Chapter 4: Help

Michael was definitely in a predicament, now.

For a machine that has no digestive system, no urinary tract, how could he be expected to give urine for a urinalysis which would prove that he wasn't consuming drugs?

Michael couldn't help it, aware now of some of his abilities, that he was more productive than his human colleagues.

He did have a plan, though, but the more he thought about it, the more disgusted he became.

He and Arnie both entered his house, and Michael set his keys down on the counter in his kitchen. He leaned back against the sink counter and watched Arnie get settled.

"Wassup, dude!" he asked, plopping himself down at the bar in the kitchen.

"Do you do any drugs?" Michael asked him. "I mean any. Are you also on any prescription medications?"

"No, man! I only act high," he said. "I'm not on any drugs either."

"Good," he told him. Michael could tell he wasn't lying – his face twitched slightly when he's lying and he can't control it.

"Drink this," he told him; handing him a glass of water that he had just poured. "Drink it fast."

Arnie finished the glass in a few seconds and set it back down on the bar. "What was that all about?" he genuinely asked.

"Shut up and drink," Michael said, giving Arnie yet another glass, as he filled the one he just finished back up.

This process ensued for the next 20 or so minutes. As Arnie started to slow down, Michael urged him to go faster.

"Be right back, need to take a piss," he told him after he finished the 35th glass.

"Sit down!" Michael yelled. "You aren't going anywhere!" he told him. Arnie could tell he was serious.

After about the 15th glass from the second round; Arnie got up.

"Dude, I have got to take a piss or I'm going to burst!" he yelled.

Michael handed him an empty gallon milk jug. "Go in here," he told him.

"You're not serious," he asked.

He shoved the jug at him. "Relieve yourself in there."

Arnie knew he didn't have much choice and went into the bathroom, with the jug in hand. Several minutes later, an audible sigh was heard. He opened the door and handed Michael a half-filled jug of light yellow urine.

"Is that all?" he asked him. "You drank 4.375 gallons of water earlier. There should be more."

"Mike, the human body absorbs some water," he said. "I'll have to go again, soon, I'm sure."

Michael capped the jug and put it into the garage.

He and Arnie went into the living room and watched some TV.

Sure enough, 12 minutes later, Arnie said he had to go, again.

He got the jug out of the garage, and handed it to him in the bathroom. Michael stood there, waiting for him to proceed draining his bladder.

"Aren't you going to leave?" he asked me.

"No, this is fascinating."

Arnie took the jug abruptly from him and turned his back. A steady stream of liquid could be heard pouring into the half-filled plastic container. Arnie audibly struggled as the stream stopped. Capping the lid, he handed Michael a now full gallon milk jug filled with his urine.

As Michael left the room to stow the container, and put the glasses in the dish washer, more liquid could be heard streaming into the toilet from the bathroom.

Michael went back into the living room. Several minutes later, Arnie reappeared; his face bestowed with a sign of relief.

"You drank a clear liquid, and it comes out yellow," he told him. "Why is that?"

Visibly uncomfortable, Arnie struggled as he tried to think of the words to say.

"Urine is waste," he told him. "The water hydrate us, but also flush out toxins and other shit out of our bodies. I guess the yellow is the other shit. Would you mind telling me what's going on?"

Michael turned off the TV and reclined back in his chair.

"Scott wants me to take a drug test tomorrow," he told him.

"Ah! Yuri-nalisis," he replied.

"You got it."

"So this means you're," he said, pausing. "You're gonna drink it?" he continued slowly. "YUCK!"

"My systems have no waste to process. Any liquid I intake gets expunged without processing." I explained.

"This explains why your piss smells of stale coffee sometimes when we're in the bathroom together," he recalled.

"I didn't think it was common for men to go around smelling the piss of their bathroom patrons," he said jeeringly.

"It's not!" Arnie said, defending himself. "It's just that yours is strong sometimes. This explains it."

Arnie stayed for a few more minutes and then left to go home. Shortly afterwards, Julie's car pulled up in the driveway.

"Mike?" she said concerned, as she entered the kitchen.

"In here hon."

"Is anything wrong," she asked. "You're home awful early."

"Nope, finished up early at work. How was your day?"

"Same old bullshit," she said, fixing herself a glass of water. "Fine," she said, getting some ice out of the freezer.

"Could you fix me a glass as well," Michael asked her; still in the kitchen.

Julie walked into the living room to join him, two glasses of water in hand. She handed one to him, as she took the other and sat down on the couch.

Michael poured the entire glass into his mouth and ingested it.

Shortly after setting the glass back down, green text appeared, seemingly in mid air. The text read:

FLUID RESERVOIR: 18% FULL

"That was weird," he said aloud.

"What?"

"My fluid reservoir is 18% full,"

"How do you know that," she asked.

"Green text flashed in mid air and told me."

"Wild," she said. "Here, have the rest of mine," she suggested; handing him her glass.

Again, he poured the remaining contents of her glass into his mouth and down his throat without swallowing.

A second or two later, the same text appeared in thin air:

FLUID RESERVOIR: 34% FULL

"34%" he told her as he read the text.

"Cool!" she said energetically; running into the kitchen with his empty glass, filling it back up.

Michael thought this was kind of fun, too. This was something new that was happening to him.

Eagerly he drank the water down. Julie was already back in the kitchen filling up her glass again. He got up to be in the kitchen with her; after all, it made no sense for her to keep running back and forth.

"54%" he read the status message aloud.

She began to hand him another glass when he motioned for her to stop.

Michael reached over to the sink to grab the spray hose; turned on the faucet, and put the hose in his mouth.

Shortly thereafter, red text appeared in front of him:

FLUID RESERVOIR: 95% FULL

"This is different," he told her. "The text is red, now; and it says 95%."

"What happens when you reach 100?" she genuinely asked.

"I'm not sure."

She handed Michael the still full glass of water she was holding, and he attempted to pour it down his throat. I say attempted, because he only got about 33% of it down; the rest spilled out of his mouth.

Michael was laughing, and tried to talk; as still more liquid was spilling out of his mouth, but he could only mouth the words; nothing was heard.

Just then, flashing red text appeared in front of him:

FLUID RESERVOIR: FULL - EXPUNGE NOW

He walked to the bathroom, and motioned for Julie to follow. Michael unzipped his pants, and aimed his cock into the bowl. Strangely, he didn't have any urge to go to the bathroom. A small pump started inside his torso, and a strong, steady stream of water flowed out of him.

A few seconds later, he found he was able to talk, and started to explain to her what just happened, while he was still pouring more and more fluid into the toilet.

"Too wild," she said. Leaving the bathroom to let him finish.

A moment later he finished, and flushed the toilet. Walking back into the living room, he found Julie had relocated herself to his chair; so he laid down on the couch.

"2.4 liters," he told her. "2.4 liters is how much I expunged."

"Awesome! You could put out a small fire with that," she said, giggling.

"Actually, I think it was 2 liters; and the other .4 came from the overflow."

"Makes sense," she said, flipping the TV to the news.

Michael picked up the copy of Al Gore's book about the environment and started flipping through the pages. Julie watched the news for a little more, then got up to go to the kitchen to fix some dinner.

"Would you like me to fix you anything," she asked.

"No thanks," he responded. After all, he didn't really need food – and it would just be a waste of money.