The Problem With Immortality Ch. 12

"You're liking that breast meat, aren't you, Mr. Connolly?" Jason grinned. Connolly nodded vigorously. "The tits are always the tastiest part. This one is much better than that last batch, the pear shaped breasts. These big round ones are so plump and juicy!" He looked at Jessica, and held up a forkful. "Try some!"

"No!" Jessica cried, grabbing her own breasts protectively.

"Come on, it's incredible," said Connolly. He put the fork in his mouth and groaned with pleasure. Then he looked at Jessica's breasts and smiled. "I'll bet yours would taste pretty good, babe."

"Anson, I need to get the fuck out of here RIGHT NOW," said Jessica. She stomped out.

"We need to think about it," said Anson politely. He started to follow her out.

"Wait," said Jason. "We're having charred labia tips for dessert!"

********

"Horrible, simply horrible," said Jessica. "I'm still shivering! The way those... cannibals, cook and eat girls!"

"Technically, they are not girls. They have no heads."

"They are pieces of girls. They treat them like meat," said Jessica.

"You mean, like the way people treat sex workers?" said Anson pointedly.

That only made Jessica angrier. "I wouldn't have had to use room service if you hadn't taken a fucking vow of celibacy. She's GONE, Anson. No amount of self-punishment is going to bring her back."

Anson turned away. He spent a moment trying to calm himself, to focus. "I think this is an idea we should bring to Odour."

Jessica waved a hand dismissively. "Go ahead."

A moment later they had established a holocomm to Francisco Odour.

"...eating people?" Odour asked.

"Not exactly people, Mr. Odour. Clones of body parts of people," said Anson carefully. He wondered how Odour would react to this.

"Hm... eating body parts of cloned people..." and then Odour gave Anson an expression he had never seen before.

He smiled.

"That might be a possibility. What does it taste like?"

Anson and Jessica looked at each other.

"Well?"

"We... uh...."

"Spit it out, man!"

"We never swallowed," said Jessica.

"We never tried it," said Anson.

"Why not?" Odour demanded.

Anson tried to think of an answer that would satisfy Odour, but couldn't.

"Cowards," Odour muttered. "You would think that I haven't paid you a hundred million credits for this."

"Sir-"

"Never mind. Perhaps I'll give it a try. Or perhaps I won't. But it still won't solve my problem. I'm looking for something to do, Mr. Ford. Munching on a redhead's ass, while possibly quite tasty, is not going to fill all my days and nights."

"Yes sir."

"I will tell you that I do like the fact that you're exploring unusual possibilities. Keep looking."

His image faded.

Jessica was already undressing. Anson tried to ignore her. When she was naked, she held up one of her large breasts. "Are you sure there isn't something here you'd like to snack on?"

Anson went into the bathroom and slammed the door.

"That's right, Anson!" Jessica yelled after him. "Go in there and rub your dick like it's a magic lamp. If you rub hard enough, Jennifer just might appear in front of you and grant you your fondest wish!"

********

"Odour is never going to be interested in this," said Jessica.

"He did tell us to try unusual ideas," said Anson.

"But really, eating shit?" Jessica asked.

"It is not shit, Ms. Dhomes," said Marci Beinstock sternly.

Marci Beinstock was a devout follower of the She-Goddess Aura. One of the most foremost principles of the Goddess was that followers should practice Nurda Gababba, literally to "heal the earth". Like many followers of the Goddess, Marci viewed humanity as a plague, as an infestation, like termites, which slowly but surely was destroying the Earth.

Marci was particularly upset every time she went to the bathroom. For most people, they did their business and gave no further thought to it.

But Marci thought about it a lot. As she squeezed the shit out of her ass, she thought not just about her shit, being dumped into the environment, but the shit being squeezed out of the assholes of every other person of the planet. There must be millions of pounds of it, despoiling the environment every day. It was a wonder that they were not all up to their necks in shit.

Marci became consumed with thoughts of rivers of shit drowning the planet. That drove her career and her destiny. She spent years studying biofarming, and, after earning a Ph.D., spent years after that working on a special project.

To eliminate shit from the planet.

Shit, or excrement, results from the body processing food and injecting it with waste products from different bodily organs. The result is toxic, brown, smelly, and not fit for human consumption.

Marci so desperately wanted to change that. She spent years working on activating pastes which could line the walls the intestines and neutralize the bodily poisons which were excreted into the waste. It took her twenty years to figure out how to do that.

Then she spent time working on how to biofarm those wastes, how to use basic chemical processes on the cellular level to transmute those toxic chemicals into something more palatable.

Forty years later, she was successful.

"It is not shit as you know it," said Marci. "It is apples, cucumbers, cookies, cake, hamburgers-"

"You can make fully cooked hamburgers come out of a person's ass?" said Anson, clearly impressed.

Marci shrugged. "It's biofarming. Once we learned how to manipulate molecules and chemical compounds, we can turn anything into anything. And in this case we turn human bodily waste into any kind of food we want. Anything."

"Anything?"

"Anything. Celery, carrots, bread sticks, noodles, sausage, meatloaf, pudding, anything."

"But... they come out of peoples' asses," said Jessica. "It's dirty!"

"Not after their intestines have been biofarmed for a few days," said Marci.

"I'm not sure I'd like to be a diner during the transition period," said Anson.

Marci gave him a sharp glance. Then she gestured to a tray on her desk. "Would you like a breadstick, Mr. Ford?"

Anson didn't know how to answer that.

