Disclaimer: This story is graciously sponsored by Wilson Sporting Goods. Wilson: Feel it in your guts!

“OK, class, now we all know Wilson makes durable products at competitive prices…” Mr. Wessman was holding a standard size Wilson volleyball for the class to see.

One girl in the fourth row did not dare look up from her desk. She couldn’t stomach the sight of it right now; her bowels spasmed painfully just from hearing the quality (yet affordable) brand name.

“Considering it has a diameter of 22 centimeters, can we use Hooke’s law to determine how many volleyballs we can fit in this long modeling balloon? Number 11, you of all people should pay attention to this lesson.”

The laughter… how can they still find this shit funny after 4 days?

Everyone in school, even the teachers, were in on this cruel inside joke. It was obvious that the deflated red balloon represented her anal cavity, and the volleyball represented, well… a volleyball. Her name was Eliza, not Number 11, but she was the new girl and that’s what it said on the back of the figure-revealing jersey she had to keep wearing until the next game. That jersey was a beacon for ridicule for all knew what it implied. She had worn her long hair in a ponytail as far as she could remember, but since her first game on Monday, she used it to hide as much of her face as possible. Even through the dirty-blonde curtain, she knew all mocking eyes were on her.

Eliza’s athletic frame was just shy of 5 feet but she was a great setter despite being a head shorter than her teammates. There was no greater feeling than watching her perfect pass hover over the net as time slowed down until it vanished in a loud smash. The only upside to her family suddenly moving to this awful town was the school’s undefeated volleyball team. Despite its hardcore reputation, Eliza crushed the tryouts and got a spot on the team’s starting line-up. She thought she cemented her star status after helping them win the season’s first game… but after an uncomfortable amount of congratulatory butt slaps, the coach informed her of 3 minor mistakes she had made during the game and how she would be punished for them.

The once cheery cutie, now with permanent wince etched on her face, looked up in horror to the thin deflated balloon that looked like a wrinkly pea pod next to the relatively giant ball. Looks about right, Eliza’s rectum communicated with uncomfortable contractions like Morse code.

“Now that everyone has calculated it on paper, we can try it and see if our k value holds up in the real world.