“Another day in the trenches, wouldn’t you say?”

The small and large intestines were known to each other simply as Largo and Smalls; only named in reverse like it was some incredibly ingenious way to confuse the stomach when she came to dump her refuse, despite only having a route to Largo’s orifice.

Largo grumbled an answer that Smalls couldn’t quite hear in the midst of Largo’s digesting of this morning’s breakfast.

“I don’t even wanna hear it, Largo.” Smalls yells over the grind, agitated. “Always grumbling, you try having the shitty end of the stick…” he mutters to himself, somewhat bemused at his own pun until realizing that his job does in fact entail a whole lot of shit and his half-smile fades as quickly as the realization hits.

But Smalls’ comment certainly struck a chord with Largo. This morning’s menu?

Breakfast Burritos. God awful, freshly microwaved, smothered in hot sauce, overstuffed with the “magical fruit,” breakfast burritos.

Smalls gave a small nudge to Largo, as if to say, I agree, this is torture and said, “don’t worry - I’ll send another message up the wire. The next time this genius thinks of breakfast burritos, they’ll think of us first.”

With that the two of them set to work.

Double time, as fast as possible: clear this sludge, send a message, clear this sludge, send a message, clear this sludge, send a message.

“You sure you got enough electrolytes for this,” asked Largo, feigning concern.

“We’ll make do,” answered Smalls, focusing solely on expelling this flaming catastrophe.

And on they worked, through the early morning, what seemed like endless toiling under blistering conditions that even the strongest antacid couldn’t touch. They just had to add extra hot sauce.

There is a special place in Hell for the brain that thought up hot sauce, Largo thought to himself.

“It’s about time. I gotta deliver the news to ol’ Rex,” Smalls said. Rex was the endearing nickname the two had decided upon unanimously for the rectum. They agreed it was genius, as for what ‘Rex’ thought, the jury was still out.

“You know he’s gonna be pissed about the hot sauce again. You and I both remember the way he blew his cap, Christmas of ‘09…” Largo replied while they both shuddered in remembrance making the stomach growl and groan in annoyance at their shenanigans.

“I got an idea,” Largo continued. “What if we don’t say anything, just push it through, as fast as possible, buried in the middle of some otherwise harmless excrement, and pretend we didn’t even notice the hazardous material mixed in…”

“You and I both know that’s against regulation. You just said yourself ‘remember the Christmas of ‘09’. How do you think Rex is gonna react when he notices the burning? That’s exactly how the shitstorm started that Christmas,” Smalls argued.

“Well, I don’t know what to tell you. He’s gonna be pissed either way,” Largo huffed in defeat.

“Fine. We do it your way. But I’m gonna need you to chip in a little extra chyme this time around.”

Smalls was no stranger to delivering bad news to Rex, but damn did he hate it. If Smalls’ job was shitty, he couldn’t even begin to understand what Rex went through on a daily basis.

Despite himself and the short-lived empathy he felt for Rex, he too wanted to get this burning pile of shit off his plate. And so, selfishly he began burying their little secret in an effort to conceal what would otherwise be a fireball of tortilla and bean.

When the time came, Largo gave a salute and Smalls was on his way to deliver their latest concoction of Hell fire wrapped in a too-thin layer of whatever scraps they could find leftover in their crevices.

“Hey! Rexy ol’ pal, ol’ friend!” Smalls said in a singsong voice, approaching Rex.

Oh brother, Rex thought to himself, rolling his eyes. If the two idiots residing to the North of him didn’t deign to pronounce his full name, that was fine but he certainly wasn’t going to pretend to be happy to see them every time Smalls showed up unannounced.

“Smalls, it’s only 11 am. You missed the morning delivery and you’re too early for the afternoon delivery. I’m not risking another backup,” Rex said irritated.

“Now Rex, you and I both know that Largo and I are just doing our jobs like everyone else. If we get backed up and you can’t do your job, we’re gonna have some major problems in here.”

Rex remained unconvinced.

“It’s only 1 meals worth, we figured it wouldn’t hurt to have it ready early for the afternoon delivery,” reasoned Smalls.

Rex stared at Smalls skeptically. Since when do those two idiots do their jobs so swiftly? He glanced over at the seemingly innocent delivery. It appeared normal, albeit a little smaller than the usual deliveries but otherwise, the same as any other.

“Ugh. Fine, whatever - leave it there for the afternoon delivery. It shouldn’t be too much to add on,” Rex said begrudgingly.

“You’re a gem, a real swell guy…” Smalls exhaled, relieved. He’s gonna be real ‘swelled’ after this delivery, Smalls chuckled to himself as he quickly deposited the delivery and made a hasty exit.

Rex began the usual intake process; just what he needed, more paperwork. He wished he could put it aside and procrastinate like he did last week but he knew if there were any more issues with constipation this week, he would never hear the end of it from the guys again.

He finished up the last intake form and moved slowly toward the fresh concoction. God, why couldn’t he die and come back as a lung or something. He would take being the lung of a smoker over dealing with this shit, any day.

But alas, resigned to his fate, he began moving the delivery toward the exit ramp. As he began pushing it toward the ramp, though, he immediately noticed the delivery was warmer than usual. After a few more pushes down the hall, some of the outer layer of excrement began to erode away and with it, Largo and Smalls’ secret began to slowly reveal itself.

“THESE DAMN IDIOTS. I’VE TOLD THEM TIME AND AGAIN, I CAN’T HANDLE THIS SHIT WITHOUT TAKING ON SOME DAMAGE MYSELF!! OUCH!! DAMN IT!! FREAKING HELL!” Rex began shouting incessantly.

“Not today, not ever. I’m not doing this shit again!” In an effort to save his hallways from being burned to a crisp, Rex made a mad dash at the inferno, heaving it toward the exit ramp with all his might.

———

The brain, resting high above her kingdom, had already heard the intestinal brothers’ mutterings and had some idea that something dire was building in the nether regions of the body she reigned over. However, she had not quite prepared her faculties for the utterly devastating catastrophe that was imminent.

As a result, the message she passed to the muscles, was already late on delivery and the quads, calves, glutes, and all of their cousins sprang from their sleep to make a mad dash toward relief. The sirens were blaring through her chambers, screeching and screaming of impending shame. Just as she was sure of imminent doom and preparing for the cleanup work she’d have to undertake for the skin’s sake, she was notified; ready for launch - it’s now or never.

———

And with that Rex excavated every single thing he could find that the fire had touched. He pushed and pushed, he scrubbed his walls and floors clean, he removed every last bit of debris. It was like magma flowing from a long dormant volcano, on and on it flowed.

And all he could think to himself now was, I’d rather work through another bout of constipation…