[ WP ] Describe a universe where a personal stat is displayed above everyone 's head . One can see everyone else 's stat except their own . Talking about the stat is strongly taboo . Reveal what the stat represents at the end .

Usually he knew his number what it was by simply glancing at his watch, but today was different. It was probably in the quadruple digits by now, maybe even past 2000. It was embarrassing to go out in public with such a high number, but they didn ’ t pay him to sit at home and wallow in his discomfort. As he stepped on the bus he looked around and saw a smattering of numbers, the bus driver smiled at him under a green **75**, the old woman in the handicapped seat had a reddish **15** above her white hair. An attractive woman in a pencil skirt and blouse mounted the bus slightly after him and blushed slightly as she caught him glancing at the deep red **3** hovering above her perfectly coiffed blond curls. 
 He watched as the baby in the stroller sleeping peacefully had a green **108** flip silently to a green **1** while her mother had a light red **620** plastered over mousy brown hair pulled back in a ponytail. The mother glanced down at the baby and sighed tiredly. 
 
 
 Out of sheer professionalism, numbers were largely ignored in the office. No one needed a distraction amid all the stress, but he could tell his supervisor was judging him by the slightly grimaced look she gave him when she glanced at his number. It was probably over 2000 by now! She smiled fakely at him from under her green **220** and gave him his assignments for the day. 
 
 
 On his way back to his desk, he stopped by the kitchen and grabbed a bowl of cereal and poured in some milk. He always ate breakfast at his desk. 
 
 He could tell his coworkers were avoiding him, probably because of the huge number over his head. They all traipsed past him, with numbers varying from the single digits all the way up to triple digits. Quads, those with four digits, were not really something to worry about, until they started getting up into the 3000 and over range. Still, you undoutedly felt uncomfortable once your number was in the thousands. If your number got too high, white coated authorities may detain you. No one really knew where they took the high quads, but they were often back less than a week later, usually with green numbers within the normal range. 
 
 
 “ Morning Sean ” muttered Frank as he hurried past with a dark red **342** trailing slightly behind his bald head. Before Sean could respond, Frank was lost in the shuffle of desks and people. Sean turned back to the fiber-bomb cereal that had become mushy in the cold milk during the walk from the kitchen to his desk. 
 
 
 
 As he filed his reports all morning, he wasn ’ t sure if it was what he knew was an absurdly high number over his head that just kept getting higher, or the bowl of the fiber bombs, but his stomach simply would not stop churning. It felt like someone had released a family of hamsters into his large intestine, and now they were doing their best ( the hamsters ) to reenact civil war battles, cannons and all. Twice he had to walk outside when the flatulence grew either too sonorous or too pungent. 
 
 
 Lunch, due to his gastrointestinal bellum, was a light affair, a salad from downstairs with a glass of water. His supervisor stopped by his desk while he was eating with a sheaf of papers, undoubtedly more reports for him, but upon catching sight of his number, definitely well over 3000 by now, she instead asked him if he needed to take the afternoon off. 
 
 
 “ Nah, I ’ m fine. ” He lied. The hamsters had moved on from civil war reenactment to WWI. Long moments of utter stillness followed by minutes of extreme distress as the hamsters rushed from one trench to another. He was sure that if he lifted his shirt and watched, he would see the horror of what was happening underneath reflected in violent movements under his hairy stomach. 
 
 
 “ Suit yourself… ” She started to say something, but stopped and walked off and handing the reports to Frank, who now had a green **165** practically shining above his head. 
 
 
 Less than an hour after lunch Sean felt the gastrointestinal pressure build. He was in the middle of a conference call when it hit. He stood up suddenly, forgetting his headset and pulled his phone off the desk. It fell with a clatter, but he didn ’ t care. He almost didn ’ t make it, Frank, with his smug **215** decided he needed to catch up and apologize for his hurried greeting earlier that day. Sean disposed of Frank with a wave and hurried by, hoping his light khakis would not turn into dark brown khakis on the way to the restroom. He burst into the rest room, startling the intern washing his hands at the sink ( a green **3** over his head ). Before Sean was even in the stall, he was unbuckling his belt and as he squeezed himself into the small stall, he threw down his pants, pirouetted ungracefully, sat down with a thud, and relaxed as a feeling of release rushed through him. The hamsters made a quick retreat. Fifteen minutes later he walked out of the restroom, relieved, with a bright green number **2** over his head. 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 

