You and your naked young friend crawled around in the dusty, cluttered attic looking for the trunk of your old clothes. You hoped it was here at all and that you could find it in all of this junk. Not that the junk itself wasn't interesting. Mark pulled open a battered drawer and found a metal toy that looked like a ray gun from a cartoon. "Size-O-Matic" was printed on the side, and you could both just barely read it with effort. The letters were clear enough . . . you guess you just weren't a great reader at five years old.
"What do you think it is?" he asks.
"Uh . . ." You are putting two and two together, slowly. If the machine in the basement was the Age-O-Matic and regressed you to five years old then the Size-O-Matic must . . .
"Pew pew," Mark whispered, pointing the gun with childish glee. You saw a spark in it as it came to life. Suddenly, a beam shot out! You looked on in shock as ____________ was reduced to eleven inches tall . . . the size of a Barbie doll.