Bruce’s' first issue was to put his little brother in his place for his last degrading wish, so he had to think hard about how to best equal his current degradation. He guided his quarter into the magician’s mouth just like his little brother had done a few moments earlier. His wish card was deposited into the slot.
"So, from the wish you placed on yourself kiddo, it looks like you are in a hurry to be the big man, what if I made it even more of a challenge for you to appear mature. I wish Andrew was unable to hold his bladder and bowels, and he cannot help but to piss and shit himself all the time."
The young boy could only stand there helplessly as his large member began to soak his bulging crotch and run down his legs. Andrew stared down at himself with an awkward smirk on his face, but before he could fully comprehend his condition, what felt like only flatulence also began to fill the seat of his pants as well. Andrews' awkward smirk quickly turned to face reddened humiliation, as he stood there in his wet and soiled cargo pants.
"Ha! How do you like that? That's what you get for deforming my face like this," the ugly Bruce boasted!
"That's ok," Andrew said as he regained some of his composure and waddled in his sopping wet and fragrant pants back over to the wishing machine, "because I wasn't quite finished yet."
Andrew placed his quarter in the mouth and received his next wish.
"I wish Bruce weighed 350 pounds" he wished.
Almost instantly Bruce’s Abercrombie and Fitch body began to swell. From his original 175 pounds of hard muscle Bruce was gaining fat and fast. 190... 205... 220... His straining college prep clothes now began their transformation into a large men’s muumuu 235... 250... 265... 280... 295... 310... 325... 340... 350. Now Bruce was not only ugly, but also a fat tub of lard. No more swim or track meets for him, the only running he would do is to the refrigerator, if you could call that running. Bruce would be waddling around trying to carry around twice what he did before, except this time; the muscle was gone and replaced by fat.
As his triple chin jiggled like a bowl of jelly, Bruce said "Aww man no way! Now I am all around disgusting."
Again, although now sitting in a mess of his own piss and shit, Andrew was laughing, he had outdone his brother again.
Once Bruce made it back to the machine. He just about threw his quarter into the waiting open mouth, and picked up his card.
"I'm not into any more of this crap, If I leave it up to you, god knows what I'll become, so I wish Andrew was a retarded moron so he wont be able to mess with me any more."
After he had spoken his wish, he looked over to Andrew. Andrew was just sitting spread legged on the floor in his stinking mess with a dull slack expression on his face, drool pouring out the corner of his mouth. He was patting his bulging crotch like a little boy playing with playdoh. " Me pooooh... Me poooh poooh.
"Oh jeeze, maybe I have overdone it a bit." the both ugly and obese Bruce said.
"Duhhhh... it a bit... it a bit..." rambled Andrew
Bruce put another coin in the machine to begin undoing all that had been done during the afternoon. The wish card came out, and Bruce wished for his normal body back, and for Andrew to be resumed to normal. Then another card was deposited and Bruce shoved his chubby hand in the slot to get it.
It read:
"Sorry wishes cannot be reversed here... Please use either the Re-Wishing Machine or the De-Wishing Machine."
"What the hell?" Bruce said as he was beginning to get panicked.
Andrew was now drawing circles in his mess on the floor and babbling incoherently.
There was nothing left for Bruce to do but to search for the machines that could help him and his brother out of the predicament they had gotten themselves into. Bruce had no intention of being forced to spend his life as an obese freak caring for his mentally and physically challenged little brother who happened to be extremely well endowed.
Bruce began to frantically search through the back room for the other machines that could reverse their current fortune. After about five or ten minutes he found the De-Wishing machine. The sign on its face said "Out of Order"
"Shit!" He said, really starting to get nervous. "Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit!" By this time Bruce was sweating profusely and almost out of breath as this search proved to be taxing on his new extra hefty form. Finally he spotted a machine way back in the darkest corner of the room. He finally managed to carry his fat ass back to that machine. It was the Re-Wishing Machine. It was also a slot machine.