"What are you going to do?," you ask Walker, watching him carefully. If you can find a way to get the ring from him before midnight that would probably be best -- you have a feeling he'll be looking to get a little younger, and you've basically got "easy target" written across your forehead. Then again, your lie earlier about getting something unwanted from whoever you swap with would probably stop him from switching with you unless he was desperate. He wouldn't want to end up with a stubby 3-incher, you think glumly.
Your cousin wrinkles his brow (well, wrinkles it MORE, anyways) and thinks. "You said you got this from some kind of magic shop, right?" Walker says. You figured your cousin might ask about this. He's sort of dumb, but he can smarten up quick when he stands to gain something. "Yeah, it was downtown. A little out of the way of the main street." He nods. "Well, you had better go down there and get something to fix this, unless you want me to beat the shit out of you, that is. I may be some dusty-ass geezer but I'm still more jacked than you." He flexes his bicep, age spotted skin tightening around some visible muscle. Your cousin really doesn't know that old "catch more flies with honey than vinegar" saying, does he? At least this could work to your benefit. You're pretty sure Walker is too vain to leave the house like this, so you'll have a chance to visit the magic shop on your own.
"Well, yeah, I can go over there, Walker. You're still my cousin so I'll try to help you out. But you might want to transfer me some cash." Your cousin rises up quickly. Then, wincing, the 53 year old grabs at his knee and collapses into your office chair. "Fuck you, [name]," Walker spits, malice in his dull brown eyes. "You're not going to blackmail me. If I have to be an old dude, I'm going to enjoy every one of my new dollars." Christ, you really have to spell it out for him, huh? "It's a STORE, Walker. I don't have that much money, and they had a lot of stuff there. I mean, this ring came out of the discount bin, and that's probably why its so annoying to use. They have expensive stuff that could probably do even crazier things, but I need some spending money for that," you explain. Your aged cousin nods. He rubs his hand across his silver-blonde hair, looking thoughtful.
"Okay, okay. I'm not stupid," he says. Debatable. Walker sighs and looks at you hard. "How much do you think you'll need?" You shrug. "A million?" Your cousin practically foams at the mouth, his red cheeks getting redder. You decide to quiet his anger before he really gets going. "There were things in the shop that cost that much. Or more." That's another lie, but whatever, it's not like they give out receipts. "Fine," Walker says with gritted teeth. "But whatever you get better be good. I want bitches, power, fame, or money, not whatever gay shit you're into, understand?" He taps at his phone with a yellowed fingernail and you get a notification that you have '1 PENDING BANK TRANSFER FOR: $1,000,000.00'. Nice.
---
It's not long before you find your way to the street. You hope magic shops don't close early, although your gut says that they probably never close. With some difficulty, you find the shop, wedged between two business you recognize. Amber light is shining from behind the dirty windowpanes. You're sure that this wasn't here before this morning, but it IS real magic after all. You shrug and walk inside.
When you do, you see all the same oddities as this morning - bottles and potions, statuettes, bags of iridescent stones, brightly colored plastic in otherworldly shapes, strange mechanical devices, and the same discount bin you plucked your ring from. "Be with you a moment!," a voice calls from somewhere. The dusty wooden desktop at the front of the shop is unmanned.