JEROME VOMIT FETISH
Jerome enters Matt's office, his face pale and looking like he's about to vomit any second.
"Matt, sorry to interrupt, but where's the bathroom?" Jerome asks, as he takes a mental note of who all is in the room.
Matt points to the door on his right. "It's right over there, Jerome. You okay?"
"I don't know, man," Jerome says, taking a step back. "I think I'm gonna hurl."
"Go ahead, Jerome. If you need to puke, just do it in front of us. We won't judge," Matt says reassuringly, but Isra looks at him with disgust.
Knowing he has support in Matt, Jerome comes up with a plan and swiftly leaves the boardroom.
"What the hell, Matt? That's disgusting," Isra says, wrinkling her nose.
"What? I'm just being supportive," Matt says defensively. "Jerome's a good guy, and he's always been there for us."
Isra rolls her eyes. "This is getting ridiculous. First sensory nests, now vomit. What's next, free seeing eye dogs for anyone who wants one? Get real.”
"Hey, sensory nests are not ridiculous," Matt says, getting defensive again. "They serve a purpose, and they're important for people with certain conditions."
Just then, Jerome bursts back into the room, looking even more distressed than before.
“I can’t make it to the bathroom," he says, his face pale. "I’m about to blow."
Joey, Matt, Isra, and Evelyn all watched as Jerome made his way to a nearby trash can, breathing heavily as he did so.
He hunched over the bin, his body wracked with dry heaves.
"Go on, Jerome," Joey said, "Let it all out."
Matt nodded in agreement. "We don't judge here. If this is what you need to do, we're here for you."
Isra looked uncomfortable, but she nodded her head as well. "Yeah, man. Do your thing."
Evelyn remained silent, her eyes locked on Jerome. A fury burning within her. She had always known that there was something different about him, something that set him apart from the others. Looking at him now, she saw a gleam in his eyes. Could it be that he was getting pleasure from having a crowd watch him get sick? She knew he was different, but she never suspected that he could be aroused by his own vomit.
Just then, Jerome became violently ill and started to throw up in front of everybody. His vomit covered his clothes and it splashed across Matt’s desk. Matt and Joey gave supportive smiles, while Isra and Evelyn recoiled in disgust.
Jerome couldn’t be happier.
He took a deep breath and straightened up, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, trying to conceal his grin.
"Thanks, guys," he said, "That really helped. I’ll never forget this night. Trust me.”
Joey patted him on the back. "Anytime, buddy."
Matt turned his attention back to the blueprints in front of him. "So, let's get back to business, shall we? I believe Isra was comparing sensory nests to concentration camps?”
Isra nodded, but Evelyn spoke up. "Wait a minute. What just happened here? We can't just ignore what we just saw."
Joey looked at her, puzzled. "What do you mean?"
"I mean, we just watched Jerome happily vomit into a trash can, and we're acting like it's no big deal. Why was he so eager to get sick in front of an audience?”
Matt shrugged. "It's not a big deal. It's just Jerome being Jerome."
Evelyn shook her head.
Isra rolled her eyes.
Jerome looks mortified at the suggestion and his face turns a deep shade of red.
He stumbles backwards, tripping over a chair and knocking over a stack of Anti Nest propaganda as he does so.
“No, no, no!” he stammers, “That’s not true at all! I’m not some kind of pervert! I just fantasize about vomiting on people. Surely they would feel badly for me, as I’m the one who is sick. They’d probably insist on cleaning themselves up, even though that takes away from my fantasy. If you consider that to be a fetish of some sort, knock yourself out. I’ll be over here with the rest of the evolved portion of mankind.”
Evelyn is unconvinced, and her eyes narrow as she glares at him. “Oh really?” she retorts, “Then why did you seem to get aroused when you got sick?”
Joey steps forward, trying to diffuse the situation.
“Come on guys,” he says, “Let’s not make a big deal out of this.”
But it’s too late. Evelyn is already on a roll.
“I knew there was something weird about you,” she hisses at Jerome.
“You always act like you’re better than everyone else, but really you’re just a freak!”
Jerome’s face contorts in anger.
“How dare you!” he yells back, “You think you’re so perfect, but you’re just a shallow, judgmental bitch!”
The room falls silent as everyone turns to look at Jerome in shock.
Even Isra, who has been quiet up until this point, seems taken aback.
Evelyn is seething with rage and begins to make stimming noises, a desperate attempt to collect herself. After all, she is still intent on fighting with Isra for her right to have her sensory nests. She needs to be sharp.
“I can’t believe you just said that,” she snaps, “You know what? You’re right. I am shallow. I’m shallow because I care about things like the beauty of nature and the artistry of nest building. But you know what’s really shallow? And, quite frankly, extremely disturbing? Getting off on vomit!”
Jerome looks like he’s about to explode.
“You don’t know anything about me,” he spits, “You don’t know what it’s like to be me.”
He anxiously licks the corners of his mouth, hoping there is at least some residual vomit for him to ingest. That residual vomit would not be found. He had wiped his face too well. “Damn,” he thought to himself.
He began to spiral at the prospect of not having any vomit on hand.
Evelyn notices what Jerome is doing, and what he is looking for. Her voice rises to a fever pitch. “Thank God for that! I don’t want to know what it’s like to be you!” she screams, “You’re disgusting!”
