The High School Reunion
Frank never thought heâd be the kind of guy who would look forward to his high school reunion, but the past decade had been great to Frank. He had become the kind of successful, fit, and stylish man that anyone would be thrilled to be, a far cry from his days at Albany High School. As his rideshare coasted along from the hotel, he winced as he remembered what his life had been like back then.Â
A scrawny and gangly teen, Frank had never had many friends. Virtually devoid of style, Frank had gone to school every day in a tie and pocket protector. He didnât really know any better and since he was raised by his grandfather, an old school engineer, it just seemed like the normal way for men to dress. His classmates didnât agree, and would rag on his style daily. Since leaving high school however, Frank had been hitting the gym hard to gain a physique that all the men down at the local gay bar drooled over. And he had studied up on fashion and style, curating a wardrobe that regularly got him compliments on the street.Â
His dweeby style and scrawny figure were just the tip of the iceberg for Frankâs time at Albany High. Frank suffered the double whammy of extremely bad vision and crooked teeth. Every yearbook photo was worse than the last as the glasses got thicker and his braces stayed clunky. By senior year, his orthodontist had recommended headgear for the final year of treatment and Frankâs final yearbook photo was a true horror: a tangle of metal and straps with his pleading eyes behind two fishbowl lenses that made him look pathetic. Of course now, Frank had a perfect smile and after lasik, deep beautiful green eyes that you just wanted to fall into.Â
The worst of it had been his nickname in high school: Farting Francis. Frank now knew all about celiac disease, lactose intolerance and irritable bowel syndrome, but back in high school, he was plagued with flatulence so severe, it ruined what little chance of a social life he had. He couldnât make it through a single class without ripping a fart so loud that the entire class would burst into laughter. Of course now he knew about his conditions and how to eat right (an added bonus of his newfound emphasis on healthy living) but the memories of four long years of being called Farting Francis stayed with him.
Frank gazed at his reflection in the car window as the rideshare coasted along the road. He really had come so far in so many ways. He knew his old classmates would hardly recognize him and would be shocked to see how much of a man he had become. The week before the reunion, Frank had looked up Blake Denvers, his old high school bully. Blake had made his life hell, coining the term âFarting Francisâ and ensuring that Frank spent most afternoons dangling by his undies on the fence outside the school for everyone to laugh at on their way home. After some cybersleuthing, it seemed like Blake had mellowed way out. He was married now, with kids, and had a modest job at an insurance company. Still, Frank was excited to show Blake how much he had changed. Hell, Frank was sure he was way cooler than Blake now, a fact that brought him no small satisfaction.Â
âHeading to the high school reunion?â the driver piped up, scaring Frank.Â
âI am,â Frank said, trying to not appear too interested in conversation. He hated it when these rideshare drivers tried to make small talk.
âLots of folks headed that way tonight,â the driver said. âIâve already taken a few.â
âSounds like youâve got a long night ahead of you,â Frank said.
âOh not really,â said the driver. âYouâre my last ride of the night actually. Iâll be attending the reunion as well.â
âBut why would youâŠâ Frank began before trailing off.Â
âItâs ok, nobody else remembered me either,â said the driver. âBut Iâm surprised you didnât, Francis.â
âHey buddy, itâs Frankâ
âWell it wasnât when we were in school together.â The driver looked back at the rear view mirror, catching Frankâs gaze. There was something familiar about the driver, his voice, and the thick glasses peering back at Frank.Â
âAlbert?â Frank asked.Â
âOh so now you remember me, Francis,â he said. As he uttered the word âFrancis,â Frank felt a sharp pain in between his eyes, as if the memory of being called that was too much to bear.Â
Albert had been Frankâs only friend in high school, the only person who could tolerate the social pariah that Frank was, if only because he was equally pathetic by the schoolâs standards. Albert was a true four-eyed dweeb: obsessed with Dungeons and Dragons and truly devoid of any fashion sense. Frank and Albert would eat lunch together every day as they endured the mocking stares of the other students. It didnât bother Albert as much; he said life was better as a nerd anyways. But now Frank was cool and hot and Albert was a four-eyed dweeb driving people around for a living so Frank wasnât so sure that nerd life was really that much better.Â
The two of them had drifted apart after graduation. Frank embarked on his quest for self improvement while Albert just stayed mired in his extreme nerdiness, going beyond his love of D&D into larping and engrossing himself in a more intense world of fantasy and magic. As Frank got cooler, Albert just served as a reminder of the nerd he used to be⊠the kind of man who repulsed him now. Within a year, the two had fallen out of contact.Â
âIâm not surprised,â Albert said as he took a right turn. âI mean you havenât contacted me in years, even though I was your only friend in high school.â
âAlbert Iâm really sorry,â Frank said. âI just⊠you know, people drift apart.â
âYeah especially when one of them decides he needs to change to be happy,â Albert snorted. âI get it. Youâre cool now. Hot. One of the in crowd. And Iâm just a reminder of your dorky past. Well, you know, it wasnât easy being your friend, Francis.â The splitting pain hit Frank right between the eyes again. âYou think it was fun hanging out with the guy known for farting all the time? I put up with a lot!â
âI know you did, Albert,â Frank started. âI mean it, Iâm really sorry.â
âSure you are. You know, while you were off changing yourself to be cool, I stayed here. I got into larping and magic and the occult, and I changed, too. I learned some things. Including something Iâve been eager to show you. High school reunions are so good for reconnecting, and Iâm so excited to reconnect with my old friend Francis.âÂ
The pain shot through Frankâs head once again, more severe than before.
