Jeff was grumbling as he worked in the garage. At last it was clean, and he called his father to inspect it. Jeff couldn't figure out why it was so dark. He didn't think it had taken all Saturday to clean it.
"Good work, Jeff. As your reward, I'm taking you up to the cabin tomorrow," Bill said.
"B-" Jeff started but his father spoke over him.
"No need to thank me, now get to bed, we're getting up early Saturday morning," Bill said, and he added, "Father knows best."
Jeff felt a weird wave of compliance and acceptance wash over him. Father knows best, echoed in his mind, as he went to his room. He glanced at his desk. The desktop was clear. It was Friday evening, it had been Saturday, but it wasn't anymore. He must've been confused. He thought there was something else he was going to do, but he couldn't remember it. He went to bed.
At 4 am, his father woke him. and he stumbled into the bathroom. Jeff showered, rubbing the hot sudsy water on his hairy chest. Hairy chest? He opened his eyes and looked down. He had been smooth chested, and a size 36 L, but now his chest was at least a 44. He remembered coding in the improvements into his Chronivac Saturday morning to take effect Saturday. He was a real stud now. He was aware, but no one else would be aware of the changes to him. Except it was Saturday now, so the changes had taken place, but where was the Chronivac? And what happened to Saturday? He had started cleaning the garage Saturday but finished the preceding Friday night? His father had come in, and complained about him playing videogames. Had Bill used the Chronivac to alter reality, Jeff wasn't sure, but he suspected he had. When he finally exited the shower, Jeff paused, he left his underwear, jeans, and a flannel shirt hanging on the back of the bathroom door. Now there was a Speedo, and a wife beater shirt. Well, he couldn't go out in the hallway naked, so he put them on. His father was waiting, and hurried him out to the car.
"Whoa, pa, I -um, need to get my shoes, jacket, hat, and-"
"Nah, you're overdressed as it is, Jeff," he said. "Now get in the back, I'll be picking up some others."
Jeff knew father knew best, so he climbed into the back row of the SUV. There didn't look like enough gear on the roof for two people, but it was a short trip. Why did he have this nagging feeling that things weren't right.
His father made three stops, and filled up the SUV with three of his buddies and their sons filling the SUV to capacity. The fathers were all dressed appropriately for the woods. They were wearing boots, jeans, flannel shirts and vests or jackets. The young men were all practically naked wearing only swimsuits and tanktops. Only one had flipflops on, the rest were barefoot. Bill was playing the oldies station, and Pink Floyd blared, "We don't need no thought control."
Father knows best? Thought control? Jeff wondered.
"Great day for hunting," commented Chet. The other fathers snickered.
Chad asked, "I thought we were going to the beach?"
"You boys, be quiet back there. Father knows best," said Bill.
The men joked around and talked the rest of the trip, but their sons remained perfectly silent. Jeff wanted to speak, but he couldn't. The conversation turned to rifles, and for some weird reason, all the young men in the car immediately tented their swimsuits at the mention of rifles. Jeff stared at his wood, and then looked over at Chad and Mike's tents. He opened his mouth, but couldn't speak. Chad could see the confusion in his eyes, and nodded as he looked at the tented swimsuits. He too couldn't speak.
At last they arrived at the cabin.
"Okay, men grab your rifles, and let's make sure they're ready for the hunt. The young bucks can unpack, after we collect our guns," Bill said.
The four men waited while their five sons lined up in a row blushing with their unrelenting hardons for all to see.
Jeff gasped, as Bill opened his Speedo, and reached inside, and pulled out a huge hunting rifle. There was the sound of the handle and cartridge locking into place, and Jeff stared down at his now smooth crotch. Yep, his father had the Chronivac, and his penis was the gun, and magazine was his balls. Magazines. He father was holding one magazine with the gun, while the other was inserted. The others followed suit, Chet took his son Chad's manhood, and held a fancy rifle with two magazines. Mike took two rifles out of his twins Mike and Tim's swimsuits. That left Rob who took Kyle's manhood. The boys just stood there embarrassed and confused, as their father's examined their new guns.
"Boys, unpack the SUV, now," said Bill.
Immediately, Jeff climbed on top, he undid the bungee cords and ropes, and then he started handing down duffel bags, and packs to the others, who ran them into the cabin. At last Jeff got to the last packs, his father's one definitely contained his Chronivac, but as much as he wanted to say something, father knew best. He carried his father's packs into the cabin. He realized that there was no pack for him or the other young men. He realized they wouldn't be needing anything, as long as the Chronivac was there to provide. He wondered what his father had planned.
Inside the cabin, he hung up his father's clothes in the armoire in his bedroom. Chad was similarly hanging up Chet's stuff in his room. Jeff assumed the others were doing the same. He began to set up the Chronivac, maybe he could find out what his father had planned.
As the Chronivac booted up, Chad, Mike, Kyle and Tim wandered in.
"Yo, Jeff, you know what's going on?" asked Mike.
"Yeah, why couldn't we speak in the car? And what the fuck happened to our dicks? I, mean, flesh and blood cannot become carbide steel, can it? It's not normal, but it feels like it should be?" blurted out Chad.
"Chronivac," was Jeff's answer, as the screen booted up. The five youths huddled around the screen, and read that their fathers knew best, and they could not change the Chronivac program. Jeff's jaw dropped, his father had been busy typing, and he hadn't just changed Saturday into Friday to get an extra day, but he had changed the reality to make it a three day weekend.
The five subjects showing on the screen were designated prey.