text: Brody drew a sharp breath, held it, and slowly exhaled. Remember, he thought, act like you belong. Act like you’re supposed to be here. His mission, while simple in the details, was risky, and required the utmost discretion. He had waited until nightfall, surmising that he might successfully avoid prying eyes under the cloak of darkness. But now? No such luck. Brody stood before the great glass vestibule of the very institution he was sent to infiltrate, exposed by a glowing sea of florescent bulbs and security cameras. Two agents stood at a counter to his left, each armed with some sort of scanning device. A queue of people waited to have their personal effects examined before swiping a card and being cleared to vacate the facility. Brody tugged at the visor of his baseball cap, pulling it as far down as he could. He had already popped the collar of his jacket to conceal most of his face. It would be impossible for him to not leave behind video evidence of his actions tonight. He could only hope his effort to mask himself would be ultimately successful. While the cameras were of great concern to him, he was faced with a more immediate threat. Guards. Brody knew this particular facility was typically patrolled by a single unarmed guard, but a witness is a witness. Slipping around a corner, Brody nearly shit himself when he just about face planted into the chest of Sizemore, a hulking man, nearly seven feet tall, with a booming voice that carried for miles. Sizemore gave Brody the once over, and then the once more over. The twice over. Brody froze for a fraction of a second. Instinct told him to flee, but Brody repeated his mantra once again. Act like you belong. Act like you’re supposed to be here. “Evening,” Brody muttered as he side-stepped the imposing figure and awkwardly backed away. Sizemore’s eyes narrowed, as he shot Brody a quizzical look, before relenting with a nod. Relieved, Brody spirited away. He could do this. Two minutes, in and out. Brody stuck to the perimeter, darting from one obstruction to the next like a rat scrounging for scraps. He deftly spun and weaved his way through the glowing maze undetected. He was a true champion of stealth. Within seconds, he reached his destination. And then his heart sank. His instructions were simple. Infiltrate the facility, take the package, and get the hell out of there. The package. Yeah, this was going to be a problem. “Just remember: 'Always Green',” Crystal had told him when asked to be specific on which package he should be retrieving. Somewhat specific enough, maybe. But what Brody saw before him was a daunting wall of mysterious packages, numbering in the hundreds. Maybe even thousands. Although they were all unique in their own way, Brody was overwhelmed by all the shapes and sizes. How would he ever find the package he was sent for in this mess? He had but one choice. Although it may take all night, he’d have to inspect each package until he discovered the right one. And so he did. One by one, Brody eliminated package after package, until nearly forty-five minutes had passed, and he had narrowed his uncountable choices down to two. He contemplated taking both, but assessed the risk was far too great. He’d never make it out of the building with two. Discreetly escaping with one was daunting enough. He’d have to take a chance and leave it to fate. He took the package he was at least 62% sure was the correct choice. Brody tucked the package under his arm, and hightailed it out of there. Forty-five damn minutes. He didn’t sign up for this kind of exposure. But at least now he was almost home free. He had but one more test to pass. Brody made his way back towards the great glass vestibule, and was dismayed to see three people ahead of him in the queue. Between them, the two counter agents, Sizemore, and six others meticulously inspecting various facets of the facility, Brody stood in plain sight of a dozen people. Too much exposure. Not good, Brody thought. Not good at all. Fueled by anxiety, Brody’s foot tapped furiously. The counter agents cleared one person, and then another, moving Brody to the front. Almost there. His mind is racing. Each passing second feels like an eternity. “Come the fuck on,” Brody mutters through clenched teeth. “I need to get the hell outta here.” And then it happened. Brody went ice cold in the massive, dark shadow of Sizemore, as a meaty hand grabbed him by the shoulder, and in a blur of events, spun Brody around and snatched the package from under his arm. “Oh-ho! What’s this?” Sizemore demanded, inspecting the package. “What do we have here? Always Ultra Thin Super Long Pads with wings? Ha ha! What’re you buying pads!? Pads for your vagina!? Ha ha ha!” Brody tried to respond, but could find no words. Several shoppers turned to face him, as grins slowly formed across their collective faces. “HEY, EVERYBODY!” Sizemore boomed as he snatched away Brody’s cap, “THIS GUY IS BUYING PADS! HE HAS A VAGINA! EVERYONE LOOK AT THE MAN WITH A VAGINA!” Some shoppers exploded into thunderous hysterics, while others assailed Brody with looks of