He was dead. He knew that. He had realized that long ago. Or had he?

There was no sense of time where he was. He knew he was standing but it felt like he was falling. He knew it was day, but it was so dark. How did he know it was day? He would have to think about that.

Maybe, he could use his eyes to see but he couldn't remember what that meant. It dawned suddenly and he opened his eyes.

There was a sudden rush of senses. Loud noise lots of light on the horizon. He looked up but his movement was restricted, not by the rushing air but by a bubble helmet with a thick glass face cover.

Memories started coming back to him. Simple things at first, like the concept of breathing, falling and his own effing name. At once it all flooded back to him and Dingleberry realized what was what.

He had shit himself and it was the smell that had knocked him out.

Two months ago Dingleberry had decided to do the most daring thing anyone could ever do. Jump off a hot air balloon in the upper reaches of stratosphere. Something that had been done before but he was going to break the record and just because he could. He would show that bitch of an ex of his what he was really made of. In his entire 26 years he hadn't even ridden a bicycle but he was going to show the world that he wasn't a coward. He was just a careful guy. That's why he had 5 specially made parachutes all over his torso. He wasn't a coward just a little careful. He also knew that he would shit his way down. So he had a special detachable compartment built to hold his excrement. But apparently the quantity his body had decided to release in this situation far exceeded his calculations.

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He had spent 6 rigorous weeks potty training himself by continuously measuring his intake and output.

But he had apparently miscalculated. Maybe it was because of the change in texture and quality of the fecal matter that pushed the special pipe fitted into his rectal canal.

The material running down his back now was proof enough of that. The problem was that the stench was so overpowering it was becoming difficult for Dingleberry to maintain consciousness.

But the real problem would be when he reached the bottom. His family was waiting for him along with his close friends, acquaintances, colleagues and of course, the media to witness his record breaking jump.

He had to think of something quick and decisive. He could be that, it wasn't that difficult but he was beginning to feel woozy from the stench.

He could see the earth coming closer when it struck him. He could do a nudist. That was the new way of doing things. He had seen people do it online. As soon as the air became breathable he would get naked. This was the most brilliant and daring idea he had ever had, he had done it. He was changing his personality slowly and surely, just as his dream guru had said.

The light on his screen was still red he could see that but there was some kind of issue with the color. It was not red completely and clearly. Dingleberry would have to have words with the makers of the suit. They couldn't even fix a proper red light with all the money they had leeched from Dingleberry.

The ground had come a lot closer, he could make out the colors of all the people standing below. He checked the light but couldn't see it, there were specks on his face cover too.

He prayed and pulled the parachute open. As soon it jerked open, he could feel lighter. He glanced down to see if he was on target and noticed his pants falling down towards the bulls eye.

Brown material flying hither and thither.