspended sullied hand. After a bit more sniffling, he forced himself to stand on shaky legs.
Hobbling over to the sink, Tommy turned on the faucet to hot – cold water made him feel gross – and washed off his hand. His nose curled at the sight of chunks of pizza coming off of it, and used as much soap as he thought necessary. With his hand thoroughly cleaned, plus a cautionary extra rinse, he leaned over the sink and splashed water in his face. Eyes closed, he repeated this process until his face felt clean enough.
He reluctantly opened his mouth and washed his mouth out, removing the acidic taste from his mouth. He swished around a bit of water in his mouth, and spat it out in perfect timing with Sunkist barking. He spared a glance at her in the mirror, and frowned. She was worried. He grabbed a paper towel from the dispenser and scrubbed his face dry, spitting in the sink an extra time for good measure.
“Hey,” Tommy said, approaching Sunkist, “I’m okay, see?” Tommy offered her a weary smile, and she barked at him. He sighed, knowing this was a fruitless endeavor.
“I bet you think I’m pretty puh, pathetic right now, don’t you?” Tommy asked, seemingly to the wall above Sunkist. He stared at the spot with intensity, like if he stared long enough someone would reveal themself. Instead, he was knocked out of his thoughts by a banging on the door.
“Would you hurry it up in there?” Bubby’s muffled voice yelled from the other side of the door. “I have to piss and Dr. Coomer’s hogging the other bathroom!”
Tommy blinked away his surprise and tried not to think about that sentence too deeply.
“Oh, uh, just a second!” Tommy yelled out, and heard an indignant huff outside. Feeling frazzled, Tommy rushed over to the toilet, flushing it. He stared entranced at the sight of the slurry of goop swirling downwards, and Sunkist whined into his hand, which she’d nudged her snout into. He rubbed her head, a tired smile gracing his face. He glanced at the toilet once more, making sure nothing clogged or stuck. Satisfied, he walked away from it and placed his hand on the doorknob.
With a deep sigh, he unlocked the door and opened it. Bubby had been leaning on the door, and was knocked onto the floor accordingly.
“What the fuck, Tommy!?” Bubby yelled out from his ragdoll-like position on the floor. “Warn a guy first!”
“Sorry Profe- Dr. Bubby!” Tommy apologized. “I wasn’t, didn’t expecting, wasn’t expecting you to be so close to the door!”
“Hm,” Bubby huffed, standing up. “You’re spending too much time with Dr. Coomer.”
He brushed off his lab coat, seemingly ignoring the alien goo and blood in favor of any possible dust from the floor. Tommy stepped out of the way for Bubby to walk past. The door briefly shut, but quickly opened for Sunkist to run out.
“And take your dog with you!” Bubby yelled out after her. Tommy grinned a bit at the idea of Bubby shooing the giant dog out of the bathroom. Sunkist looked up at him, and a small whimper sounded from her. Tommy pet her as playfully as he could muster, showing her that he was okay.
All of that had worn him out, and he was running a bit low on energy – it’d been a bit since he’d been like this, since there really wasn’t much to eat during the last few days. Swallowing back a yawn, Tommy smacked his lips, and was repulsed by the flavor of vomit being ever so slightly present. He needed something to get the taste out of his mouth.
Tommy took another soda out from his coat, and drank. He subtly checked the large, circular clock above one of the doors; it was just about noon. Perfectly in time for lunch.