arrant disgust. From behind a display of Pepperidge Farms cookies, a man in a well-worn suit and a fedora adorned with a “PRESS” badge rapidly fired off several snapshots with an antique shutter camera before exclaiming “Wow, what a scoop! This is going on page one!” Like a startled hare, Brody bolted for the door, tears of shame burning his cheeks. Even as Brody fled, staff and shoppers alike hurled insult after insult at him. “Don’t fall and hurt your vagina, Nancy!” “Get the hell outta hear, ya creep!” “We don’t serve your type here, you sick freak!” Others are less vicious, and more heartbroken over the twisted perversion of humanity they’ve just witnessed. “He’s obviously very sick. People like him need to get some help.” “Maybe he was just, you know... curious?” “He really should be locked up somewhere.” \*\*\*\* Across the road, Brody crouched inside a dumpster, barely noticing the foul-stentch that pervaded the air around him. He was shaking, panting, and his stomach was in knots. His eyes were raw from the onslaught of tears. Did anyone recognize him? Maybe the cameras didn’t capture his face in any definitive angle. Maybe if never showed his face in that store again? Maybe if he convinced Crystal to run away with him? He did do all of this for her. Would she go with him? Maybe. Maybe? Maybe he could one day put this all behind him. Peering out from his fetid fortress, Brody watched as his hopes were dashed. Three police cruisers arrived, delivering five officers total. The officers congregated around Sizemore, listened to his tale, had a good laugh, and soon found their way over to Brody’s car. It was official. He was now a criminal. Up there with the same scum found on To Catch a Predator. Brody slunk out of his dumpster, and began the two mile trudge home. \*\*\* It was well after midnight. Brody stood on his own doorstep and contemplated his next move. Breaking down again, he sobbed to himself, “Crystal, I am so sorry. I failed you.” He clenched the doorknob, and his despair was quickly replaced by sheer panic. The door was not only unlocked, but it was left slightly open. Bursting into the house, his worst fears were realized. Everything had been ransacked. “Crystal!? CRYSTAL!!!” he cried out. But his cries were met with silence. Brody fell to the floor in emotional agony. What horrible fate had befallen his dear Crystal? Unable to turn to the police, Brody curled up on the floor and passed out for several hours before finally awakening to the pulse of his cellphone. “Incoming call: Mom.” Mom. Perhaps a ray of hope in all of this. Mom will understand. “Hello? Mom? I... something horrible has happened. Last night I went out to buy some pads for Crystal, and...,” he stammered before being coldly cut off. “You need to stop projecting your own flaws onto that poor, innocent girl, God help her. She’s the real victim in all of this.” “Mom, I was just...,” again, Brody was cut off. “I don’t know what mistakes we made with you, but please, please, just get the help you so desperately need.” Brody didn’t have the chance to respond. She had hung up on him. In just under twelve hours, Brody had lost his status, his reputation, his girlfriend was missing, and now his own mother had disowned him. And he barely had time to mourn the loss when he received one final text message from Crystal. “I don’t date men with vaginas. Sorry, not sorry. Deuces.” \*\*\* Brody stood on the ocean’s shore, and took it all in. Although his past life was literally yesterday, it seemed so far away. Memories of what once was had already been forgotten, replaced only by horrible anguish and shame. Brody was no more. He was just... a monster. The man once known as Brody took a step, and another, and the salt water filled his shoes. The sensation made him shudder. Waves crashed against his legs, soaking his garbage soiled jeans up to his knees. Good. The water is cleansing. Cleansing away the stench and shame of Brody. Another step, then another. Waist deep, and then shoulder deep. Unblinking, he marches on, soulless eyes stung by briny ocean water. Another step, and another, until finally Brody loses his footing. The undertow does what no human being is willing to do. Claim Brody. Brody is never seen or heard from again. No one notices, except for once in 2027, when some random internet troll briefly wonders to himself, "whatever happened to that vagina guy...?" \*\*\* “Babe? Hello? Earth to Brody?” “Huh? Sorry, what?” Brody replies as Crystal’s words snap him back to reality. “I was asking if you’d go to the drug store and get some pads for me. Then you spaced out. I really need some, I’m on my last one.” “Pads? I don’t need people seeing me buying pads. No. No way,” Brody panicked. “What is such a big deal about a guy buying pads?” Crystal demanded. “You have no idea.” “You’re such an asshole,” Crystal spat as she snatched up her keys. “I’ll get them myself.” “Be safe honey. It’s dangerous out there.” “Oh, fuck you.” (Note: This story was inspired by . I'm only mentioning this at the end as to not spoil the "big reveal" in the middle of the story.