âYou know thereâs a lot of power in a name, old friend. Mystical power. And I know how to channel it now. So itâs time for me to use that power to bring back the guy we all knew from high school, Francis.â
The pain in Frankâs head shifted downward into his guts. They churned and roiled with agony. Oh god, this canât be happening, Frank thought. But suddenly and without any control, he ripped a loud fart in the back of the car.Â
âIâm so sorry,â Frank said, blushing.Â
âOh itâs too late to be sorry,â said Albert. âThough Iâm sure you will feel that way regardless, Francis.â
Frank hunched in pain and let out another loud fart. This wasnât right. He had been so strict and careful with his diet. But as he ripped the fart, his memories seemed to divide. On the one hand there was the Frank who had learned to manage his conditions and limit his flatulence. But another memory appeared of Francis, the farting dweeb who never figured it out. And that memory was becoming stronger.Â
âThere he is,â smirked Albert, âMy old friend Farting Francis.â
Frank let loose a giant PHBBBBBBBT! as the stench of his gas filled the car. As he did, he felt his body begin to shift. Were his clothes hanging looser? He glanced down in horror as he watched his meaty pecs deflate and shrink into his chest. The biceps he had worked so hard for were suddenly the thin twigs he had had a decade before. Frank farted again and his powerful thighs shriveled as well. Frank couldnât believe it. All that hard work⊠gone! He was just as scrawny has he had been when he graduated.Â
âAlbert please,â Frank pleaded. âYou have to stop this.â
âThatâs not possible,â Albert laughed. âAfter all, I have to ensure youâre dressed properly for the reunion, Francis.â
Frank couldnât hold it in any more and another huge fart ripped forth. As it did, he noticed his now-loose jeans start to tighten. The fabric changed from denim to a polyester yellow plaid as the waist of the pants rose up his body and stopped at his ribs. But Frank knew he was going to fart again.Â
PHBBBBBBBT!
His cashmere sweater turned pale blue as the soft fabric turned into extremely stiff, starched broadcloth. Buttons and a collar appeared. Soon the entire sweater had turned into a short sleeve button down shirt, just like he used to wear in high school.
âYouâre starting to look like yourself, pal. And I promise with each fart, it will become even more familiar, Francis.â
PHBBBBBBT!
Frank farted, and a geeky yellow bow tie appeared around his neck.Â
PHBBBBBT!
Frank farted, and a bulging overloaded white vinyl pocket protector appeared in his shirt pocket.
PHBBBBBBT!
Frank farted, and bright red suspenders hooked onto the pants and pulled them up even higher on his now scrawny frame.
PHBBBBBBT!
Frank farted, and shiny black orthopedic shoes appeared on his feet with thick white socks.Â
He couldnât believe it. He was dressed just like the loser he used to be in high school. Mostly, at least.
âWow buddy, youâre looking like your old self,â said Albert. âWell⊠almost, Francis.â
Frankâs guts churned as he ripped truly one of the worst farts he could remember. The smell was thick and horrible but the worst part was what changed about him afterwards. He felt a tightness on his teeth as the familiar sensation of metal wove itself throughout his mouth. It spread outward as headgear appeared on his now extremely greasy hair and attached to the braces. He couldnât believe it. After all these years, he was stuck in braces again. He glanced at his reflection, remembering the smile he had charmed all those boys with at the gay bar. Now, he just saw orthodontic metal attached to crooked teeth smiling back.Â
âYouâre almost there, pal. I promise weâre getting close to the school and your triumphant return, Francis.â
Frank knew what to expect at this point but it didnât make it easier. As he ripped a gigantic fart, he felt a heavy pressure on his ears and nose. He knew what it was but he didnât want to look. Regardless, he glanced at his reflection and saw his old clunky black glasses with the giant fishbowl lenses. Except these were worse, they were thicker. After all, this Frank had never had lasik. Ten extra years of extreme farsightedness made the lenses huger than Frank had thought possible. It was clear these glasses were tough to replace, too, as they were held together in a few places with white masking tape. The prescription made his eyes even bigger than theyâd ever looked, which magnified the tears he was fighting back.
