✅ Potty Genius [NaNoWriMo 2022]

Two

¿How can a mobile game make you pee your pants?

I don't know. It was such a surprise the first time, and I still don't really understand how it's possible. But the big clue was in the terms and conditions.

Of course, there was a page of impenetrable legalese I had to agree to before entering challenge mode. Mostly reminding me that this wasn't the mode to use if you're actually trying to potty train your kids, and asking me to agree that they aren't responsible for cleaning or laundry expenses incurred during 'voluntary' use of the app. I mean, it seems a bit over the top, but you know how litigious Florida Man has gotten in the last couple of years. Almost every app has some kind of agreement, just in case somebody tries to sue them over not knowing that it's just a game.

And the most annoying trend, they want to prove that you've actually read the legalese. So the text includes examples of different things people might do that aren't the company's fault, and on the next page there's multiple choice questions asking for the characters' names, or how many children Tommy has, or whatever. You can't just skim over it these days. At the time, that stuff was still becoming mainstream, and it was only like the third app I'd used that asked for something like that. But it was worse than any of them; by the end of the third screen of text, I was already starting to space out and answer the questions on autopilot. I thought that I could probably get through it without any of the information sinking into my brain at all.

It didn't help that there was this tinny, easy-listening stuff coming out of the speakers. Perfect music for spacing out and thinking about nothing at all. And to avoid eye strain, it wasn't just black text on a white background, but a shifting pattern of colours like the screen was slowly diving into a Julia-set fractal. More than once while I was reading, I noticed that my attention was on the swirling colours, trying to spot where the pattern repeated, instead of on the words that I was supposed to be reading. Even when the text was talking about how easy it could be to get distracted while reading the words, and whether that affected the company's liability, I couldn't stop my mind wandering off and having a party that I wasn't invited to.

When I'd finally answered the questions, I'd spaced out so much that I didn't even notice. I was probably just staring at a swirling spiral of lilac and teal for a good ten minutes before I realised that I'd agreed to all the legalese, and there was a 'continue' button asking for my attention at the bottom of the screen.

Then I was back at the main Potty Genius menu; icons on the screen gave me the option to record successful potty use or an accident for my little avatar, track when she should be put in diapers, set alarms to remind her to go to the bathroom, or look at graphs of her success or failure. And I could see that it said 'Adrica' at the top of the screen now, instead of Uncle Stefan's kids. But the big difference was one new icon, "challenge", which looked like a medal on a ribbon. And there was a red number one next to it as well, which I assumed meant that there was some kind of challenge waiting for me. How could I not have checked out what it meant, after taking so long to get here?

¿So what was the challenge?

The first challenge was simple enough. It said it was part of a series titled 'Learning the ropes', indicated with an icon that looked like a noose. I laughed at that for a moment, and then checked out what the challenge said. It had a countdown, giving me almost twenty-four hours to attempt the first challenge, which I thought was a bit generous. There was another prompt there, asking if I wanted to have a penalty mode enabled if I didn't complete a challenge in the specified time. That seemed fair enough; my vague reading of the terms and conditions made me think that was the difference between regular and hard mode, so I ticked the box. It was about then that I realised I couldn't remember anything else the terms had said, but I put that down to boredom, and the realisation that all the rules were so natural that I could follow them automatically, without consciously remembering any of the words.

Challenge '🪢Learning the ropes 1' looked like it would be easy enough, if a little embarrassing for the little baby avatar on the screen. I was already thinking of her as Baby Adrica, and I didn't want to upset her, but I knew that winning a game could often be hard. At least she wasn't being shot a hundred times as I struggled to complete the next level of some action adventure game. I read the challenge again, wondering if there was a catch. But it was pretty clear that this was a tutorial mode, so it probably was just as simple as it said.

==> 𝚃𝚎𝚜𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚙𝚕𝚊𝚢𝚎𝚛 𝚑𝚢𝚙𝚗𝚘𝚜𝚒𝚜 𝚜𝚢𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚖 𝚋𝚢 𝚙𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚜𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚑𝚎 '𝚊𝚌𝚌𝚒𝚍𝚎𝚗𝚝' 𝚋𝚞𝚝𝚝𝚘𝚗

I thought that was a funny way to phrase it, but in that moment somehow I didn't realise what it was saying. I figured there's no time like the present, so I tapped the accident button. Another screen of options appeared. There were two toggles: I could record a genuine accident or activate the player hypnosis system, which I assumed was the part of the game that I was supposed to be learning about. And there were icons with a water droplet or a poop emoji, which I could select one or both of. I picked the droplet, figuring that it was most likely if the challenge hadn't told me which one to try. With those simple choices, and confident that I'd passed the first challenge already, I tapped the 'go' button at the bottom of the tablet's screen.

The screen was back in that swirly pattern of spiraling fractals again, and just glancing at it was enough to make me feel a little dizzy. It wasn't going to ask me more questions every time the little sprite on the screen wet herself, was it? But there wasn't a screen full of fine print this time, just a single instruction filling the screen.

==> 𝚃𝚎𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚙𝚕𝚊𝚢𝚎𝚛 𝚑𝚢𝚙𝚗𝚘𝚜𝚒𝚜 𝚜𝚢𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚖
> 𝚃𝙰𝙿 𝙽𝙴𝚇𝚃 <

There was a button at the bottom of the screen, and I tapped it without even wondering why there needed to be another screen in between the form I'd just filled in and its results. The spiral zoomed in, and I watched for repetitions of the pattern as another instruction appeared in the middle of the screen:

> 𝙲𝙾𝚄𝙽𝚃 𝙳𝙾𝚆𝙽 <

This time, I realised that there were big numbers hiding in the pattern of the fractals; I hadn't even realised they were there until I looked for them.

"Five," I said as that number faded away to be replaced by the next. It felt like I was focusing more intently on the screen, and what it was telling me to do, with each number I counted. Somehow this simple game was really holding my attention. "Four. Three. Two. One."

I tapped 'next' as soon as the last number was gone, and waited eagerly for the next instruction.

> 𝙴𝙼𝙿𝚃𝚈 𝙱𝙻𝙰𝙳𝙳𝙴𝚁 <

I wasn't even that full; I'd gone to the bathroom after dinner, right before I made the connection and realised that I needed to enter my name. I focused and pushed a little with those muscles, not even sure anything would happen, but there was a great sense of relief as a thin stream of pee started to soak into the legs of my sweatpants.

> 𝚁𝙴𝙿𝙾𝚁𝚃 𝚃𝚁𝚄𝚃𝙷 <

There were a couple of icons on the screen, and I knew what it was asking even if the instruction was extremely vague. I tapped the water droplet to indicate that I'd successfully had a peepee accident, and then scanned the rest of the options on the screen. There was an icon representing a pair of lacy panties with a visible pee stain, and then a pair of jeans which I understood to mean casual clothes. I looked down at my lap, and saw the damp patch spreading around me. So I tapped the icons representing wet carpet and wet bedding as well, and submitted the report.