Marci picked one up with her hand, and saw Anson and Jessica watched her in horror as she started to chew on it. "Crunchy," said Marci, smiling. "And quite tasty." She wiped some crumbs off her lips.

"And that came out of... of..."

"My asshole, yes," said Marci. She held out a breadstick. "Are you sure you wouldn't like to try one?"

Anson and Jessica shook their heads.

"I was hoping that your client might be attracted to our concept because of the ecological implications," said Marci, still munching on the breadstick. It was hard and a little brittle; she had squeezed it out of her anal cavity last night, and it wasn't as fresh as it could have been.

"Ecological implications?"

"There are 40 billion human beings on the planet, Mr. Ford. We collectively produce trillions of tons of excrement every year. We're drowning in it."

"I don't notice anyone drowning in it. Do you, Jessica?"

Jessica shook her head.

"Trust me, Mr. Ford, it's happening," said Marci. "The planet is slowly being destroyed. The only way to save it is to recycle."

"To recycle... our excrement?"

"A totally closed cycle," said Marci, smiling broadly. "Food goes in the mouth. A lesser amount of food comes out of the anus. That food, with some supplements, goes into the mouth again. It's a nearly closed cycle. There is no more waste."

"That does sound rather... progressive," said Anson, trying to find a positive way of putting it.

"It is," said Marci excitedly. "It will save the planet! Look... would you like to come our tasting room? Come, and see for yourself what we've accomplished."

Anson looked at Jessica, who shrugged. "Sure," he said.

********

Marci's explanation hadn't quite prepared them for the tasting room. It was a room full of fat people.

Naked fat people. They were all eating continually, and, as it appeared, they were also shitting. They were sitting on what looked like toilets, except the toilets were totally transparent, so you could see what was going into them. The toilets seemed to operate not on a water based system but a pneumatic one, moving excreted substances by air pressure. There was a long transparent tube that carried substances from the toilet up to a plate by each diner's right arm.

Anson and Jessica watched with horrible fascination as a large man grunted, and grunted, bearing down. He closed his eyes and squeezed tightly. Slowly, something seem to come out of his buttocks. It looked like sausage links. First one came out, then two, three, four, and then five. When the last one came out, the man cried, "Ahhhh," and smiled. The pneumatic tube connected to the toilet carried the sausages to his plate. Instantly, he grabbed the plate, and started chowing down.

"As you can see, a truly closed cycle," said Marci proudly.

"I think I'm going to be sick," Jessica whispered.

"These people... they're all naked, and... going to the bathroom in front of one another."

"One of my proudest achievements. We have taken the taboo out of going to the bathroom," said Marci. "Think about it, Mr. Ford. Going to the bathroom used to be a dirty, disgusting thing. But now it's no more disgusting than producing a meal."

Anson watched as a smiling woman, legs spread, "Aaahed" with happiness as a fully formed cucumber slowly started to come out of her asshole. On another toilet, he saw a man squeezing out chocolate chip cookies. But in a third, he saw a man squeezing out what looked like shit! And when the pneumatic tube took the shit to his plate, the man actually said, "Yum yum!" and started to chow down on it.

Anson pointed at it in horror.

Marci went over to the man, stuck a finger in his food, and put it to her mouth. "Umm, meatloaf. Would you like some, Mr. Ford?"

Anson, watched the happy diner with brown food stains around his lips, and shook his head. He looked around and saw that urination was handled differently. People urinated into separate tubes, which carried the liquid into their drinking cups. He saw one man emit a sigh of relief as a steady stream of yellow fluid flowed out of his penis. It was quickly transferred to his drinking cup. When he was done, and he had shaken his penis dry, he lifted his cup and started drinking.

Marci noticed his stare. She went to the man and said, "May I?" and he nodded.

She put the cup to her lips and drank deeply. When she put it down she said, "Sparkling apple juice, Mr. Ford."

Marci ignored his shocked expression and pointed out a series of vats. "These are our pastes. We have pastes for every kind of food. If you want to excrete shrimp, you eat paste from that vat. If you want to excrete carrots, you eat from the second vat. And so on. These pastes biofarm the human waste inside the intestines, turning bodily poisons into very delicious entrees."

Anson looked at the diners. They all were obese, and all seemed to be eating and shitting almost constantly. At any given moment, a diner was either eating, or shitting, or both.

Marci was right. It was a closed cycle.

"How much does this... experience cost?" Anson asked.

"That's the best part! It's a bargain!" said Marci. "To get your very own, anally cooked meal costs only 5,000 credits a meal."

"5,000 credits a meal!" Anson cried.

"For the most ecologically minded meal that will help save the planet? 5,000 credits is a pittance for that kind of reward, Mr. Ford." said Marci.

Anson watched a couple who were eating and shitting like the rest. The wife seemed much more enthusiastic than her husband, gobbling away at chocolate pudding which had just come out of her ass, and drinking fine wine which had just come out of her bladder inside her vaginal folds.

The husband seemed less happy, making a face as he ate chocolate cake. "I don't know," said the husband. "It still tastes like shit to me," he said.

"It's all in your mind," said his wife, slurping her chocolate pudding. "You've been on the plan for three days now. All the literature says that the shit taste disappears after the second day."

"I tell you, it still tastes like shit," said the man.

The wife sighed, reached over, and nibbled on some of the chocolate cake which had come out of her husband's ass. She made a face as she chewed on it.

"Well?" said the husband.

"Yeah, it still has kind of a shitty taste. Keep eating. You'll get used to it," said the wife.

Anson looked at Jessica, who was silently mouthing the words, "Can we get the fuck out of here now?"

Anson nodded.