Jenny went to the kitchen and dropped her bowl off on the counter. She then realized there was no kitchen sink, nor any cabinets-just piles of dirty dishes on the counters. Some of the dishes looked like they had different meals placed upon each other, like nobody every bothered to clean them in between. There was a water dispenser in the fridge, however. She took a (dirty) glass and got herself a glass of water-and wasn't as surprised as she should have when it came out black and disgusting. Jenny somehow knew that there was no need to clean water, so water from the sewer was just piped directly back into the water supply without treatment. Apparently, germs were no longer a problem. She drank the dirty water, enjoying what should have been a disgusting taste.
A glance in the bathroom continued the tour. No sink or shower, just a filthy, disgusting toilet, and an equally dirty mirror and counter top, which only held some makeup. Jenny was at least happy that there was a toilet-then she realized there was no toilet paper. She looked at her panties, and was not nearly grossed out enough at the huge skidmark inside them.
A second glance at her bedroom confirmed things. In addition to the piles of trash and mysterious stains on the carpet and walls that were ubiquitous throughout the house, there was no closet or dresser-her clothes were just piled in a corner. There also seemed to be less of them-Jenny then realized there wasn't a duplicate of anything. Other than the panties that went with her (very dirty) cheerleader uniform, there was only one other pair. She realizes that, other than when she wore her cheerleader uniform, she wore the same panties every day. In the normal world, she had about twenty different pairs, but they were all about the same style.
Jenny realized she should be disgusted, but she actually started to admire how efficient that was, having only one pair of panties. She also thought about how not showering or wiping her ass saved so much time. He thoughts, however, were interrupted by her mother calling her to school-and a burp.
Stepping outside (kicking an old soup can outside as she did so), she realized everything looked how she should expect it. The lawn was completely overgrown, with piles of trash in it. Every other lawn in the neighborhood was similiarly overgrown and trash-filled. She saw an old sofa her family threw out three years ago still on the curb, next to a pile of old tires.
As she climbed on to the pile of soda cans in the front seat of her mom's car, she wondered what other wonderful disgusting sights (and smells) she would see at school.