Low Life Sneak Peek: Piles

The Byproduct


A pile with fists made of grime
Declared his abhorrence of rhyme
There’s something quite wrong
Said he about song
So I wet myself and ran extremely far away

 pile03The Low Down

Festering heaps of biological trash, piles are the result of contanimation gone awry (one of many possible results, actually). The esoteric zazz of contanimation, the mystical art that allows contanimators to summon, commune with, and influence the primordial spirits of filth and decay, sometimes leaves things behind; effluent residue tinged with Fundamental prerogative and a spark of intellect. In such a manner are piles born. Well, not actually born. Originated, I guess.

Piles come in two basic flavors. Some of them, known as bound piles, are Fundamentally in the thrall of whatever contanimator accidentally created them. These peeps are usually servants, often employed as bodyguards, scrappers, or drudges of one sort or another.  The other ones, sovereign piles, are on their own. They do what they want and are free to manage their own affairs. The mechanism of these relationships is undiscovered. Why one pile arises bound to a master while another is as free as your first spoonful of chili at the Chopping Block is a question of great interest to contanimators, as are the implicit circumstances needed to create a pile in the first place. Such a process never happens on purpose, despite centuries of research. Piles are accidents. Happy accidents, but accidents nonetheless.

A pile is, essentially, a living mound of dense, feculent crud. Its rotund, bulky mass is covered in thick, malleable goo, the stink of which ranges from horrendously atrocious to atrociously horrendous. This thick, putty-like ordure is firm yet pliable, allowing the pile to shape it into various spikes, bumps, “hairdos”, and such. Since the actual living body of a pile resides several yorts beneath this integumentary gunk, it can withstand continued abuse. Piles even use their gunk to store various bits of gear. Who needs pockets when a peep can just stick stuff in himself? Not piles, that’s who. They can even rip globs of their goo from their bodies and fling them at their enemies, a gross yet effective technique which often leaves the foe temporarily blinded or otherwise hindered.


Piles, by nature, tend to be either extremely experimental in their approach to things or else steadfastly efficient. The former, when circumstances call for hostility, seldom use the same tactic twice in a row. They carry an assortment of weapons and instruments, giving each a chance to do its thang before moving on to the next.  The latter just want to get things done so they can move on to the next thing. An impatient smack and it’s usually over.

As a rule, piles aren’t particularly bellicose nor especially pacifistic. They deal with each circumstance as it arrives. Some situations call for violence and, when they do, a pile will most likely answer that call. But he might not. It’s up to him. Unless he’s a bound pile, in which case it’s up to his boss.

 Getting Along With Others

Despite their grotesque appearance, piles cherish life. They tend to respect other beings, especially when offered similar respect in turn. Most piles are, at least initially, friendly and outgoing. Get on one’s bad side and you’ll probably regret it. Apologize and he’ll probably forgive you. They have little use for grudges and acrimony.
Piles aren’t stupid, but they don’t waste time with complicated decision making. Impulsive and unpredictable, they prefer to act rather than ponder. Some peeps find a pile’s spontaneous disposition a bit unsettling, others dig their passion. Either way, it’s certainly better to have a pile as a friend than an enemy.

pile01Pile Names

Bound piles are often given a name by their creator, which is usually something either lame and belittling (Blorb the Subservient, Gross Greelo, Ploop Socklicker, Jeff…) or grandiose and extra macho (Huge Hoopalooph, Mudmuscle the Flatulent, Borborygmal Bellyblight, Chunk Chiselchompers…). Sovereign piles usually name themselves, in which case just about anything is possible (Finsto the Quill, Byulunculus the Vigilant, Feco the Defecator, Brillo the Fool-Pitier). They don’t always follow the “Something the Something” formula, but it is awfully popular.



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