âPleashe,â he begged, nasally lisping through his headgear. âPleashe Albert, Iâm not shupposhed to be like thish anymore. I have a new life now!â
âI know you think you do,â Albert said with a grin. âSo let me really drive things home for you, Francis Francis FRANCIS!!!!â
The pressure inside Frankâs guts increased and he begin farting nonstop. He farted, and his memories of working out in college evaporated, replaced with playing D&D with the other nerds. He farted, and the faces of all the men he had bedded became hazy. Thatâs right, he still hadnât lost his virginity. Frank knew this wasnât right. He still had the memories of his real life in the back of his mind. He knew if he could just make it back to his designer loft in the city, he could rebuild and get his life back on track.Â
PHBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBT!
He farted, and his memories of his cool loft in the city disappeared. He had never lived in the city now. He remembered graduating college but instead of getting a good job and moving to New York, he had ended up renting a room in the basement of Albertâs parentsâ house. He had been so thrilled to get to spend so much time with his best friend, playing Dungeons and Dragons, watching Star Trek, and getting to be with the only person who could tolerate his appearance and flatulence. He saw them eating Doritos and pizza as they painted miniatures, unaware that that diet was the cause of his severe flatulence. Frank KNEW he had spent the past ten years living a different life, but now these memories became more present. He could remember his life as a cool, successful stud, but he knew that this second set of memories were now the real ones.Â
Albert shifted the car into park and Frank panicked.Â
âHere we are, pal. Our ten year high school reunion. Ready to see all our old classmates?â
âAlbert pleashe, jusht turn the car around and letâsh go home!â
âWe can do that later buddy,â Albert said as he walked over to open Frankâs door. âI really think people need to see the man you are today.â Frank meekly exited the car, with a loud fart. This was really who he was now. It was who had been the whole time.Â
He fidgeted nervously with his suspenders as Albert led him to the school gymnasium. He shuffled meekly in his clunky shoes, pushing his thick glasses up his nose. All the effort he had put into changing himself for the betterâgone.Â
âHere we go,â Albert said as he pushed the double doors to the gym open and shoved Frank through. He stumbled over his own feet and entered the gym with a trumpeting fart so loud and long that the DJ stopped playing music as everyone turned their attention to Frank. He blushed, and farted again. Everyone stared in silence for a moment until a voice rang out.Â
âHoly shit, Farting Francis is here!?â
Frank scanned the room as he squinted through his massive glasses and found the source: his old bully, Blake Denvers. Just a few hours ago, Frank had been, well, superior to Blake. Hotter, fitter, cooler, and richer. But now, he was just Farting Francis again.Â
âHey everyone!â Blake called out. âItâs Farting Francis!â The entire gymnasium burst into laughter as Frank cast his gaze downward and started farting again. Blake walked over to him.Â
âP.U. Francis! I see your farts have gotten much worse. I thought I had seen on Instagram that you had toned up and learned how to dress but I guess I was mistaken. Youâre still the same dork you always were.â
Frank wanted to fight back. That wasnât true. He had been cool, hot, sexy even! But who would believe him now? He just had to accept his fate.Â
âItâsh good to shee you too, Blake,â Frank said in a nasal tone, as he clumsily pushed his taped up glasses up his nose.Â
âYou know, Iâve really mellowed out over the past few years but what say we do this one more time, you know, for old timeâs sake!â Blake spun Frank around and reached his hands down Frankâs highwaisted plaid slacks. Frank felt Blakeâs hairy mitts grab the waistband of his tighty whiteys and pull them up in a painful wedgie. Frank yelped in agony but everyone laughed. Everyone except Albert who just watched, smirked, and shook his head. This is who youâve always been, Frank could imagine him saying to him. And at this point, it was true.Â
Blake scanned the room as he easily carried the now scrawny Frank by his waistband. As Frank squinted through his glasses and took the gymnasium in, he realized what Blake was looking for. All throughout the reunion hung enlarged prints of everyoneâs senior photos. He could see other classmates taking pictures to next to theirs, to show off how much theyâd changed. How nice for them. And then he saw his. Closer and closer as Blake marched him towards it, dragging him by his own underwear.Â
With a heave, Blake hooked Frankâs tighty whiteys from the bleachers next to his senior portrait. There he was as he was in high school, with thick glasses, greasy hair, headgear and braces, and dorky clothes. And here he was now, with thicker glasses, greasier hair, headgear and braces, and dorky clothes.Â
âYouâre so fucking funny, Farting Francis,â Blake laughed. âDonât ever change.â
But he had changed. He had changed so much and worked so hard for that change. But Albert had undone it all in a night. Frank felt the weight of his thick glasses, the tightness of his plaid pants and tie, the heft of his pocket protector. As he dangled there, he let out another huge fart as the stench washed over him. That old familiar scent that heâd be stuck with his whole life; the scent that earned him his nickname; the debilitating extreme flatulence that would keep him as a pathetic virgin nerd who stunk forever. He wasnât Frank anymore; maybe he never had been. He was just Farting Francis, and that was never going to change. It's never too late to return to your nerdy ways. Become a nerd at the Nerdification Discord.















