It took Rick over an hour to get home on foot. His legs ached. How had he gotten so out of shape. He still hadn't quite realized he wasn't himself anymore.
He grinned as he recognized his car parked in his driveway. He ran up and checked it out. It looked fine. The engine was still warm. Rick still wasn't sure if he'd driven home and then wandered off in shock from his near accident, or if someone had taken his car for a joy ride. He didn't really care, his car was okay, and he was home. He walked up to his front door.
He reached into his pocket and pulled out a key on a rabbit's foot keychain. His key had been on a golden football ring. He struggled to put the key into his front door lock, but it didn't fit at all. He went around back, and collected the hidden spare key. He opened the kitchen door, and was surprised how his perspective had changed. He couldn't have shrunk could he? He grabbed a pencil off the kitchen desk. Then he kicked his canvas tennis shoes off--canvas? He only owned leather sneakers. He shook his head, and standing against the door frame of the basement, he drew a line across the top of his head. He turned and gasped. Black marking pen indicated Rick's height from age 6 to his present age. The pencil mark was midway between 13 and 14 on the door post. He had shrunk.
He stomped upstairs to his room mumbling to himself. He threw open his door, and stared at his handsome adult body jacking off on his bed. He was shocked, angry and turned on at the same time.