I'm Not A Simp.

"I'm not sure about this," my sister said worriedly.

I gripped her hand, "it'll be fine, our brother has already done the surgery and he's ok." 

She smiled, it was an innocent smile. We held onto each other until we were forced apart for our respective surgeries. The process was strange, to say the least. The doctor operating on me was a 'cameraman' as they called themselves. 

In fact everyone in that building was. When I was being prepped they shot my body up with a strange drug I had never heard of. Whatever it was it took me out like a lamp, I don't remember any of it. Only the feeling.

When I was unconscious it was black and I couldn't move, but I could fly. Maybe it was my essence being transferred to a new body or maybe I'm just an idiot. It was cold yet not uncomfortable, I felt dizzy but not sick.

When I regained consciousness I felt stiff. The Doctor displayed some words on a screen to explain my new body and how it worked. When I left the room I found my brother waiting for me. 

He was doing something with his hands, I think it was sign language? I had no idea what he was doing so I tilted my head. It took him a moment but he realized I had no idea what he was saying or signing in this case. He patted my shoulder and sat me down.

He pulled out a pen and paper and started writing something down, when he finished he showed me. 'You should start to learn some sign language.' 

I did my best to show that I was pissed off and his chest started bouncing up and down lightly, I think that means he was laughing. 'What's it like being this?' I scribbled back.

'You'll find out soon,' he crossed his legs.

I eyed him suspiciously, 'what's with the suit?' 

He had on a blue and rich suit, it sparkled in a few areas and was clearly expensive. 'Oh this, I scrambled some money together to avoid those gray and boring outfits.'

'Why?' I scribbled.

'Because I want to stick out, we can't talk so we get our personality's across by actions and fashion and if you're lucky it'll stick.' He stopped scribbling for a moment, 'we call those titles.' 

I wish I could raise an eyebrow, instead I slumped in my chair. It took a moment but eventually our sister came out. She wore the basic female clothes and that uncomfortable looking skirt. She walked over to us, waving slightly.

Our brother, formally known as cameraman #211 now, got up and stretched. My sister, camerawoman #58 and me cameraman #212 followed him as he walked out the door. He stopped near a dusty and rusty pickup truck.

I physically cringed at the sight of it, he noticed and flicked a pebble at my head. He gestured at us to come closer as he laid something out on the hood of the truck. He got out a pen and paper and started writing something down, 'those are the Skibidi Urinals.'

My sister picked up the document and examined it as my brother kept writing down some more words, 'the urinals have been appearing less and less over time, our goal is to eradicate the remaining urinals.'

'Why have they been appearing less?' My sister scribbled that down on the paper so I could understand it, she actually bothered to learn sign language.

'No idea, we believe it's a lack of purpose and effectiveness.' She nodded at that answer.

'Why are you going on this?' I asked my brother.

My brother was a big shot at some science lab and when this Toilet outbreak started he was one of the first few hundred to become a cameraman. Because of this he got special privileges, so it's odd for him to go on a mission as low risk as this one.