Senator Edward Miller awoke bright and early in the Washington D. C. Hilton, shooing the escort who had spent the night out of bed. She slipped on her heels and snuck out through the hotel’s back exit. As soon as he was certain no roving reporters had seen her, Edward began his morning routine. He worked quickly because he didn’t want to be late for the rally he was hosting at 10:00.
He did his normal set of 50 push-ups, which began to feel easier than they usually were. He knocked out 20 more, feeling his powerful arms flex and grow beneath him. Then he grabbed his razor and shaving cream and walked into the bathroom. Shit. The hair on his chest had grown back sooner than he’d hoped. He’d have to shave that too, or else his wife would… Edward was hit with a dizzy spell and leaned against the mirror, which reflected his short blonde hair returning to his light brown coif as his silk pajamas faded back into a white V-neck and gym shorts. Ethan Miller was back in control.
He groaned, thinking about those awful things he had said. And those disgusting acts he had performed with that woman. He wanted to throw up. Hell, he wanted a lot of things. Two days ago, he thought being a closeted celebrity was the worst life could get. Now he was a were-bigot stranded in Washington. He had no money, and he’d get mobbed by female fans if he stepped out onto the street. Not that he would have minded that a couple of hours ago… He shuddered.
There was really only one thing he could do, and that was to find Tyler. He seemed to know what was going on. Ethan turned on his phone and saw his newest contact – “Taalim Abboud (Sunshine City Cabs) – slowly fade back to “Tyler.” He pressed Call. Tyler answered on the fifth ring.
“Shit, man, I didn’t mean to – are you alright?”
“I think so. I’m in Washington D.C.”
“I’m so sorry about all this. I promise I’ll explain what I can-“
“I will take you up on that, but for now I need your help. I’m stuck in the D.C. Hilton. Can you come get me?”
“I’m not sure. I’m still in LA. I just had to fight my way past like five kids in Taalim’s house.”
“Please, help me figure something out. You’re the only one I can trust with this. I’ll pay you back when we get home, I promise.”
“Don’t bother with that. Just let me think…”
“Ty?”
“Yeah?”
“I’m sorry I was such a dick to you. I didn’t understand what was happening. I still don’t. But now I know we’re in this together.”
“Thank you, Ethan. But you don’t need to apologize. I wasn’t in my right mind either. But it’s a good thing we’re on the same page now, because I have an idea and I don’t want it to get weird.”
“I’ll do anything if it gets me out of here.”
“OK, well… Look, when we transform, it has something to do with our environments. What we’re wearing, what we’re doing. I have a friend named Nick who was babbling about this kind of stuff on the phone. I thought he was crazy. I don’t anymore. The second step seems to be… well, arousal.
Back in the cab- When it was a cab, that is… Well, you dropped a pair of wings from your suitcase. You must have kids or – you know what, nevermind. I think if I put them on and you… you know. I think I’ll be able to find a way to fly to you. I probably won’t be me when I get there, but I’ll get there.”
”You want me to talk you up?”
----
“As long as you’re comfortable with it. I think it’s the only way. I can’t afford a plane ticket and driving would take days,” said Tyler, who was already in the car toward LAX, talking on speakerphone.
“OK, fine.” Said Ethan after a long pause.”
“Gimme a sec to pull over.”
Tyler pulled to the shoulder and pinned the wings to his shirt. “OK, go.”
“Um… I’m taking off my shirt… I’m- I’m rubbing my chest. Flicking my nipples. I’m rubbing down my abs, unzipping my jeans and pulling out-“
“Who the fuck is this? How did you get this number, you fag? If you ever call again, I’ll kick your fairy ass into next Tuesday, you understand? I had to pull over to answer this call, so now I’m late for a flight to pick up a very important movie star. If I’m fired because of this, your ass is on the line!”
Tyler hung up and threw his cell phone onto the passenger seat. He tore away from the curb, pressing the pedal to the metal as he raced for the airport. As the scenery whizzed by, he began to relax. Being in motion always calmed him down, whether it was football with his boys or driving on the highway, but nothing beat the rush of powering through the atmosphere in the private jet he piloted.
His scalp began to itch and he ran his fingers through his hair. As his hand passed, the blonde hairs followed, sprouting an inch as if tugged from their follicles, laying down flat in a slick-back style. The shaved sides grew back as well, tucking behind his ears to complete the look. His ‘do glinted in the sun, darkening to a coal black. His skull suddenly grew heavy as a blue pilot’ hat appeared on his head. He smiled and rubbed his crotch, anticipating being in the air once more. His package swelled by two inches, bulging from the front of his jeans as they rippled and became pleated blue dress pants.
The fat in Tyler’s face melted away as his brown eyes faded to ice blue. His upper lip twitched as a shadow appeared over it, sprouting into a trimmed black mustache. The fat also drained away from his torso, which beefed up with muscle. His ass and legs grew firm too, but the fat remained. That’s what you get for sitting down all day, no matter how cool your job is.
Tyler finally arrived at the airport, flashed his pilot’s badge and raced to the runway. Just in time he reached his private jet, strapped in, and set off for D.C., ready to pick up his client, Ethan Miller.