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  • Team Building (Ex...tion) Exercise

    Chapter by smatster · 21 Oct 2025
  • The Cheer Squad must overcome an unforeseen but expected obstacle.
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  • The first day in our new home with Elise was, in a word, surreal. The grandeur of the mansion Nagai had provided was overshadowed by the sheer, overwhelming reality of our new existence. We were a family of eight—or one, depending on how you looked at it—and we were blissfully, chaotically in love. But even the most profound cosmic unions have to face mundane earthly realities.

    The first crisis struck around mid-morning.

    It began as a low, shared rumble in our collective gut. A feeling so deeply, personally embarrassing that for a moment, the cheerful hum of the cheerleaders’ consciousnesses in my head went completely silent.

    “Uh oh,” Hannah’s voice finally piped up, a note of dread in her usually exuberant tone.

    It was a feeling we all recognized, amplified by seven. The need for a bathroom break. The big one.

    The problem was immediate and horrifyingly obvious. We all had to go. At the same time. And we shared one body. And one… well, one exit.

    A wave of pure, unadulterated panic flashed through our shared mind. This was a level of intimacy none of us had signed up for.

    “Okay, new rule,” Stacey’s voice cut through the panic, trying to sound commanding but edged with her own anxiety. “We take turns. We… we focus really hard on whose turn it is. Everyone else mentally leaves the room.”

    It was a valiant idea. It failed spectacularly.

    Chloe went first. We sat our colossal form down on the reinforced titanium toilet Nagai had thoughtfully installed. Chloe focused with all her might, her consciousness pushing to the forefront. The rest of us tried to mentally hum, think of baseball, anything. But we were all still there. We felt the strain. We felt the… effort. She released a tiny fart but no real release. Just a shared sense of agonizing performance anxiety and a growing physical discomfort.

    “I can’t!” Chloe wailed mentally, retreating in a wave of frustration and humiliation. “You’re all watching!”

    Hannah tried next, with her typical boldness. “Alright, let’s do this! Power through!” She focused, grunting with effort. We felt the internal pressures shift, a tense, muscular contraction that caused another small fart but went nowhere. It was like trying to start a car with seven different people pressing the gas pedal at once.

    “This is worse than facing the giant cupcake monster!” Hannah groaned, giving up.

    Zoe tried a rhythmic approach, Maya a focused meditation, Brianna a gentle, encouraging effort. Each attempt was a spectacular failure, a symphony of grunts, mental curses, a small trumpet and deepening misery. We were a five-story tall monument to bloated embarrassment.

    Elise, sensing our distress from the other room, knocked gently on the door. “Everything okay in there?” Her voice was full of concern.

    “NO!” seven voices screamed in my head in unison.

    The discomfort was becoming acute. Painful. We were stuck in a hell of our own making.

    It was then that I—Josh—realized the flaw in our plan. We were trying to partition a function that was, by its very nature, a whole-body experience. You couldn’t have a committee vote on a peristaltic wave.

    “Everyone, stop,” I thought, my mental voice cutting through the despair. “You’re trying to take turns driving a car that only has one engine. It doesn’t work like that.”

    A wave of hopelessness greeted me. “So what do we do?” Stacey asked, her voice small.

    “We don’t take turns,” I said, a plan forming. “We sync up. We do it together. All of us.”

    A chorus of mental shrieks of horror answered me.

    “TOGETHER?!”
    “Absolutely not!”
    “Josh, that’s disgusting!”

    “Do you have a better idea?” I asked, the physical pressure making my—our—voice firm. “We’re a team, right? We do everything else together. We fight together, we love together… why is this different? It’s just biology. And right now, our biology is screaming for a team effort.”

    There was a long, tense silence. The truth of our situation was inescapable.

    “He’s… he’s right,” Chloe said, her voice trembling but resolved. “If we’re one body, we have to… be one body. In all ways.”
    “Ugh, fine,” Hannah conceded. “But no mental commentary! Total radio silence!”
    “Agreed,” Maya said. “We will treat it as a shared physiological process. No judgment.”

    One by one, they reluctantly agreed. We all focused. Not on individual effort, but on a unified release. We stopped fighting the feeling and instead, we accepted it. We leaned into it, together.

    It was the strangest, most vulnerable moment of our shared existence. There was no more hiding, no more embarrassment. Just seven souls, deeply connected, focusing on one singular, earthy goal.

    We were all mentally sitting on the toilet. And then, it happened.

    It wasn't a turn-based event. It was a synchronized, massive, and profoundly relieving… event. A shared sigh of release echoed in our mind, followed by an overwhelming wave of pure, unadulterated physical relief. It was, oddly, not gross in the shared mental space. It was just… a solved problem. A collective need, met.

    We sat there for a moment in stunned, relieved silence. Then, a single thought broke through, from Hannah.

    “...Well. That was a thing.”

    And then, the mental dam broke. Not with revulsion, but with a surge of hysterical, bonding laughter. It was nervous, relieved, and utterly unifying.

    “Oh my god!”
    “We just did that!”
    “Teamwork makes the dream work!”
    “I’ve never been so close to anyone in my life!”

    We cleaned up, the action now feeling less like a shameful chore and more like a shared maintenance task for our beloved, shared vessel.

    When we finally emerged from the bathroom, Elise looked at us with worried eyes. “Everything okay? You were in there for a while.”

    Our face—my face— broke into a wide, genuine smile. A smile that held the laughter of seven people who had just faced the final frontier of intimacy and emerged stronger for it.

    “Everything’s perfect,” we said, our voice a harmonious blend of all of ours. “We just had our first real team-building exercise.”
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